They say a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of love in the spring. Not being a young man anymore, I have to admit that the good weather takes me away from such thoughts. O, sure, the eyes definitely linger over a nice pair of gams scissoring under a spring skirt, and I can’t say I’m at all distressed by the peaky-toe (isn’t that a crab?) shoes I see all over the place. But I’ve got birds, bees, and trees occupying my time. I couldn’t remember when I last cruised my online dating service, so I checked in last night. My sub runs out in a month and I’m not currently tempted to carry it over. But, just because it’s organized like a candy store and hard to resist, I responded to an ad; my response rate is something like one out of five, so chances are good she won’t get back to me, and I don’t really care.
I did have dinner with M before I left town for a long weekend. [I went to what I like to call “the family compound” because it’s so small and the island is full of oversized second homes of the ruling class and the shantytowns of the gastarbeiter who serve them. Our dynasty manages the thin middle ground, the middle lower upper middle class.] That was our second get-together, but since her sister was there as chaperone it didn’t feel very datey.
BTW, can you guess where this image comes from? Hint, it's cut into slate.
2 comments:
Green-Wood?
Figures the Canadian gets it. Wrong cemetery but otherwise spot on. This is a slate grave stone, 18th century, a bit earlier than most of the permanent residents in Green-Wood. Old North Cemetery, Nantucket, MA. The once popular weeping willow motif is visible in the background.
I'm always struck how the older slate stones are so much clearer than the more recent granite and marble ones, which just melt in the atmosphere over the years. Of course, they're all being demoilished by time and assholes. More info here.
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