Beats me why in recent years we are seeing all these new cars with the huge open mouths. It’s supposed to be “hot” I suppose, an enormous air scoop gulping aspiration on the race track or something, what a crock, what a load of it. Both foreign cars and American cars have succumbed to the trendy.  They’re even doing it in China, above, the new Beijing E-Series. Hopefully the fad will fade soon enough. Not soon enough for me. The first suggestion of such that I remember is the Edsel, the car FoMoCo brought out in 1957 for a couple of reasons.  It was to fill a supposed price gap between Ford and Mercury, and it honored Henry Ford’s only son Edsel, father of Henry Ford II.  The first Edsel cars were offered in two body series and price ranges, the cheaper a Ford body finished as an Edsel, the more expensive a Mercury body finished as an Edsel. The convertible was really nice. From the side. Collector items today, the cars were fine same a...

Where angels fade  Not every but most Tuesdays take me down Lisenby Avenue bordering Greenwood Cemetery and I turn in and drive all the way to the north end to visit, ain’t nobody’s business but my own. In the area between 15th Street & 23rd Street -- 17th and the railroad track actually -- Greenwood is an alone if not lonely, quiet place to stop for a bit of peace. Remember. Think. Fume. Converse: monolog, nobody’s home, I saw that before we left Wilson’s. Wonder. Am I the only consciousness here? Wander. Be fine if there were park benches, but maybe that would attract picnickers leaving trash behind. Yesterday was interesting. Lots of folks like to wander old cemeteries, I first did those Christmas and Mothers Day afternoons in the late forties and early fifties when my family would visit St. John's Cemetery in Pensacola after my grandmother died, and I go still. And years then later and now ago in Pennsylvania, across the Susquehanna from Harrisburg, a long overgrown,...

We hardly knew ye  Some will be thinking about Robin Williams this morning. Thinking, and some will write. Those who loved him knew him in different roles and ways, evidently none the Robin Williams who ended his life yesterday, the Real Robin. We knew someone but it wasn’t Robin, it wasn’t even a person, we only knew an image, a picture, a persona. A series of characters in stories. We don’t know each other, nobody knew him, we watch each other as we make our way but no one knows another, and there are horizons, or maybe rainbows, over which we don’t even know ourselves.  One could say GOK, God only knows, but that’s a faith statement, isn’t it, not an expression of knowledge; or maybe it’s an escape. I’m thinking of what’s out there and what I can keep wondering about, sad that Robin can no longer wonder. I wonder if he wondered what I wonder. Some of the characters he played knew what I knew, still do. A tragedy of it is our loss of the Robin we knew. He made us ...

The gift of life is a terrible thing to waste, even, or maybe especially, at 2:26 a.m. when Nature insists on having its/her way, and you notice bright flashes of lightning over the Gulf of Mexico way out front beyond the Bay and Shell Island. The following thunder is mute and much delayed, and as it seems to be shifting slowly east, I reckon there’s not much chance of a wonderful early summer morning thunderstorm. I would go out on the upstairs front porch to enjoy, and did stick my head out, but the humidity discourages that notion.  For some reason this scenario of wee hours lightning and thunder always brings to mind the night about twenty years ago, when there was a hurricane in the Gulf, and we were having rain from it, little wind as I recall. Tracking westward for Pensacola, it was 45 miles due south of my bedroom according to the National Hurricane Center and Channel 13. As the upstairs wasn’t air conditioned at the time, the windows were open onto the front porch and...

We shall read two Sunday School Bible stories in church this morning. The first is in Genesis, the introduction to Jacob’s favorite son Joseph of the Coat of Many Colors, where Joseph’s brothers sell him into slavery. From the Gospel according to Matthew, the second story is about Jesus walking on water, a miracle story. The gospels cast the miracle stories differently. In the synoptic gospels, Mark, Matthew and Luke, called “synoptic” because they basically see Jesus the same way even if each writer’s agenda is different for his book, the miracles are works of power that Jesus performs in loving compassion when he comes upon a situation of people in sorrow, need, sickness or any other adversity. Today’s story is copied below for anyone who might enjoy reading it again. The work of power may help Matthew’s readers see who Jesus is, here “The Son of God,” but Jesus’ purpose in the story is compassion, to help, just as it was in last week’s story of his Feeding of the Five Thousand....

Which to turn loose, Mind or Fingers? Not the Mind, it goes to the MiddleEast. Fingers? No, not the Fingers, they type drivel, trivia, nonsense,  σκύβαλον,  doggerel, rubbish. What then? Maybe a song. Where did the peaceful world go and what’s the way back? Don’t mock us: we don’t know where you’re going, how can we know the way? New Zealand? Iceland? Y2K? 1947? War? Brick the TV? Cancel PCNH & NYT? The Bomb? Broadway? Go offline? Track 9 3/4? 1953? Pull the plug?  Horror, fear, greed, religious evil crushing Iraq, with its eye on the world and declaring the White House as a target, calls up Bill Weeks and World History with Mohammedan hordes swarming murderously into Europe shrieking, “Islam or the sword.” Charles Martel, where are you. Can we understand Bibi better now?  Any way to Peace but War or Escape? Broadway. The Swamp. Gators v. Vandals? sorry but who’s the cupcake & what idiot put Alabama back on our schedule & could we switch to U...

What happened to that peaceful world and how to get there? New Zealand? Iceland? 1947? Brick the TV? Cancel PCNH and NYT? Broadway? Turn off Wi-Fi? Track 9 3/4? 1953? The horror, greed, power lust, fear and religious hatred crushing Iraq brings to mind World History with Bill Weeks describing Mohammedan hordes swarming murderously into Europe shrieking, “Islam or the sword” and Charles Martel to the rescue.  Is there any way to Peace but War? Well, there's Escape. Broadway. The Swamp (Vandals v. Gators? sorry, but which one’s the cupcake, and who’s the idiot that put Alabama back on our schedule, and could we switch from FSU to UCF for Thanksgiving Dinner?). FridayFest. Gabaldon. Hunt’s Oyster Bar (Noise is Peace?). John Greenleaf Whittier. Apalachicola. Broadway? Edgar Allen Poe?    Broadway? We had a delightful taste last evening at Holy Nativity Episcopal Church, with Caitlin and Marqua. “A Night On Broadway with Caitlin McNeilage.” My favorites? “Over t...