Friday, April 15, 2005

Life is poetry- sometimes tragic poetry

I was on my way to the gym. I spy all kinds of fire engines and ambulances coming my direction. My office is next door to a KFC. There is already an ambulance parked in front of the KFC. I round the corner and I see a man, in his 40's sprawled across the sidewalk near the exit of this chicken place. They have his shirt pulled up and are trying to zap his heart into beating again. Seems he enjoyed a deep fried lunch and his heart hath protested.

I had a camera in my purse, and thought for a moment that this would be a great photo, but decided against it.
What if he died there today? I would never forgive myself of taking such a humiliating photo of a dead man.

I hope it was just a scare.

KFC= Finger Lickin' Death

Say hello to the now you know today...

I put the new Posies record up on my I-tunes this morning so I could listen to it as I work. I have not listened to it since Jon finished his record, so I am hearing it for the first time all over again. I can't get over how proud I am of them!

There is something about the sound of Jon's voice that has a Pavlovian effect on me.
Since the first time he called me in Alaska from Seattle some ten years ago and we had one of our notorious marathon conversations.

It doesn't matter what is going on, or where I am, I hear his voice and feel this something that can only be described as a love buzz.
It can be on the other end of a phone line, on a CD or on an answering machine message. It really doesn't matter. That man has a voodoo.

I think if I stopped hearing tomorrow the one sound I would remember perfectly and miss the most is the sound of his voice.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

down under and then in outerspace

I went to Australia in my dreams last night and visited an old friend and a newer/old friend. We drank purple drinks, we called them grape knee highs with a kick. 11%
Later my dream morphed into me trying to find my way through a logging town full of water instead of streets and docks, I was cold and uncomfortable. The air was wet so even on dry land you felt a chill, I ran into my friend who died about this time last year and I talked to him. He told me to remember talking to him because that was him visiting me. I woke up saying that I can't forget, that it was real.
It was so cold but when I saw him I was so happy. I still can't really accept that he is dead.

It has all been lingering with me today.

Oh and the other weird thing; remember the Eng family plot I was talking about that stuck out to me the other day?
Well I heard the Eng family name on the news last eve. Man shot his wife, then their 6 month old baby sat in the yard with dead mommy until a little neighbor girl came by and found the blood covered baby crawling around in the morning. They were the Eng family.

Monday, April 11, 2005

Cemetary song..

Took the kids to the cemetery because they wanted to go. (They wanted to see Bruce lee and Brandon Lee's graves, since we live next door, I figured what the heck)

Found a family plot for a family called Eng.
There was some little piece of foil or something that was reflecting the sun to make sparkles dance across it (We could not find it when we got there) so the kids wanted to go see it. When I looked at the graves there were several very small ones on the ground and one huge one that stood taller than me.

The small one to the right of it was a man who's stone read "Husband of Elizabeth Eng"
I looked at the tall one and it was Elizabeth's. It had a quote written on it that read:
"Mouths can not speak her perfections"
She died when she was 23 he died 3 years later at 29.

It looks like they had at least one kid born the year before she died. Her kid or grandchild died in 2000. She was born in 1909.

I bet there is quite the love story there.

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