Thursday, November 06, 2008

A tale of two coffee shops.

The cold I thought I had seems to have mostly disappeared, so there was no excuse for not going to class.
There was, however an excuse for not taking the scooter.
Rain.
Cold.
Two excuses.
TWO!
Hahahahaha!

So I drove the Prius to Queen Anne Starbucks because free parking at SCCC is for scooters only and and parking in the morning is for card carrying members only.
AND Q.A. Mercantile is the only place I know that carries enough Ala Francaise bread.
Bread that I could do without since they sold out to Sara Lee.
And I can't get it fresh out of the oven at University Mall anymore.
But it is bread that Keth likes exclusively.
And gives me a chance to visit my old 'hood.
And where I can get that little thrill visiting the place where
I was assaulted in a SSO related traffic incident.

Which just goes to show how truly uneventful my life has been.

Arriving at SCCC early gave me a chance to trot downtown to my favorite Caffe Ladro and load up on even more carbs & caffeine.

Two coffee shops.
In one day!

Anyway The class is always a lift to my spirits.
I've moved on to the viola concerto.
Using the bones of my setting of James Joyce's Ecce Puer
(Ecce Puer means "That's my boy" in Latin)

I am going to take a copyright chance here, hoping that Stevenadams doesn't catch me and print that poem.

Of the dark past
A child is born
With joy and grief
My heart is torn
Calm in his cradle
The living lies
May love and mercy unclose his eyes
Young life is breathed on the glass
The world that was not.
Comes to pass
A child is sleeping
An old man gone
O father forsaken, forgive thy son


David also assures me that he is still on the program to organize the string quartet
recording session

When I got home Meredith suggested a trip to the Whistlestop in Renton in lieu of cooking anything for dinner.

Which is, was, and will be a good idea.

Garlic prawns and a Guinness.

So, as it stands, I am not only under the influence of the Guinness, but also the Very Nice comments from M.K.T about my music on a previous post.

So if my speesth is shlurred a bit and my breath is a bit off,

Thatsh why.

Last post is the same vahze and tile as last time but the flowers are new.

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15 Comments:

Blogger Glenn Buttkus said...

I guess you RIP'd, cuz your virus clone ersatz nastiness seems to have vacated the premises. Good on you. You may have to stay off wench Fidelio for a time. Chills come in all sizes, and somebody told me that after all, you are an old man; older than me anyhow.

Yeah, French bread is cool, whether out of the oven or out of the plastic on the drainboard, enit?

Who the hell is Steven Adams? That's a prime piece of poetry from Joyce. How does this work?
You write or compose your music being influenced by James Joyce's verbage? You have mentioned it in passing before, but you never really elaborate or illuminate.

If I were to haunt my old hoods in Seattle it would take a full tank of gas, right? Queen Anne Hill (two places), Delridge Valley, White Center, West Seattle, Burien, and before that Lake City, Georgetown, Ballard (two places), and Kent; which is technically not Seattle but you and Lucille used to visit me there before you became a soldier in Alaska, when Sarah Palin was in diapers, or not even breathing yet. Guess she was a fire breathing bitch on wheels behind the scenes. Hard to tell, the GOP is so busy with finger pointing.

Damn,it is good to see Obama as President Elect. Thought Opray was going to pop a lung screaming hurrah! Word is that worldwide, the image of America has elevated several notches just in perception and respect. He is already surrounding himself with ex-Clinton cabinet guys who will roll up their sleeves and get busy on the Economy.

Had a lot of fun with the Harlan Atwater poetry from Sherman. I have a couple more of his poetry books coming from Amazon, so that I can flood the FFTR with more and more of His Word. In the meantime, I have moved out onto the web sniffing for other Indian poets. Hell, there is a gaggle of them. I have started with Simon Ortiz, a Navajo. Guess there are only 3,000 Spokanes in their tribe, and 35,000
Navajos. Very prolific down there in the sun, inheritors of the Anasatzi bloodline.

One viola concerto coming up! You keep on keeping on,dude.

Glenn

5:38 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

James Joyce is a little too highbrow for me, man. Maybe go back to Bob Dylan lyrics.

.............Eddie Emerald

5:39 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Notice that Sherman Alexie keeps mentioning me as one of his favorite poets. Isn't that special?

..............Emily

5:41 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Halloween is over for another year, Emmy dear. So take your old maids smirk, and go scare some children somewhere.

..............Edgar A. Poo

5:42 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Are you on the needle again, Poo?
You still are a disgusting little greaseball, who has always been overrated as a poet. Just because you are clinically and spiritually depressed, do not take your vitreolic spew out on the good people of this universe.

.............Emily

5:44 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Bite me.

..............Edgar Poo

5:44 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Love to. Just give me a ring and I'll pop right over.

.......Trueman Capoatee

5:45 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

What in Christ's world does any of this dribble have to do with Bob Dylan or James Joyce?

.........the General

5:47 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Actually French bread is no more French than French fries. Your ignorance exceeds everything but your IQ and ego.


...............Tooloose Latrek

5:49 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Now we have dwarves and nut jobs sounding off; foreign ones at that.
What ever happened to "Made in the U.S.A."?

...........Jimmy Hofffaa

5:50 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Jimbo: Nice to hear from you at last. Do you like those concrete boots? They seem to fit you just fine. Is is true you survived, and became Tammy Faye Baker?

...........Herburt Hoooverr

5:52 AM  
Blogger Lane Savant said...

The opening line of Finnegans Wake was
riverrun, past Adam and Eve's...

But when his grandson , Stephen was born JJ changed it to

riverrun, past Eve and Adam's
Can be read as;
..........paSTEVE and Adam's
Sounds like;
..........paSTEVENAdams.
I have no idea what it SMELLS like,
although I wouldn't be surprised if it was supposed to have a smell.

I only wrote 4 settings of his poems, there are something like 50 of them.

Steve is notorious for his copyright litigation.

The four songs for piano and oboe on the myspace mp3 site are the four poems with an oboe in place of the voice.
Or, maybe it's an english horn.

9:48 AM  
Blogger Lane Savant said...

Emily, I could have sworn I saw you when I was buying bread.
Although I'm sure you would have spoken if it was you.
This near Halloween, it might have been someone dressed up as you.
Keep in touch, dear.

9:51 AM  
Blogger Jannie Funster said...

garlic prawns, two coffee shops in in one day, buzzed posting... I just can't get enough of your blog.

10:31 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hallo, Lane and Meredith and Keth!
The LL says "Hi" (actually "Hallo" auf Deutsch) to y'all!!
Tschüß,
Anonomann (+ LL)

P.S. Aren't there any free parking spaces anywhere on Capitol
Hill so that the nearest place is Queen Anne?

1:37 AM  

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