Overheard this morning, from a group of three floor traders at the Mercantile Exchange who were sitting outside talking loud and smoking:
"But all the apostles were married."
For no good reason, that made me happy. Walking by a group of people from whom I'm inclined to expect the worst; on a particularly drowsy morning; with a long day, week, month, year ahead of me and hearing that...it was like a Turnpike sign. Whenever I drive to Pennsylvania to see my sister, on the roads outside Trenton every fifteen miles or so there are little signs for the Turnpike. Hardly noticeable, even; just the NJT logo and an arrow. The Turnpike is far enough away that they don't tell you the distance; just a little wink to let you know you're headed in the right direction.
I'm talking too much about Walker Percy and his language here, to the point of pretentiousness. But damned if he wasn't on target more than most.
Back to the watermelons. More as it develops.
@ 3:06:00 PM,

0 Comments:
<< Home