Attitude

There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.

"Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today." So she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head."H-M-M," she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today." So she did and she had a grand day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head."Well," she said, "Today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail." So she did, and she had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head."YAY!" she exclaimed."I don't have to fix my hair today!"

Attitude is everything.
Be kinder than necessary,
For everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly.

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...
It's about learning to dance in the rain

Yes, I know this is hokey, and should be posted on Facebook, but I couldn't resist. So many of my problems in life can be traced to bad attitude. And I'm getting close to the three hairs on my head phase in any case.

Friday and Saturday

This has been a mixed week. I've already posted about Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday and Thursday were quiet days, on which I did little or nothing.

On Friday I had lunch with Dawn Bucket, née Fraffie Welch. I think I've written about Fraf before. She is the "local colour" opinion columnist for the Marblehead Reporter, and her opinions are forthright. She tools around town, berating motorists who run the stop sign at Pond and Green Streets, wonders aloud why the Pledge of Allegiance is not recited before Town Meeting (answer: No one seems to know.), and generally raises hell.

She says that I'm her biggest fan; I don't think that's true, as everyone in town reads her column and I'm sure that people who are closer to Marblehead also think a lot of her. We correspond regularly, and when I'm in Town we go out to lunch. So, Fraf took me to the Boston Yacht Club.

I have arrived.

The most prestigeous yacht club in a town with three or four of them, they have a great club building next to the water in Old Town, and have a reputation for great food. We ended up in the bar, where over one very powerful Manhattan we discussed Town affairs, and ranged up to Gloucester where one occasional guest at Hammond Castle years ago raised my eyebrows. But, more important, we decided to have the same dish. Now, trawnapanda, you are not allowed to comment, either snidely or not, on this. I have never in my entire life had lobster. My mother set one on the floor one day to scare me when I was little, and perhaps that's why I dislike seafood to this day. However, Fraf recommended the lobster roll, and I decided that I should try it once.

It was very good.

Later on in the afternoon I went into Boston to see my Facebook friend Sarav. It will probably be our only chance to meet for years to come, as he is moving from Cambridge to San Francisco next month. He is a fabulous guy from India who has adopted the US as his country. He dances classical Indian dance, is a crack coder, and has a very nice dog. We had chai and samosas, and discussed everything under the sun as we waited for people to come to buyhis bedroom set.

They never showed. So I did not have a chance to go out to dinner with him. However, he ferried me to Haymarket where I took the bus back to Marblehead. I wish him all the best in San Francisco; he is handsome, personable, and an all-round lovely person. SF needs to send about 10 people back here to Cambridge just to replace him here.

The transportation to and from Cambridge was very crowded that day. I wonder about the future of the T, seeing as they are running a deficit and can't run more trains or buses than they are.

Today my friend momshapedbox drove up from Connecticut to see me. That was 2 hours on the road here and 2 hours back. I am so honoured. Sue is what my mom would call a "hot ticket"—so bubbly and dynamic that it sometimes takes my breath away. She is also the mother of boyshapedbox, whom I have never met but who is a really great guy living in San Francisco with his husband and brightening up the Castro and Dolores Park. Sue and I drove up to Gloucester for two main reasons: first, I haven't been there in years, and second, I wanted to pick up some special rye whiskey that is distilled there. We parked on Main Street and had two hours to stroll and eat. We walked down and back and decided on Italian, which was very good. We went past my high school teacher's old place, 128 Main Street, which has gone from a Bohemian flat where movies and art were made to a CPA's office. Harry must be turning in his urn. I had my first glasses of wine there, learned an awful lot about myself and other people, and enjoyed Harry's wit, good humour, and joy in life.

We found a package store, and, lo and behold, I found one bottle of Ryan & Wood Straight Rye Whiskey, hand labelled "Barrel #11, Bottle #216". It was $38, but I had to have one and I got it. I won't have a chance to taste it until I get back to London, but I'm anticipating a lovely experience.

Tomorrow I will probably go to church, and then in the afternoon it's the traditional visit to Outback Restaurant in Peabody, where prime rib will be consumed and a good time will be had by all.