‘Tis the night before I turn 50. I contemplate. So of course, my brain turns to mush.
Much of the serious contemplation turns to the last post, which is a poem by e e cummings, recited at the opening of a conference I was just at by Brother David Steindl-Rast. He and I have become buddies now, united in our love for that particular poet. Years ago, I read Bro David’s stuff in Parabola magazine in college; now, I know him. I wish I could say I deserve to know him. I do not. Knowing him now is a birthday gift I do not deserve.
Reminiscences: My party for my 40th was so memorable, that I can’t believe it was a decade ago. I last saw Mel, the husband of a dear friend, at that party; he died of a massive heart attack about three weeks later.
So I sit in drowsy blogginess in a hotel room this evening, listening to the Saturday night carousing at the bar by the pool, several stories below. And since I am currently sojourning in Los Angeles (Sunset Strip), I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for choosing to host the Oscars® this year on my fiftieth birthday.
You love me! You really love me!
Okay, I’m done now. Nighty-night.
white pebble 