Waiting Om a Friend
I'm waiting for Divine Inspiration.
I'm just waiting on plain ol' inspiration, too.
Ah, hell, let's face it. I'm just waiting.
posted by The Warbler | 1/18/2006 09:04:00 PM
- Tradition
- If I Give My Heart To You
- The Love Boat
- Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition
- Heard It Through the Grapevine
- Hey Nineteen
- The Sound of Music
- I'm Bidin' My Time
- Paperback Writer
- Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better
8 Comments:
How about some 'fine perspiration?'
Sometimes it's easier to achieve...
Does that require physical exertion? Cuz that's not, like, really my thing...
One of my favorite Rolling Stones tunes! Jazzy, sorta. "I'm just waiting on a lady ... I'm just waitin' on a friend." [Now I need that MP3 capability to set the mood.]
I know how you feel, though. After a couple of days of lots of activity (some good, some bad), all the sudden it was like the Lord let the air out of the balloon, and it shot around the room for a second and plopped onto the floor, spent.
Some days it just don't pay to fight it, and give into the mood and write a poem or a song and usually that helps.
Saw your husband on the Boat today. Hope you have a great time with him
Um, thank you, I think? We don't actually get to spend much time in the same room together, but when we do we try to enjoy each other's company.
Hey Warbler come on, seeing somebody on the boat, a Block Island ferry, is like a lifeline to reality. Back in the old days about a quarter of the town would show up for the afternoon boat that had the goodies and the mail. To borrow a concept from you, it was tradition.
The wind would cut through you and it was cold as could be some days but the locals would show up, sometimes shuffling snow and slush out of the way in a little path. Back in those days you just pulled you car or truck right up to the dock and walked the last hundred feet because the boats were side-loaders. The kids would sometimes rassle over being the first to take the lines from the ferry and clew her down.
Then two big boys from the mainland would hoist or lower the ramp depending on the tide. All eyes were watching, and they never faltered and they tried to act like James Dean, real cool. The girls liked that pretty good, I think.
I can't speak for how y'all feel today, but back then the Islanders inspected everything that went on and off that boat, including the size of the mailbag, the number of people, and the stuff for the grocery store. It was a huge event.
It ended, and everyone left as some kind of anti-climax, but they were all still calculatin' in their heads. I could tell that for certain. You'd act the same if you did it almost every day, too.
Yeah, Sam, I rode the ferry for 11 years. Not quite as frequently as my husband and lots of commuters and it wasn't nearly as much fun as "the old days" - I love to hear my father-in-law tell stories of the Manitou in rough seas - "that weren't a ferry, that were a submarine she was under water so much."
Maybe they should have named her the "Cormorant" because of her obscene diving habits.
I mean the Manitou, not a person!
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