What’s in a title?
Or: Muse, amuse
B. Dazzled of South St. Paul: “Alcohol use holds a prominent, if sodden, place in the history of writing. From Faulkner to Fitzgerald, Poe to Capote, and Aeschylus to Hemingway, immoderate consumption often seemed de rigueur.
“Imagine the possibilities, had the booze industry lavished support on the great writers, poets and filmmakers of the ages in return for marketing and product placement, much like the brand sponsorships and corporate patronage that underwrite athletes and entertainers today. We might find our canon of film and literature subtly altered to include favorites like:
“The Three Muscatels
“The Canterbury Ales
“The Muppets Make Manhattans
Continue reading “‘Imagine the possibilities, had the booze industry lavished support on the great writers, poets and filmmakers of the ages …’”
Today’s helpful hint
Cursed Book Thieves Division (IV)
Here again, continuing her series, is Gammafaye: “If you have been wondering how small the ‘Small Book of Book Curses’ is, here is a selfie of said book:
“And here is book curse No. 4. An early-20th-century American rhyme is the only credit for this one:
“Who folds a leaf down,
“the devil toast brown:
“who makes mark or blot,
“the devil toast hot:
“who steals this book,
“the devil shall cook.
“The next book curse tags a book thief as an object of loathing. I know I said this of the first curse, but I really do not think, when it comes to a book thief, that these curses are unreasonable.”
The Permanent Daughterly Record
Or: Oh, and was her face red!
The Gram With a Thousand Rules writes: “Many years ago, a neighbor asked me if I would please take care of her little girl one afternoon for six weeks. She wanted to pay me, but I declined. I told her I would be happy to help her out as a favor.
Continue reading “Another message to book thieves: ‘Who steals this book, the devil shall cook’!”
Our theater of seasons
The Man from Milaca — “In the land of palm trees and sunshine” — reports: “Subject: The change of seasons.
“Towards sunset, yesterday, I went for a ride. First stop: the cemetery — appropriate at Halloween. Passed some decorated homes, but not many. The cemetery was quiet, rather unkempt, weeds along the fence. I can’t help wondering why it is not maintained more meticulously.
Continue reading “Even in the land of palm trees and sunshine, is life in November ‘merely a memory, a fleeting mist of a passing spirit’?”
One for the books
Leading to: Our times
Mounds View Swede: “My seventh-grade Civics teacher, Miss Drain (in Illinois), was a tough old bird, single, no-nonsense. We boys joked about her being an ex-Marine sergeant.
“She insisted I learn to write legibly or she would not accept my homework. I tried typing it, which was a learning experience in itself, but she would not accept it. On my first report card that year, I got a ‘D’ in Civics due to the unaccepted homework. What excuse could I offer to my parents? She wasn’t asking anything unreasonable.
Continue reading “Every time he writes a check, he remembers good old Miss Drain — ‘tough old bird, single, no-nonsense.’”