One was 2 copies of the Yes I Can book I mailed to our new preacher. Two weeks ago, I re-read online WISE BLOOD by Flannery O'Connor, a devout Catholic, about a gang of misfits led by a preacher, none of which I can remember. I first read Flannery when I lived and worked in San Francisco. At lunch hour I would read her books in the mild weather in a huge park.
I could not remember for the life of me how to get to the post office or its zip code. 19040.
Stopped into the Giant where Donna was behind the pharm counter.
The Willow Grove PO, she assured me, was nearby, and told me how to get there. York Road.
Mailed both parcels.
Checked my PO Box 181 and found a grant in there.
Wha?
True.
Stopped at the Hatboro Market and Deli and got this. "Under new management" beamed a sign, for, perhaps five yrs now.
Made myself a cold drink of cold water and lime.
Scuse me a moment while I quaff,
The potato salad is only fair, but some paprika, black pepper and celery seed will fix it, plus some fresh peppermint in the front yard, from Robin F at the Giant.
Kaaa! Oops the mint got caught in my throat.
While I was coming home from the post office it was so hot, I thought I might pass out.
I envisioned stepping out of my car and lying in the middle of the road so someone could help me.
Instead, I closed my windows and turned up the AC.
Am reading THE VAGABONDS by Jeff Guinn, a road trip taken by newly good friends, Henry Ford and Thomas Edison.
Many promises were made - and broken - by the new friends, but it didn't matter. They liked and respected one another. Their wives were proper ladies, with their tops buttoned all the way up and got along well.
Why did I publish the photo below? I couldn't find one with high buttons. Please don't think I entertain prurient interests.
Neither man had many friends but it didn't bother them.
I thought of a friend of mine and thought maybe I'll write a short story about him. A man of the cloth. Not YOU, new preacher.
And now I'll go upstairs. plop in bed and read.
Marlon Brando's famous "I coulda been a contenda" speech is such a warhorse by now that a lot of people probably feel they've seen this picture already, even if they haven't. And many of those who have seen it may have forgotten how flat-out thrilling it is. For all its great dramatic and cinematic qualities, and its fiery social criticism, Elia Kazan's On the Waterfront is also one of the most gripping melodramas of political corruption and individual heroism ever made in the United States, a five-star gut-grabber. Shot on location around the docks of Hoboken, New Jersey, in the mid-1950s, it tells the fact-based story of a longshoreman (Brando's Terry Malloy) who is blackballed and savagely beaten for informing against the mobsters who have taken over his union and sold it out to the bosses.
SCOTT and I watched the film thother night.
What a sensitive actor he is.
WHEN I AWOKE, my thumb had a terrible cramp.
Is that all you do is complain?
Oh, my new book was ready for me at the library even though it was about to pour.
Hurry Ruthie Hurry!
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