As noted in the previous post I often being an entry with a disclaimer. Today you will read a new one.
I am about to wax poetical.
The recommended public response to this announcement is to cover your ears and run screaming from the room.
But I do have an amusing lead-in today. Which may or may not make up for my literary clumsiness.
Today I had an argument with an imaginary stuffy old British guy. He really was quite obnoxious, intruding on my pleasant thoughts and almost making me missmy stop. I had just boarded the bus for home and was crossing the river, watching the rowing teams on the water and looking at pictures of circa 1920s Portlandon the ceiling of the bus. Neat old pics of trains and trolleys and such and I was thinking what good ol’ city we had here in our very own Portland. (I have found I am a much more relaxed person when I don’t have to drive into the city at 7am. What with taking the eleven clock bus lately I veritably enjoy the experience!) And up in my mind pops this snooty old Londoner with, “Ol’?! ‘ow ken ya ca’der city ol’?! ‘y we gots bloomin paving stones whats ol’er den yer bloomin country!”. My apologies to the entire country of Great Britain but thats what he said. Perhaps you ought to curb your wandering imaginary apparitions to stop the spread of King’s English mutilations. This pretentious fellow then began to rail on the Willamette valley weather, the transit system, industry, and arts of our fine city. At last I had to say something so I said this (in my head of course, I wasn’t talking out loud, you think I’m crazy or something?) I said, “My fine fellow, I will make you a deal. You go back to Britain and enjoy what ever it is that they call ‘fine English weather’ and I will stay here and soak up the winter rains. And one day I will send you a picture taken from the east side of the Willamette looking west, on a clear October afternoon, with the pale blue sky, the sun shining through the first wisps of evening fog, the trees just beginning to turn orange and gold, the skyline bordered by evergreens, and the river smoothas glass reflecting it all, and I don’t really know if our city is young or old, full or arts or not, has lousy buses or a subway, but it is beautiful.
I love you!