Which Reminds Me

Why should I trouble myself with thoughts of the succession of the British throne? I am neither Stewart nor Tudor, so this is not my problem. Queen Elizabeth II herself was heard reminding everyone that she herself is a descendant of Catherine of Aragon, the daughter of the Spanish monarchs Ferdinand and Isabella, which seems to consolidate her ancestral and hereditary power. So this is a point that makes it unnecessary to further discuss the events of the 16th century, although we can perhaps sort of see how Elizabeth I, the Tudor Queen, might have deemed it necessary to cut off the head of her half-sister Queen 'Bloody' Mary in order to stabilize England's political situation at the time. I can't say that Elizabeth was wrong on that point given the horrible record of Mary, and she also presided over the destruction of the Spanish Armada, but then again I am not Roman Catholic. We here in America find it hard to understand the politics of the Catholic Stricklands who stayed in England and were possibly among Catholic Mary's hosts in another era. Which perhaps explains why we don't care to dialogue further with the Baron and his murderous Maltese brood. It just doesn't matter that much to me in my daily life what happens over there. It's just all out of my control and I really don't have the resources to ponder such imponderable matters. I don't have the weapons to fight off these attacks from the trashy Turner Tramps and their D. Trapping associates of Malta and/or Italy. It just doesn't matter what the Turner Tramps say about anything. I have to cut off the filibustering Turner Tramps to spare myself some stupid arguments that don't really matter. Why are these people that afraid of my potential success? You are just too ridiculous.

Which Reminds Me

You are too late, much much too late, but you already knew that. Who knows what Utopian paradise might have resulted if only the Protestant division had not occurred? Yes, I know that is what you are thinking about. You Roman Catholics think only of reattaching Henry VIII to his Catherine, as if 500 years later we could go back and rewrite history. Sorry but the events of history are what they are and Sir Thomas More's head remains unattached to his body, the last I heard. I haven't heard you make any relevant points as to how to reattach Thomas' empty head.

Which Reminds Me

Where is it written in the law books, this legal requirement that I must pay for the crimes that may or may not have been committed by wonton hoe Stephanie? Although she was standing nearby me in the classroom, actually sort of behind my back, as she delivered her tortured confession of having done something that she didn't previously know was wrong, Stephanie's ignorance of the law is no excuse for her. And as for myself, I do not wish to take the Stephanie dog by the ears and get myself involved in that. Stephanie has so many horrible problems that do not belong to me, and I would like to keep it that way.

Which Reminds Me

More Factoid No. 1: Thomas More was born on Milk Street.

Even so, the Milky Way More code will not help you clueless little dwarves in this McClellan quest of yours. You just can never fill the shoes of the ancient ancestors who were all very tall, well over six feet, closer to seven feet in some cases. Grandpa McClellan was 6'2" and he was considered relatively short by comparison to the ancients.

Which Reminds Me

It is common knowledge that Danny's mother was Swedish, which perhaps explains why he is working in league with those evil Communist blondie witches. Well, at least he has a wife and child to love him, because otherwise he would not have anyone available to encourage his strange delusions of grandeur. He is just a regular working class guy who maybe drives a truck or something. I really wouldn't know anything about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I know, you really cannot tell just by looking at superficial appearances that Danny Boy is actually just another piece of boring Swedish tinsel. You cannot really see the tree for all that Swedish glitter, but what do I know? I am just completely bored of seeing that everywhere.

Which Reminds Me

How do I politely tell the dreary bores of Michigan that I do not want them in my life? What do I care about the frozen butts of Wisconsin? You are nothing to me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I know, it is hard to imagine what reasonable dialogue we could possibly have with that vicious little counterfeiter Joy Butthead. Oh, was she or someone from Finland, not really the U.K.? Does that somehow explain the proliferation of dorsal fin sightings along the coasts of the U.S.? We cannot see the forest for the trees in the current scheme of things, needless to say, and Joy is not helping matters.

Which Reminds Me

One day during high school I was in the living room of my house doing my homework or reading something and my sister came in and was saying all these insulting ditties, and Na na na na na na, and so forth. And then she challenged me to write a better insulting ditty, and so I sat down at the dining room table and wrote an insulting ditty, and then she was upset because mine was better, more well written, than hers. Ok, so I did that, but she asked for it. I was just playing along with her game and then I am the only one punished for what she started.

Which Reminds Me

"Laughter the Best Medicine," is the name of a column in the monthly magazine "Reader's Digest," from which Grandma Calkins loved to read excerpts aloud to anyone within earshot. In her bookshelf she had every copy of "Reader's Digest" magazine starting from 1939, so there is a veritable treasure chest of good humor if you are so inclined. Of course, that is good humor presented for mass consumption, not to be confused with the crude and vulgar bad humor dispensed by the primitive peoples that does not deserve mass publication. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I know, it is unfortunate that my grandmother allied herself with those horrible Spanish turd people, a short-term financial expedient that has some disastrous consequences for her grandchildren, especially me. Yes, Ok, so you made your point. I get that. But even so, not knowing how the deal is constructed, I am not yet sure how to throw the Spanish turd people away, which is where I would put them if I had my way. They seem to have forgotten their places and I don't seem to have a handle on that. Unfortunately.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, you have liked to remind us that Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) was the father of about 20 children with his two wives, many of whom survived to become accomplished musicians in their own right. He wrote many beautiful masterpieces of music and yet he produced a singular lack of wording, leaving little or no space for an explanation of how this could be so. The pictures may be helpful for reeducating the mostly illiterate population, but who is going to write the words? That is what you were saying. I heard that.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, when I was working as a reporter, my job was mostly to report what other people were saying and thinking and doing in a disinterested and impersonal way. To fight these battles of other people in a personal crusader way, which was at times urged and pushed upon me, seemed inappropriate, although certainly matters of justice, law and order are universally evident generally speaking. Some stories can only be told in a first-person way, but that was not my job. My job was to tell it in a third-person way.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do think that it is time to break the chains that supposedly bind us to snarky little monsters coincidentally named David and Robert, no relation to me. I belong to Jesus now, so the codings of those other little hereditary brats are a rather grievous annoyance but not really the final words of Jesus for me and my life. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

