Sunset at Lake Macbride near Solon, Iowa.

Wedding guests mingling near the lake under the moon.

Last Saturday we attended the wedding of a close friend that I used to work with. It was an unseasonably warm day that could not have been more perfect for a wedding. It was good to see some old friends from my days of working at the Co-op.

Ceremonies by the water make me nervous. I am always wary of some ancient guest pulling me aside and telling some war story about dead albatrosses. Thankfully this did not happen. The bride did read a poem that I have always liked by E. E. Cummings. Here it is:

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

"He looked like a dictator on the point of starting a purge."

This is a picture I took last week when I was driving around aimlessly. It appears that the place is no longer a diner but seems to be operating as a sports bar.

I am on P.G. Wodehouse kick at the moment, specifically the Blandings Castle novels. For me reading these are very relaxing, stress relief at its best. Christopher Buckley once said words to the effect that it is impossible to remain unhappy while reading Wodehouse even if you try. He can turn a phrase as very few can. Check out the random quote generator.

Been a bit remiss in posting of late. Random shot from downtown IC. Like most places I suppose, Fall is one of the better times here. Will keep updated soon.

"...Between the moon and NYC..."

I think this is near the 200 block of 8th Ave.

After we checked into the Chelsea and dropped off our bags we went for a stroll around the neighborhood. We were a little hot and thirsty so I picked the first joint that looked like it had room to sit at the bar. Turned out to be very gay (not that there is anything wrong with that) with a 2 for 1 drink special and good tunes. So we stuck around and enjoyed the air conditioning. On our 3rd or 4th drink they started passing out cards for Drag Queen Puppet Bingo. Naturally S. won the first game and the photo above is her collecting her coupon for a Bacardi Peach drink from the puppet MC that was a dead ringer for Madame. I was a little fuzzy and couldn't hold the camera still as usual. It didn't help that S. was hiding behind a fake palm tree to avoid being photographed.

Post bingo stroll towards dinner with my eyes apparently shut. We had a very good and comparatively cheap Thai meal at a place called Spice. Drinks were redundant at this point but I had the Mojito Sake Kamikaze and S. soldiered on and armed herself with a Sake Bomb. Our plans to get up early the next morning and catch a museum did not pan out for some reason. Instead we had some great bagels at Murray's and then off to Grand Central and points east.

Noank, CT

We were craving a lobster roll when we made it to Connecticut....

...and we found an excellent one despite the intitial sticker shock of $13.95 (I have been away too long!) that included cole slaw and beverage... (I do realize that some purists would eschew the hamburger bun in favor of the split top hot dog bun. But since it is supposed to be about the lobster and this was a hot lobster roll and not a lobster salad roll I had no complaints.)

...and then a big sailboat went past to complete the scene while phrases of this poem bounced around my skull along with traces of rum from the previous evening.

Sea-Fever

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

John Masefield (1878-1967).
(English Poet Laureate, 1930-1967.)