I did venture out this Friday the 13th, although I avoided putting myself in the same room with anyone wearing a hockey mask.
Billy Collins buys his friend a drink-drink . . .
After the Funeral
by: Billy Collins
When you told me you needed a drink-drink
and not just a drink like a drink of water,
I steered you by the elbow into a corner bar,
which turned out to be a real bar-bar,
dim and nearly empty with little tables in the back
where we drank and agreed that the funeral
was a real funeral-funeral complete with a Mass,
incense, and tons of eulogies.
You know, I always considered Tom a real
friend-friend, you said, lifting your drink-drink
to your lips, and I agreed that Tom
was much more than just an ordinary friend.
We also concurred that Angela’s black dress
was elegant but not like elegant-elegant,
just elegant enough. And a few hours later
when the bartender brought yet another round
of whiskeys to our table in the corner
we recognized by his apron and his mighty girth
that he was more than just a bartender.
A true bartender-bartender was what he was
we decided, with a respectful clink-clink
of our drink-drinks, amber in a chink of afternoon light.
So I didn't experience any bad Friday the 13th luck-luck, just regular bad luck. I screened the film Shadowlands at the library today as part of a C. S. Lewis Holidays series. For some reason, I decided to set things up early and make sure all the equipment was working properly. When I inserted the brand new, just-out-of-the-package Blu-ray into the player, it didn't work. It froze and wouldn't play.
I quickly ascertained that Shadowlands is not streaming on any service. The best I could do was a pirated version uploaded on YouTube for free. So, I went to a good friend in the library's Tech Services Department. He examined the Blu-ray disk, saw that it was fingerprinted and scratched in one place. He pulled out a contraption that looked like a rejected prop from the original Star Trek series, and he buffed the disk.
Problem solved. Disaster averted. A large group of people showed up to watch the movie. That's good luck-luck.
Had dinner with my whole family tonight--pizza from Little Caesar's, mac & cheese from Domino's. Then I went home, put together music for this weekend's worship services, and headed out to a couple churches to practice.
Most of the churches where I play are already decked out in Christmas finery. (Except for the Catholics. That transformation happens after the Fourth Sunday of Advent.) At the Lutheran church this evening, I stopped to admire the decorations. A beautiful manger scene. Eight- or nine-foot tree. Greens and candles. An Advent wreath, of course.
I took some pictures, to look at if I started feeling particularly sad-sad later.
As I said earlier, I'm not a superstitious person. Yet, I wonder if I somehow did something wrong that brought on this affliction of darkness right now. I know that's the sadness talking, coming from a place not based on rational thought, but superstition and faith are not based on objectivity and observation. They're based on pure belief, regardless of verifiable truth. One (superstition) based on fear. One (faith) based on hope.
I'm not going to get all philosophical here. That would be boring-boring.
I just want to say that I choose hope over fear, lighting a candle each week to shine light into the dark corners of my life. Real light. Light-light that pushes away feelings of isolation and loneliness and despair.
Saint Marty is now ready for sleep-sleep.
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