[lit-ideas] Re: None Dare Call It Reason

  • From: "Veronica Caley" <molleo1@xxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Wed, 17 Sep 2008 14:53:02 -0400


It doesn't matter what you look like. A couple of years ago when I was too weak to type, you wrote about your childhood. I read that and I immediately tried to think who it was the style and content of the letter reminded me of. It took a year or so before I could remember.

It finally came to me about a year later. Something written by Loren Eisley. As fine a writer as I have ever read that goes right to the heart. The passage that I still remember from his work was about a tree he and his father planted when he was very little. Nearing the end of his life, he went back and looked for it. It had been cut down.

This brought both of us to tears - he when he saw it gone and me when I read it. I don't cry easily. If I did, I wouldn't be on this list. You really ought to be writing and writing.

Veronica the fool, applying for a position with King Lear

----- Original Message ----- From: "Mike Geary" <atlas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
Sent: Wednesday, September 17, 2008 1:21 PM
Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: None Dare Call It Reason

Isn't that just like Mike...putting the Lit back in Lit-Ideas.

You're so presumptuous, Ursula. Why do you assume I wasn't trying to put the id back into Lit-Id?

When I was a college kid, I was in lust over this woman who I thought just might lust after me. But she was studying at the University of Michigan and I was attending Christian Brothers College in Memphis. So I gathered up all my loose change and flew up to Ann Arbor to visit her -- this was in the pre-sexual-debauchery-destroys-America era so I had to sleep on the floor of a some male friends of hers in the male dormitory. What a bummer. One night we went to see a North Vietnamese produced anti-American propaganda film about how clever the Viet Cong were in fighting the American devils with sharpened bamboo spikes set in booby-traps along jungle trails. And although I know this might cause Lawrence to go into convulsions, I too applauded with all the others at the cleverness of the Viet Cong against the B-52 bicepped Americans. When the film was over and the lights came back on, this tall (I'm short), ruggedly masculine-looking guy (I'm non-descript) thanked us all for coming. The woman I lusted after leaned over and said to me -- as if I were her closest female friend -- "That guy's my id-ideal." Which I took to mean: "Sorry, sweetie, I don't like you THAT way."

Ever since then I've been looking for the woman for whom I'm the id-ideal. She's out there somewhere, I know. Maybe in Kansas. I suggest that everyone assume I'm idding, not Litting when I post.

Mike Geary
(and thanks to the off-lister who appreciated my "poem" as well)

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