The account of one young hobo riding the twin rails of pleasure and pain toward his inevitable death and the glories that lay beyond it.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
A Poem by John Frederick Nims
My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,
At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,
Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen,
And have no cunning with any soft thing
Except all ill-at-ease fidgeting people:
The refugee uncertain at the door
You make at home; deftly you steady
The drunk clambering on his undulant floor.
Unpredictable dear, the taxi drivers' terror,
Shrinking from far headlights pale as a dime
Yet leaping before apopleptic streetcars—
Misfit in any space. And never on time.
A wrench in clocks and the solar system. Only
With words and people and love you move at ease;
In traffic of wit expertly maneuver
And keep us, all devotion, at your knees.
Forgetting your coffee spreading on our flannel,
Your lipstick grinning on our coat,
So gaily in love's unbreakable heaven
Our souls on glory of spilt bourbon float.
Be with me, darling, early and late. Smash glasses—
I will study wry music for your sake.
For should your hands drop white and empty
All the toys of the world would break.
-John Frederick Nims (1913-1999)
Saturday, February 02, 2008
This & That
Election Results
I love watching the primary results roll in. I have wasted many an hour sitting there staring at the percentages change as the results roll in night after night. I was first sucked into this back when Iowa held their caucuses in early January. I remember them calling the race with something like 40% of the votes tabulated. I couldn't believe that with only 40% counted that they already knew who was going to win, so I sat there for another 2 or 3 hours convinced that the results would change as more votes came in, but they didn't. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? I am going to go mad trying to figure it out. I have watched every primary since, obssessed with those little numbers at the bottom of the screen.
For those who haven't seen what I'm talking about here is a hypothetical example: let's say the Rhode Island primary is going on and after 1% of the votes come in Romney leads with 37% of the votes (278), McCain is in second with 31% (233), Ron Paul is in third with 22% (165), and Huckabee is in fourth with 10% of the votes (75). Based on what I've witnessed so far you could almost call the race right there as I've rarely seen anyone move more than 4 percentage points. How is such a small sampling of independent thinking people so predicitive of the state as a whole? I sit there night after night willing the numbers to change dramatically and of course they never do. However if say with 55% of the votes counted, Romney has dropped to 35% and McCain has jumped to 32% then we are talking about some serious drama. Good times for the geeks! One note for the networks; you could make it much more riveting by adding a decimal point so that we could track movement within a percentage point easier.
The fact that a representative sampling of the votes is such an accurate predictor of the final results is apparently common knowledge as guys routinely give concession or victory speeches with less than 50% of the results in. I still don't get it; we come from an incalculable number of backgrounds and perspectives, are known for our freedom of thought and expression, surprise all the pollsters and pundits with how we end up voting and yet are so predictable that a small sample of our actual votes is enough to forecast the eventual outcome. How is this possible? Why aren't there wild fluctuations all night long? Somebody help me with this one.
Once
There are so few truly good movies out there that I feel obligated to let everybody know when I come across a great one. My buddy Eddie got me into a movie called Once. It's about a street singer and a girl he meets. Great plot, good dialogue, great background (Ireland), phenomenal music...it's a winner any way you look at it. One warning: they do say the F word a lot (but it's with an Irish accent so it sounds more like a cough). The movie is worth watching just for the scene in the music store. This movie has got soul. It also introduced me to the music of Glen Hansard, Marketa Irglova, and The Frames, all worth looking into.
I have had so many great conversations this week with people about the subject of my last blog. Thanks to all for helping me get some clarity. If you did read my last post, check out John's comment for a great rebuttal to the example I gave.
Here is a quote from a friend's blog that I found helpful, "Perhaps we’ve become too hyper-critical of ourselves to reach out to our own community. Too many times we compare ourselves with those who are receiving national or international acclaim or recognition for their achievements. The celebrity-style spotlight often leaves us feeling inadequate or inefficient in our own efforts to serve God. Instead, we should funnel the inspiration that comes from that attention into our own hearts and what God is doing through us to change the world around us." - Sam Gualtieri in Relevant magazine