Sunday, September 05, 2004

We'll Meet Again, Don't Know Where, Don't Know When...

... though no later than the first weekend in October, I should think. My wife and I are off on a visit to Scandinavia with her 93-year-old mother. I considered taking the laptop but it seemed to boil down to a choice between chaining the laptop to the toilet in the hotel room and keeping an eye on my mother-in-law or keeping an eye on the laptop and chaining my mother-in-law to the toilet. Only in the world of jokes, or among certain Republican first families, is this a difficult decision.

I may be able to buy occasional computer access and write from Europe, but vacation writing is pretty dull unless something unpleasant happens, in which case I doubt I'll feel like writing -- at the time. But, as Wordsworth said, poetry is "the spontaneous overflow of emotion recollected in tranquility."

That is a chained-to-the-toilet perspective somewhat tarted up to keep Coleridge interested. Good for everybody, not just poets.

So, I'll come back, I'll recollect, I'll write.

Until then, be well.

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