Saturday, June 4, 2016

20160604 and not counting

An early morning, still dark at oh four fifty eight, a bothersome dream where I was out of town, maybe to officiate a wedding I wasn't sure even in the dream, without a car, needing a ride home to Panama City, yet while the ride who had come for me waited impatiently out front I couldn’t find my phone so decided to leave it, then couldn’t find my shoes as the driver started the engine and began honking. 

And that flashing green light just off my Bay chair’s port armrest never seemed so close. 

What’s going on. The death of Muhammed Ali takes me back more than fifty years, in Japan with other Navy officers watching charmed and delighted as, on black and white TV, Cassius Clay danced around the ring with braggadocian self-confidence, a 22 year old kid with irresistible personality. Both in our twenties, me a bit older, and watching him be all he said he was, The Greatest. Who didn’t get to love, admire and enjoy him is the poorer.


Back in 7H watching clouds turn pink as an osprey hovers high above his breakfast buffet. Changing second by split-second, the clouds are so beautiful I can’t stand it.

Briefly searching this morning for quotes by Muhammed Ali, I found many, including some of his knockout poems. But especially liked this friendship quote by C.S. Lewis: 

"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one.'” I have a friend like that.

DThos+ in +Time+ and loving it 

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