everyone is busy it's you and not unusual everyone pursues happiness it's true and not out of the question everyone is in pain we have aspirin everyone will die you and i sooner or later we'll get pie in the sky or the earth beneath our feet the lumpy bit where the rain goes to drain and where bacteria do whatever it is they do to roots there we'll be or floating and dusty emerging from the crematorium chimney our calendar cleared no more appointments the no show at the meeting this is our fate as unavoidable as the lovely fresh leather smell of my schoolboy satchel a sign that i must go to school as unavoidable as geography tests on the morrow as true as a pencil turned by any pencil sharpener as true as a wooden slide or other rule quite as sad as a bottle of quink leaking onto my rubber banded plastic mac staining the leather the first guy to teach me orwell got hit by a truck the second could still be alive for all i know neither of them had much time for hemingway the first guy to teach me orwell was an admirer not merely of the clarity of his prose but of the man's decency the second was a revolutionary who wanted to strip bare middle class pretension masquerading as concern for the worker for both hemingway was not a man from michigan he was an american foreign someone drinking wine in paris an ex-pat when the down and outs of london dreamed of beds dripping and chips hemingway was recording the measure of scott fitzgerald's (see wikipedia under "a moveable feast") David Ritchie, Portland, Oregon------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html