2. I used to wonder why old ladies' make-up became so garish the older they got. And my daughter once commented that the old ladies in the elevator always smelled funny. Funny peculiar, not funny ha ha.
Age gives us answers not requiring research. Wait long enough and it will all become clear.
I can't see my face in the mirror clearly any more. There are no spectacles to remedy this problem and old eyes are too dry to tolerate contact lenses. So, in the interest of looking reasonably presentable, I give a swipe to the area above both eyes with an eye pencil and hope that my glasses will hide the dubious results. I do realize that it won't matter to anyone but me. Old indoctrination dies hard.
The smell thing may be due to the fact that some older women inadvertently leak urine when coughing, sneezing or laughing. And the older one gets the more one coughs, sneezes or, it is to be hoped, laughs.
3. Everyday I resolve to refrain from commenting on facebook entries and every day I fail. Interesting how, among those who post often, consistent attitudes are discernible. Me too, of course.
Do people who post on FB mentally address their offerings to a particular imagined or remembered person?
4. Okay, this is scary. I am trying to think of the name of the man who wrote the play with Marlon Brando in which the star said she always depended on the kindness of strangers. All that information is in my head, just under a mental film of cloudy water. Also the tiny glass animals, ah, menagerie. All I could ever want to know about this writer and his plays are there, almost visible but just out of reach. Tom someone? Is that...is this what the dread A disease feels like from inside? I know where he lived, I can picture it, a southern town, but I can't say or write it. How can it be there, so clear in the cloudy water of the mind that knows, recognizes but cannot bring up enough to say or write.?
Sort of what it feels like to awaken from a dream that is almost tangible, but maddeningly amorphous.
Faulkner?
5. The net is a wonderful help to me in this case. Ah, not Faulkner, but the net got me there. Tennessee Williams.
Et, voila, with that one string end it all comes clearly into consciousness. Or a kind of consciousness, the kind that lives in the physical world and can communicate with other living people. There may be many kinds. That underwater consciousness where this information lay before must be a kind of consciousness. I think there is much in the mind that we know nothing of. Or maybe it is only I who know nothing of it.
Test: Thomas Lanier Williams, Born Mississippi--interesting (to me) mental aside for research purposes--the name of the state where he was born, and the name he chose to go by as an adult, each are states with several double letters. Tennessee. Mississippi. Another non sequitur: Mississippi was the first long word I could spell and I insisted on demonstrating this to every one I met when I was four or so. About the time I flew.
The Glass Menagerie, A Streetcar Named Desire, all those southern desire and angst plays and books. Taylor in Cat.
6. Return from long digression now. The point was that Tennessee once said he wrote with his sister , Rose, in mind.Paris Review Interview Tennessee Williams
My question was, do people who post on FB think of who will read what they offer? But, after that long digression, I am out of the mood to pursue that idea.
7. It seems to me that FB and it's ilk and the net in general are helpful tools for the aging mind. Many older people's contact with other live people face to face is reduced over time. Physical or financial restrictions or simply all the old friends dying off and the young friends and relations going about living their own lives.
8. My brain is tired of thinking of these things and my eyes are not focusing well and I'm hungry. I just finished my fifth cup of coffee and need to get up from this chair and move my body.
4 comments:
So it turns out you held more info in your head that most ever knew about the man; you knew he was a Tom, for instance. I like to pronounce his name Weeums. It's funny, haha.
I wonder what a funny, haha, smell would smell like. They say that smell is the most evocative of the senses. Can a smell remind you of something that made you laugh and laugh and laugh?
Wow, the Pats cheat by not inflating the ball to regs? Why, I never. As to that woman you keep quoting: if'n y'don't stop, I'm'onna start namin' you Karella Deville.
Continuing in that vein: one might think that it couldn't possibly matter (throwing the 'gentlemen' part in there gives it the air of "Ooh, yeah, she's stickin' it to the old boys club!" but just because the wingnuts wanna use Bengazi!!11 as a wedge issue, doesn't mean it doesn't matter.
Continuing... like, sure the statement in and of itself means that we cannot change the past, so "logical". Take that, Repubtards!
Kind of like "It takes a village" is so true. We all know it's true. But if I might paraphrase the president (how convenient for me): I'm not sure what village you're advocating for when you serve on the board of Wal*Mart or lobby on behalf of the likes of Larry Summers. Nuff said. End of story. I couldn't possibly comment (too late).
So, yeah, the Colts got shellacked and the ball-pressure wouldn't seem to've made a diff. But it is common in the world of sports to shift culpability from the wrongdoers or, as the case may be, those tasked with making sure it's done right, to some other aspect like, for example, that shitty call in the Cowboy's game. No matter how definitive the fuckup, the sports uninalist always says, "But the fact is that if they wanted to win, they should've played better. In Indy's case, it's probably true, but the Pats be some cheatin' mofos.
I imagine Facebook is a place for many to stroke the ego with a sense of popularity amongst their reading friends without having to leave the chair - or toilet for those with smartphones. I think it's also a place for some folks to be activist, to make people aware of stuff, or to just feel like that's what they're doing. It's also a place to crack jokes.
I also think you're right about it being a useful tool in the sense you mentioned - as is this here, if you can get others to play. Facebook is better for that, by default, I guess. Easier to gather participants.
I think women look better without makeup no matter the age. Lots a fellas say that, and lotsa gals say that fellas say that but don't really mean it. I really mean it. But at the end of the day, what possible difference could it make?
Now that I think of it, that sentence sounds an awful lot like a quote from some earlier, maybe English cleric such as Sir Thomas More. Like Henry wanted a 6th wife and he would say, If he were still alive, to the rest of the deposed beheaded heads of the church, "At his point, Gentlemen, what difference could it possibly make. We all know it's the King who can't make a baby.
Here's to sterile kings and fat jokes:
http://www.theonion.com/articles/nfl-investigating-whether-patriots-played-game-wit,37805/
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