I was never much of a The Who fan.. Sure, I enjoyed the songs I heard of theirs, but I’ve never bought an album, wouldn’t pick one out of someone else’s collection to play, and never would’ve bothered going to a concert…until some buddies at work in the late ’80s cajoled me into joining them for the 25th anniversary reunion tour.
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The beginning of a beautiful friendship: Rick and Louie in Casablanca
As much as I’m a huge fan of Casablanca, I’m a bit ambivalent about the ending between Rick and Ilsa. Fortunately, the film fully redeems itself in the final moments between Humphrey Bogart and Claude Rains.
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A Manual on the Art of Fiction, fact and truth
A Manual of the Art of Fiction
Deva Premal sings The Moola Mantra: a gift of love
A couple days ago, this mantra played during a peaceful, energetic, meditative moment while in a healing session with my chiropractor. It reminded me, as it often does, of the woman who gave it to me. It was my introduction to the grounding peace and tranquility of mantras. As I listened, I remembered that in just a couple days in her part of the world, now this morning, the sun would rise on the anniversary of her birth.
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Butterflies: Hope for the caterpillars
While we’re still fresh with images of butterflies…
‘You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.’
from Hope for the Flowers
I posted this as a note on my Facebook profile a while back, passing it along from an FB friend’s status, and not bothering to look up the author or the source. This is what Wikipedia has to say about it:
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Fleetwood Mac and my summer of love
I can’t remember how I met her. I think it was possibly on the boardwalk, or in the arcades at Weirs Beach. I do remember my buddy Brad and I hitching part way around Lake Winnnepesaukee so I could be with her. It was the summer of ’76 on the lake, and my first summer love, and I’d just turned 15. I was raging hormones and sweet tenderness and she was Vicki, beautiful, smart, from Detroit and spending the summer at her family’s cabin in Meredith, New Hampshire, a 20 minute drive from where I lived.
That summer now punctuates many wonderful memories. What could be better than summer in New England’s Lakes Region learning about love, kissing, passionate caresses and long, lazy days on the lake?
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Speaking of spew… Jack Nicholson can’t handle the Witches of Eastwick.
This post in response to a now defunct post, “Jack spews the truth and nothing but” in which the author lauds Nicholson’s memorable line from A Few Good Men… “You can’t handle the truth!” and a few other memorable film quotes.
I’d add to that list Jack Nicholson’s delivery of “Wait ’til they get a load of me!” in Batman. But in another stratosphere is this magnificently oh-so-Nicholson scene from Witches of Eastwick. In this clip, Jack Nicholson spews much more than the truth, much more than clever lines, he spews cherries…and this kick-ass divine query. He really wants to know!
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Winnie the Pooh and the Vinegar Tasters
The Vinegar tasters is among my favourite allegories and provides an excellent introduction to the three philosophies that dominated China through thousands of years: Buddhism, Confucianism and Taoism. For me, the most important of these is Taoism, a gentle, soulful and luminous philosophy. I’m going to be lazy and let someone else explain it all.
If you’ve read Benjamin Hoff’s The Tao of Pooh, you may recall this passage. If you haven’t, I recommend you do. It’s a beautifully gentle introduction to an utterly Eastern way of thinking.
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The Butterfly through the eyes of Zorba the Greek
The Butterfly
I remember one morning when I discovered a cocoon in the back of a tree just as a butterfly was making a hole in its case and preparing to come out. I waited awhile, but it was too long appearing and I was impatient. I bent over it and breathed on it to warm it. I warmed it as quickly as I could and the miracle began to happen before my eyes, faster than life. The case opened; the butterfly started slowly crawling out, and I shall never forget my horror when I saw how its wings were folded back and crumpled; the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold them. Bending over it, I tried to help it with my breath, in vain.
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On the Edge of Seventeen: Stevie Nicks & Gabriella Cilmi
While posting the last couple of articles about young Gabriella Cilmi, this song intruded … “on the edge of seven teen”.
Stevie Nicks, another young singer songwriter with a massive presence, though her fairy-like soulful countenance is nothing like Cilmi’s old soul, simmering sexuality.
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