What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In the blink of an eye and be gone from me,
Soft and sweet,
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me.
Played some good basketball for the first time in a long time yesterday; I didn't shoot particularly well, but I played two games without getting all huffy and puffy, won them both, and that feels good. I know I complain about Florida weather, but you can't complain when you're playing shirtless in warm wet February air. It rained in the morning yesterday, but the courts were dry, and the evening air was just right...the cool of rain to come and the warm of rain already here but leaving us made for the kind of Florida air I like.
Had dinner over at Nahum and Tony's last night, and ate some tasty stuff. Nahum made pork chops in some sort of cherry sauce, and there was chicken in a peanut-coconut milk concoction, and a nice crisp pilsner the name of which I've forgotten (from somewhere Central European), as well as Warcraft III and P. G. Wodehouse. Really, it can't get much better amongst friends, which is why Nahum had to introduce the dorian fruit from China. There's got to be adventure in friendship. How can a friend really be a friend if he's not The Friend Who Risks? Nahum claims that "dorian" is the fruit's Chinese name, but I'm not too sure...the description we were given of the fruit kind of mirrors Mr. Dorian Grey's person. Grey was beautiful on the outside but ugly in his insides; the dorian fruit was supposed to be ugly on the outside and kind of smelly, but good-tasting, on the inside. Alas...if only there'd been some truth to the good-tasting bit. It was a spiky fruit, and intimidating. And once Nahum had it cracked open, and peeled away some of the pith, you could see that the parts we were supposed to eat were the gelatinous liver-shaped things hanging like organs in the middle of a cracked-open cadaver, if only we would reach through the flesh of the white pith to get to them.
There really is nothing like eating something that tastes like mango/canteloupe gone bad, leaves an oniony aftertaste, and really does stink. Some of us supposed that hunger had driven mankind to discover the fruit, but others of us more realistically posited drunkenness.
That could flash on the screen
In the blink of an eye and be gone from me,
Soft and sweet,
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me.
Played some good basketball for the first time in a long time yesterday; I didn't shoot particularly well, but I played two games without getting all huffy and puffy, won them both, and that feels good. I know I complain about Florida weather, but you can't complain when you're playing shirtless in warm wet February air. It rained in the morning yesterday, but the courts were dry, and the evening air was just right...the cool of rain to come and the warm of rain already here but leaving us made for the kind of Florida air I like.
Had dinner over at Nahum and Tony's last night, and ate some tasty stuff. Nahum made pork chops in some sort of cherry sauce, and there was chicken in a peanut-coconut milk concoction, and a nice crisp pilsner the name of which I've forgotten (from somewhere Central European), as well as Warcraft III and P. G. Wodehouse. Really, it can't get much better amongst friends, which is why Nahum had to introduce the dorian fruit from China. There's got to be adventure in friendship. How can a friend really be a friend if he's not The Friend Who Risks? Nahum claims that "dorian" is the fruit's Chinese name, but I'm not too sure...the description we were given of the fruit kind of mirrors Mr. Dorian Grey's person. Grey was beautiful on the outside but ugly in his insides; the dorian fruit was supposed to be ugly on the outside and kind of smelly, but good-tasting, on the inside. Alas...if only there'd been some truth to the good-tasting bit. It was a spiky fruit, and intimidating. And once Nahum had it cracked open, and peeled away some of the pith, you could see that the parts we were supposed to eat were the gelatinous liver-shaped things hanging like organs in the middle of a cracked-open cadaver, if only we would reach through the flesh of the white pith to get to them.
There really is nothing like eating something that tastes like mango/canteloupe gone bad, leaves an oniony aftertaste, and really does stink. Some of us supposed that hunger had driven mankind to discover the fruit, but others of us more realistically posited drunkenness.
Comments
Post a Comment