Morning all:

Happy Mother’s Day weekend as I raise my coffee mug in salute. I guess it’s a little too early to hear your mug clink mine to complete the salutation. This week hearts go out to Donn and Marlene as they mourn the loss of their young friend, Kyle. The evening after his passing I set out on my usual 3-mile hike. Turning the corner the street offers a slight uphill grade. There was no traffic and I was in the middle of the street. Looking up here was a huge globe of a full moon appearing as if it sat in the middle of the road at the far end of the street, beautifully framed by the street-side trees on either side – what a magnificent sight. I think these two very differing pieces do go together. Not in any major religious way, but as recognition that there is more to life than we understand and that where there is an end, there can be renewal, beauty, and beginnings. On my return part of my walk I stopped and turned at the very same spot, the moon had shifted and where there had been a gorgeous view was a only a dark void. A bit wistful I set for home, certain that on another evening on Burton Woods I’ll see a full, or if I am lucky, a brand new moon.

This week I was a political prisoner – at least for forty minutes. After a 10-hour day I was eager to head on out. My office is on a short curving road maybe a half mile long. Reaching the end it was completely barricaded and manned by State Troopers. I asked if I could get through since I was heading home. No. I asked if, leaving at the other end I would be allowed onto the main road. No. I asked if I could leave under escort. No. “And why all this” I asked? A very important person is coming through. “Well”, I said, “that would be me, since I am as important a person to myself as I can think of – so, now can I leave?” No. Forty minutes later and 20 State cruisers, fifteen motorcycled police, five large, black, Suburban SUVs, two busses carrying President Bush – his entourage and the press, and finally some more police zipped on by; only then did I set out for home and the proverbial now ‘dry meatloaf’. I saw some photos this week. Seeing these I can consider myself fortunate that, while I was held prisoner, I did not have to strip naked and form a pyramid with my fellow co-workers. I am not so sure I even want to vote after this.

Marcia and I were entertainment fiends this week. Thursday night we used the last of our Symphony series ticked and saw an amazing performance. Pianist Yefim Bronfman gave arguably the best playing I have ever heard, Prokofiev’s astoundingly difficult Piano Concerto No. 2 in G Minor. At one point I thought he was about to have a heart attack so punishing is this work. I had not heard this symphony before, but for the piano it saw it described as “starting as a difficult and then becoming progressively more difficult and more fiendish as it goes along”. Pounding with what “appeared to be twenty fingers” all of us leapt to our feet cheering when he finished. Our local classical PBS radio station – WGUC 90.9FM – is re-playing the performance at 7:30 PM on May 30th. Should you tune in live or on streaming audio listen to a very loud “Bravo” bellowed at the end – that would be me.

Last night Marcia got a pair of seats at our new Great American Ballpark. Had a great time watching our Reds lose to the Barry Bonds machine, aka the San Francisco Giants from five rows behind third base. We came to the realization that in effect they could give all the tickets away for free and still make money – on the food concessions. Even with all my griping about our tax increases caused for the funding of this new edifice, I must admit that it is one nice facility. We had a super time and fun too.

Other than that, Adrianne cannot stand it any longer. She is absolutely on Pins and Needles. Last Monday she was e-mailed by the Peace Corps that her information packet and invitation had been mailed the day before. Along with the invitation is also information on where she will be volunteering her service for the next two years. As of yesterday the packet had not arrived. We find that she is getting a little “terse” as we talk with her – possibly from racing home everyday at three o’clock to meet up with her mailman (sorry, mailperson for you in the PC crowd). Fingers crossed for this afternoon’s mail delivery kiddo.

Ok, that’s enough. Have a great week.



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