Of Bears and Penguins

Gentle readers,
I don’t usually shoot blogs from the hip, which is probably why I’ve amassed the small number of 191 posts since 2003. I like to think, write and not ramble, want to offer tidy sentences that always wrap up like bright ribbons at the end

But on this the 29th day of the fourth month of 2008, I offer you a ramble. I’m a quarter of a century, folks, I’ve earned a good ramble haven’t I? And if you’ll ramble with me, I’ll promise at least one prettily turned phrase, I am after all a lover of language, of life, and as Blythe knows a Strongbow cider and the earthy atmospheres of pubs, or honky-tonks, or the pleasant café I sit in at this very moment in my new neighborhood.

Readers, the Big Bear Café offers you a large and furry hug, a gift of warmth. Take it kindly.

In faith, folks, I have a merry heart that keeps ever on the windy side of care. I’ve always tried to keep my face to the wind. And the wind that’s blowing lately is awfully good.

It is so good that I wish to use exclamation points! Several!!! As decoration! And for emphas!s in expressing excitement! And emotion!

Typically, I hate those baseball bats of expression, and wish to bludgeon those who use them excessively. But a 25th birthday seems appropriate to their winsome interjections of Wow! And Neat-o!

Here are some just for fun:

!!! !! !!!!!!!! !

Consider them party favors!

For today, I am remembering those near and dear to me, as I try do on my birthdays, and I’m raising currently my cup of coffee, and later my glass of wine, to you.

It’s so easy in this age of technology to isolate oneself behind the warm blue glow of a cell phone, or the disturbing appendages of ear-bud headphones, to be tethered at the hip to the umbilical cord of e-mail, and constant communication.

But the song sounds better if you share it. Take the ear bud out of your ear, wipe it gently on your shirt: offer it to a stranger, say, “I’d like to share this.” Don’t be alarmed if they run away, as any sane person would if offered something with a whisper of ear wax on it, just offer it to the next person, and to the one after that. Don’t you feel better already?

I know someone who got a picnic basket as a Christmas gift. And isn’t that a brilliant gift, a gift that says, “Go share a meal with someone, go out and enjoy the day, and share it. Don’t hideaway behind a book, or screen…Life’s waiting to be lived, and perhaps also loved.”

Life’s a together type of thing. This goes against the terrific individuality and rugged, aloneness of the American character.

I walked across the street the other day and met some of my new neighbors. They shared their jump rope with me. I tried to learn how to jump double-dutch. They turned and sang “Teddy bear, teddy bear, turn around.” The rope flew over our heads, and under our feet, faster till the only sound was its click on the pavement, the slap of our shoes and finally a roaring laughter.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I drove out of Baltimore for good last Saturday at about 3 pm. I didn’t look back. I haven’t looked back. It was a time of searing trial, but I was not overcome, and now my feet are standing in a cooler place. Near more quiet waters.

King David, they say danced. And some people were embarrassed by it. But I’m of a kindred spirit. I’m taking off my shoes, walking barefoot in the grass, throwing my arms up, and kicking up my heels. Of course David danced, sometimes that’s the best way to say “thank you,” for what you’ve got.

I’m 25 today.

I am saying “Thank you.”

I’ve always loved old people, because I’m jealous of all that life they’ve lived.

(My computer battery’s on its last leg, can I beat the clock here? Fly fingers and thoughts!)

!!

Someday, I hope I’ll have a royal crown of gleaming white hair, like my grandmother’s carried, for they had rich lives, and that is what I want.

I’ll grab life by my teeth, and romp around with it, give a good shake. And when my head, if the Lord grants me that many years, is crowned with those fly-away whisps of white, I hope I will still be dancing barefoot and saying “thank you.”

I hope you will too.

I made a friend of mine laugh once on my birthday.

“Happy birthday,” he said.
“Happy birthday to you,” I replied.
“It’s not my birthday,” he said.
“I know,” I said. “But happy birthday anway.”

Things are better when they’re shared. That’s why Oreos are made to take apart and hand to a friend, why twinkies come in packs of two, why it takes two to tango, and two-step and a whole handful for a conga line.

So happy birthday, on this the 29th day of the fourth month of the year 2008. The world’s still turning under our dancing feet.

Happy birthday to you.