[lit-ideas] Re: Sunday Poem

Death they say is a great motivator, reminding us what we are about and where, but in the current cold spell, which came in like a lion, I am inclined to lie like a sprung lamb, musing on wardrobes and witches and similarly fantastic stuff.
In the days of the empire, when it was quite normal for even those who conducted themselves correctly to die suddenly and with some degree of surprise, the road to success was clearly marked, lying through Civil Service Mandalay or the Shanghai and Somewhere-or-Other Bank. Now the signposts say "toutes directions" and the way has been camouflaged to avoid the naieve eyes of satellites.
Roaming about the house like a chained spirit, I note that on larder shelves we no longer horde fish. Though sardines in cans (or tins) are still instant (or at least quite quick), their place in the food chain is about as vital today as army surplus peas. We are offered in their stead bully pulpit chips made from carrots or plantains, and Henry Weinhard's winter lager, launched long after that brewery left town and the building was turned into Whole Foods. 

We know branding is a motivator too.
I wonder if cows are aware of this, or do they just experience a slightly odd smell in the air, accompanied by a sudden sense of fear?
Terry Toedtemeier died. We shared three passions: old Alphas, the Gorge, teaching. You find me currently cocooned and carefully avoiding the subject.
http://blog.oregonlive.com/visualarts/2008/12/ obituary_terry_toedtemeier_cur.html 

David Ritchie,
Portland, Oregon
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