Pirate Twins, 4, again “Learning to Fly”

It’s nice to be able to rely on family. Humans in the West are so cut off from one another; I’ve talked with otherwise genius doctors who could not name their grandparents. Atomized. Adrift. Almost by design.

There was once a pharmacist who I, politely, made an example of. This was years ago, when ancestry.com was still pretty much free. I started in 17th Century England and clicked from one name to another, him watching next to me. Click, click, click. “And here,” I concluded, “is fifteen-year-old me standing next to my mother’s mother.”

Almost four hundred years of family. This clever guy could not fathom it. I encouraged him to look into his family but I don’t think anything came of it. Sad. We should not be alone.

That’s enough talking; I’m still moody. Let’s see what Georgie can do.

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Pirate Twins, 1, again.

I admit is a kind of retread. That is, a story I’ve explored before. So, yes, is a Lenten cheat.

Once upon a time, I had a writing experiment. About five years ago. It was based upon two songs I’ll address in the next post. For those of a certain age, it’s obvious. I first thought it was about Machines. I was wrong.

The original form was muddled. I’m trying to tighten this up as something very, very, odd for me:

Allegory. Allegory of the Cold War in Europe.

Continue reading “Pirate Twins, 1, again.”