[lit-ideas] Sunday Wotsit
- From: David Ritchie <ritchierd@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2011 12:14:05 -0700
Those of you who are not old enough to understand the wonder of this, forgive
me. Imagine sitting on a crappy old boat-- fiber glass, made in the sixties,
battery giving grief-- there in the middle of Netarts Bay. I pull yet another
crab ring, sort through females and juveniles...still only one keeper. It's a
slow day. My pocket makes a bing bong noise, so I peel off neoprene gloves,
slip well-worn waterproofs below my waist, fumble, pull out my cheapo phone.
Sender's number display begins 011 44. Britain surely? The explanation is
that seconds before, daughter fresh off the bus in Wordsworth Country, taking
time out from contemplating sun striking dormant daffodil bulbs and famous
cloud-producing waterfall, plinked a birthday wish. She then hit "send."
Information transformed from bytes into wavy bits, shot through the sky,
bounced off some lightweight contraption stuck up in space, returned to earth
and landed inch-perfectly in my chicken-stinking hands. (That's what we use
for bait). What a catch.
On a different bay, on a different day, fifty or more boats are out, totally
failing to catch salmon.
"What on earth are we doing?"
"We're occupying the bay."
"Forgot our placards, didn't we?"
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
Other related posts:
