Povey Prattle

The Saturday edition of the Sarasota Herald-Tribune newspaper is hardly worth buying (by a person of my age and circumstances). For it is always dominated by (a)  reports of local High School (American) Football games, and by (b)   all too many advertisements for  furniture. (I'll warrant that this is also the case for many other local 'papers). I can "live with this"  so to speak, but it raises a couple of questions. First:  Do American people develop a lust for new furniture each weekend? Second:  Why is furniture ( and beds/ mattresses)   always on SALE?  (i.e., why do these items never have a fixed and advertised price?)    The answer lies deep in the nature of capitalism (hee hee), and in the mythical "free market",  and in P.T. Barnum's observation about "suckers". Capitalism attracts so many suckers: especially the Republicans for whom the so-called free market  is more potent than the free grace of...

Folks of my generation (early baby boomers)  sometimes make mistakes regarding engagements and appointments. For instance -  I thought that   I was to have lunch with my friends Barbara and Kay on Thursday, and with my friend Muriel today. Turns out that it was the other way round -  i.e.  Thursday with Muriel, and today with B and K. In the event I was alerted to my mistaken thoughts because Muriel telephoned to confirm our Thursday arrangement. Was my mistake  a sign of Alzheimer's Disease?  Stuff and nonsense!  It was no more or less than an indication that in retirement I check my calendar less often than when I was working  and in the midst of things. IN A SIMILAR VEIN -  I had written in my calendar that the Sarasota "Pride" Festival was on Oct 12th.  I had promised to staff the St. Boniface Church (Sarasota) booth between noon and 2:00.p.m. As I "talked this up" with my lesbian and gay pals I was s...

M-riel Qu-nn and I attend and serve in the same Episcopal parish here in Sarasota.  We are about the same age and come from similar backgrounds in England , she in Oldham, Lancashire and I in Bristol. I always enjoy being with her.  So we hung out together for lunch today at an Indian Restaurant up at the fast growing University Parkway/Interstate 75/Lakewood Ranch area. This is where retail centre of gravity for Sarasota and Manatee Counties is moving. "Indian Food"   - what a strange concept, since there are so many regional foods in the Indian sub-continent  which cannot be summed up in just  two words. Nonetheless  M.Q. and I were at an "Indian Restaurant" for a lunch time buffet. The food was good, but not great.  That seems to be typical of such luncheon buffets where the spices and curries are somewhat muted.  (I experienced the same at an Indian Restaurant in Davis Square, Somerville, MA.) M.Q. and I were ...

Forgive the parochial nature of  this post..  I am British by birth and an American citizen, so whilst I am perfectly aware of the hard times in many countries, I write this from and for an Anglo-American perspective.   In the light of the ghastly and dangerous stand-off  in the American House of Representatives , I have had the chorus of one of Stephen Foster's songs on my mind all day. They go like this: Tis the song, the sigh of the weary, Hard Times, hard times, come again no more Many days you have lingered around my cabin door; Oh hard times come again no more.  Foster, who himself knew many hard times,  penned these words in in 1854, less than a decade before the American Civil War (or whatever you chose to call it)  when hard times were visited upon hundreds of thousands of Americans. Thanks to the perfidy of conservative politicians, and the recklessness of bankers and financiers, and the short sighted policie...

I have been posting to this blog since 2007, during which time I have posted 1998 entries, and the blog has received 132,917 page views. Therefore please excuse me as I take a night off.

I met David C today.  David is the brother of C and brother in law of R - my  Sarasota friends who live down at Gulf Gate. David C and his wife are moving from Belchertown MA to west central Florida. The moment I encountered David C I thought "now there's an honest face for you"  As we chatted over lunch my initial hunch was more and more confirmed  -  I was meeting a man of deep and gentle truth, and purity of heart. Later in the day his sister wrote to me saying "David would have loved to spend the afternoon asking you questions about theology and history.  He is a farmer who reads ancient history and the Congressional Record and quotes both"   In these days of bitterness, boredom and cynicism it was such a pleasure to meet such a man "in whom there is no guile".          

So you walk out in your neighborhood in the late afternoon or early evening,  just as your neighbor is barbecuing some chicken, or ribs, or sausage, or hamburgers. Damn  -  that's such a sweet smell.  You want to rush over and steal a sausage from her grill. Then you ask -  "why does the smell from the grill across the street seem to be so much more delightful and enticing than the smell from my own grill?" Does this important question have a definitive answer?