No Inspiration
Bother. What's a pondering pig without inspiration? I should just go out and rummage in the trash for offal. I want to continue the chronicles of the Baby Beatniks. I have ideas but I can't get started. I just look out the window.
I want to write more about Rebel Without A Cause. I finally saw it again the other night and I have some further things to say. Instead I read the junk mail.
My Patrushka just phoned me in tears from the San Francisco Airport. She got stopped in security, her luggage torn apart, accused of being a terrorist, alarm bells going off, the cop told her not to give him any lip. The reason? Handcream in her suitcase and no permanent address. Handcream has glycerine in it which is a component of explosives and no permanent address is a clear indication of being a bad person. Can we help it if we are gypsy vagrants? Can she help it if she married a beatnik pig? I've been gone so long I don't where home is anymore.
I just want my Patrushka home safe. And I can't think about anything else.
Labels: Won't Fit In Box
posted by Christopher Newton at 9:05 AM
14 Comments:
Wow, I sure hope she makes it home soon - if they are stopping every woman who carries handcream with glycerin in it it's a wonder any planes ever take off...I'm sure when she returns you'll feel very inspired again...loved ones are the best inspiration =)
The terror-riddled world we live in is a sad place for the gypsy. It has always been that way. The Irish travellers too. Spirited people with no permanent address must be up to something no good. Otherwise, they'd have a permanent address so the man can keep a watchful eye on them and make sure they aren't a threat. Control through fear, that's what it is.
It saddens and sickens me that control freaks in this land run by oil oligarchs deem it necessary to hassle and harrangue the obviously honest and decent people while they let the likes of Haliburton run roughshod over the whole non-bid contract world.
I'd like to blame Nixon, but that would be too easy. Besides, if Nixon were still with us, they'd probably hassle and harrangue him too.
Take comfort, Mr. Pig. Your beloved will be home soon and the world will be a little better than it is righ now.
I'm praying now, knowing Patrushka is always in the loving arms of our heavenly Father, protected and delivered from harm. God is everywhere present, always, and is a "ready help in need" for those who honor his invisible presence. And God is with you too, Ol' Walrus, calming your thoughts and freeing you from anxiety.
Jesus had some words of council for his followers which are to be recalled when we're confronted with the darker side of life: "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To him who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from him who takes away your cloak [jar of handcream!] do not withhold your coat [love] as well" (Luke 6:27-29).
Blessings are at your call, Bro'.
leonard sadorf said...
and Spoke agrees!
It sux when the "protectors" become "predators" as it were. You poor buggers are hostages in your own country! Don't let the bastards get you down.
I'm praying for your love.
Poor, dear Trish. And, poor, dear you. Hope all comes out alright. Take it easy. ~ Carol
The kid's home and all is well at the Pondering Pig's Pad. Thanks everybody for your prayers and kind words and concern. You are collectively and individually the best! As Billie Holiday once said, "Ooh ooh ooh, what a little blogging can do!" Without the blog I never would met have you guys!
((((((pondering pig and family)))))
big group hug
That wasn't Billie Holiday. I think it was Cab Calloway or maybe Cal Worthington?
So glad she's back safely =)
So glad that you two are reunited. I agree with Peggi - all us women are at risk if they're singling out skin moisturizers. But I bet it was the "no fixed abode" part that they were flexing muscle over. What does that say for New Orleans refugees? For anyone in transition? Patruska is the least threatening person I know. Get a grip NSA.
Carioca
Ok, ok. Enough of this. You been romantic and smoochy long enough. We all know she's back and we're glad for y'all. Now it's time to get back to the business at hand, whatever that is. On to bigger things.
Incidentally, Patrushka, we've been watching out for the old guy while you've been away. Aside from a Sunday night foray to a TGIF in Jersey, he's been a good boy.
Brother Gary was the sanest and most spiritual while Spoke and I, it would seem, tended to chase bourgeois rabbits around the sty with proletarian glee rather than be of any particular solace. Maybe we kept his mind off the blues? Everyone else was kind and gentle.
Anyways, all was quiet until those pesky woodpeckers (we thought they were grackles)tried to take over Bean farm. The beasts promised all kinds of pork-barrel legislation (pun intended). So, we saddled up the palominos and headed out to help Mr. Pig out. Ever the porcine prince and Knight errant, your dear pig had the woodpeckers (we thought they were grackles)routed and on the next flight to Pacoima faster than Jinx could say "John Quincy Woodpecker".
Well I'm glad to report that not all TSA agents are as rude and power hungry as the one you had to deal with. I was nervous after hearing your story, but yesterday, as I went through security in Denver, the TSA agent who checked me through the metal detector was probably the friendliest one I've ever come across (most in my travels have been neutral- neither mean nor friendly). Even though the security line was from here to Kalamazoo, in the amount of time that it took me to be checked, the gate guard commented on my Scotland T-shirt, asked if I'd been there,laughed, smiled, and told me an anecdote about "the time his aunt went on an archeological dig at a plague site in Scotland but wasn't allowed to tell any person in Scotland where she'd been or what she'd been doing because of the superstition the Scottish folk in the area have about the plague. Isn't that something? Would you have ever guessed?" How he managed to tell me it all in the 30 seconds that I was going through the gate I don't know, but he certainly wasn't on a power trip, and seemed to be making the best of a tedious job! Oh, and fortunately, my glycerin containing handcreme didn't set off any alarms. It seems as if you had the misfortune of running across the bad apple in the barrel.
Dear Pondering,
We in NJ have noted a significant drop in your blogging output--and we can only attribute that to P's return. Good for you; not so good for those who await future blogs with bated breath. Apparently, the blogger thrives in solitude.
Actually I tried to post early this morning - but Blogger was having a hissy fit. I have lots more stuff in the works. Keep checking!
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