Here’s the thing: I rarely respond to comments. It’s a sense of my own smallness that leads me to stay quiet. Why would anyone click on the comments twice (on the chance that there may be a response)? I know very important to me people who never click on comments, on Ocean or elsewhere. Twice would be over the top.
Still, it feels rude. And inaccurate. In my head, I always have a response.
Then along comes a low news day, where the only events had to do with work and where the weather outside continues to be absolutely despicable: something to endure, without pause or feeling.
…and I’m thinking: let’s turn to the comments and forget about any other reference to April 10th.
So, pulling out these from the last few days, here are a few thoughts:
My mother once said 'I love the ocean! It's always going somewhere....'
If my house had been by the sea, I may have never sold it. I write this having never lived by the sea. But looking out at it makes the mess in my head seem tiny. In a good way. (By comparison, looking out at the cosmos makes me feel too tiny.)
Lee I. wrote:
I'll be on Air France in May and again in June/July. Hmmmm. Wonder if we'll cross paths.
There is much dispute as to how far and how frequently I’ll be crossing the ocean this spring. One thing is certain – if you’re on the Chicago – Paris flight on May 15th, do wave: I'll be sitting next to the guy with the feet that stick out into the aisle.
Am I a terrible person if I never turn off my Blackberry simply because I know that nothing bad is going to happen [in flight]?
No you are not. But I have to say that I am greatly influenced by an NPR story of some years back where a reporter investigated the possible hazards of using cellular technology in the air and found none. Of course, that was then and perhaps things have changed. Still, I would bet that of the, say, 300 passengers crammed into 280 seats, barely half turn off all their technologies. And yet, judging from the news, if we’re going to crash, it’ll be because the airlines (and not the passengers) are not attending to their wiring.
Isn't it awesome how they do that decorative stuff with the foam? This one [referencing the coffee mug below] looks like a dancer or dervish.
You too? I always look at patterns and give them human form. I have some scary stuff on my shower wall. Hollow eyes of very tormented persons. (I blame it on the long winter.)
Dande writes [also about the photo of the coffee mug]:
It is as stylish as a 1930s era poster by the brilliant designer A. M. Cassandre
That’s supremely nice. And it conjures up my own associations with Cassandre: a triplet of posters in the Paris Metro many decades ago, advertising that lovely, slightly bitter aperitif: Du… (clatter clatter, next poster:) Dubon… (clatter clatter and finally:) Dubonnet. Oh, could I go for a Dubonnet at the end of this cold, miserably cold and wet day! (With a twist, on ice.)