How do you do?
A hand shake, a heartbreak, a double take, and a dash of fate. Let’s find our passion and run. So run with us and some run slower. We can’t help who runs faster, even as we try our hardest to keep up, but being the best we can at what we don’t mind doing is a true mark of the human spirit. Fred Astaire, extraordinaire, watch him glide the dance floor’s length. Followed by the one and only Gene Kelly. Photo op, let’s hop, show people how we feel when our love becomes our life.
Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire
Bodies on cables,
notes on a staff,
words in a notebook,
plots on a graph.
Were the support not rendered, the bodies be at rest. At home sleeping, on the street looking for jobs, in the water swimming for lack of a bridge to the mainland. Were the cables invisible, we’d witness a supposed phenomenon. Well dressed men levitating on air aligned to the most peculiar plane. Another example of the brave men, the stupid men, the desperate men, the hardworking men who needed no harnesses or nets to prevent their falls. Only limbs prevented them from an eminent tumble and if such a fate ‘come reality, they’d be the first to tell you they weren’t pulling their weight and deserved it. The attitude that built this nation didn’t depend on OSHA or workman’s comp. Just the drive to keep up with the production around him and the will to survive.
Painters on the Brooklyn Bridge Suspender Cables-October 7, 1914 (by Museum of Photographic Arts Collections)
Every generation laughs at the old fashions, but follows religiously the new.
What is it that drives a man? Hold tight to what you find along the way, my young America, for it’ll be out of production tomorrow. Out of print. Out of style. Out of time. Never before, in the history of man, have we seen society change as frequently and sporadically as in the last 100 years. The industrial age came and with those assembly lines and driving conveyor belts came fads, name brands, and hundreds of knock offs that promise us the things we cry for in the middle of the night. Immortality. Everyone craves it. who doesn’t want to live forever, or at least be remembered for a hundred years. A hundred years from now, we’ll all have passed but our facebook pages will remain as dusty tombs to a life that once was.
Build a life of real things, I beg of you. Have things that other people can have when you’re done having them. That’s the most beautiful part of possession, letting another have something you love. Good Night, young America.
I sit, on three hours of sleep, feeling uneasy in the pit of my stomach. Not for any other reason than the lack of sleep. Not for any other reason than the lack of sleep and the feeling of being lost. Not for any other reason that the lack of sleep, the feeling of being lost, and the sense I watched a glimpse of a good thing die before my eyes simply because of wrong place and wrong time last night. Not for any other reason than eating too late.
One thing I have this morning is my hat. Somethings I have this morning are my hat and my jacket. Some things I have this morning are my hate, my jacket, my sunglasses, and the belief that something else good is out there over the horizon. Nothing poetical this morning, gents and ladies, just thoughtful.
This is a spiral. As literal as they come. It ends where you don’t want it to, and begins where you least expect it to. Neither location is where you think it is, though. Hold onto the banister and watch your step, this it life and the descent is a part of it.