I vaguely remember that many years ago I went bowling with some people from the youth group, and Dave Hoskins was there and he was talking about how he likes the music of Bruce Springsteen, especially that song "Born to Run." By the way, "Made in the USA," is another Springsteen song. And then later when I saw Dave somewhere else he said to me, remember, Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run, as if that were his code for me, or else my code for him. However, I actually don't think that Dave is a potential candidate for elective office. Too much baggage. Needless to say more about the other possible meanings that we could attribute to Dave through that. 

Which Reminds Me

And what dialogue could I possibly have with the dreary Britannical Turncoat bimbos of South Africa? You probably have mistaken me for that hideous Britannical dog Stephanie. Arf! Arf! Your sole source of information is probably that blithering idiot Fred and his stupid Italian second wife who leaks wrong information all over the place, or so we hear. So?

Which Reminds Me

I do appreciate Dr. Kelly finally signing off on my journalism thesis project after having provided so many corrections that I rewrote the whole thing before finally concluding my journalism degree. Even so, I really don't know very much about him in a personal way. There were a couple of nice student meetings at their house in Chesapeake where we met his wife and they also have a daughter. But beyond that I really cannot comment further. There is no reason to have to post online my notes of class lectures. That would be, I don't know, quite a few lectures and, yes, he has his particular opinions about things which are expressed in those heated TV discussions of which I heard only something obliquely, not really enough details to say what I might think about that one way or another.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am no fan of hair spray. My mother tried to train me that way but it was useless to do that when the difference is very little, the chemicals annoying, and anyway nobody seems to care what I look like except maybe my parents.

Which Reminds Me

There is a time for everything under the sun, but this is not a day to have the cattle in here pooping all over the carpet. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

I am reluctant to speculate on the political displays of various high school associates as I have no idea what their opinions might be of Nixon and various other U.S. presidents. I never really discussed this matter of presidential preferences with them so there is nothing that I can say as to that point. What am I, the punching bag for every political opinion that does not suit the fat ugly hogs of Iowa? I can't keep track of all these people.

Which Reminds Me

During our first term in El Salvador, our maid's name was Betty. (Coincidentally, my mother's name is also Betty.) One day she had received a love letter from some guy down the street. She read it aloud to us without explaining what it was. The way she read it, I am sitting there thinking that this is a letter that someone wrote to me and then at the end she explains that it is for her. Ok, fine. Whatever. Anyway, I have no faith in some guy down the street really caring about me. It is all just a lie.

Which Reminds Me

My high school graduation party was held at the Bueno house, which was nice. Several people were there. One of my gifts was a wooden box in which I was told I might place the love letters that I might receive in the future. As it turns out I have not received any love letters, but thanks, I probably still have the box stored away somewhere.

Which Reminds Me

Who are these nasty rich people who imagine themselves my slave masters? It seems to fall as my sad duty to formally charge those stupid magazine buttheads to the full extent of the law, whenever I can figure out how to get out of this pit.

Which Reminds Me

Ok, so I stand corrected. He was either Samuel J. Longwell (1886-1954), son of William, and Caila Fausett (1891-1953) was his wife and also the mother of his two or three children. Not to be confused with Samuel R. Longwell, born 1937 in San Francisco. Or else he was Samuel J. Longwell (1886-1954), son of Frank. Ok, so I am confused. Even so it is hard for me to understand why I should feel sorry for his daughter Yula of Iowa when I am not aware that these people exist. I really don't see the connection or why I should care about that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I know, if only they would turn off the Faucet and/or Fawcett. I only learned about Fawcett quite recently after noticing a pack of Hollywood bimbos crowing and yodeling a pack of nonsense, all over my head of course. Oh, was Mr. Longwood the backstabbing traitor who ran away with the money? And Mrs. Fawcett was his mother. Thus the Iowa connection. And this all happened when? In about 1950. So obviously this pack of rubbish is not worth recalling to mind. There is nothing in it for me, obviously. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, did I mention that I was harassed throughout childhood with bad name jokes? Yes, well, I don't think about that every day but if you ask me I will tell you that sometimes people gratuitously harassed me with the name of Candy Cane, even though that is not my name. People cannot spell my last name, they sometimes throw in a "u" that does not belong there, so I always have to spell it out, plus I have an "i" at the end of my first name, not a "y." So I might have mentioned that to someone although I cannot remember who. 

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, I did think that Miss Marken was a good in terms of being an English teacher in 9th and also 10th grade, but there are some personal issues that I really would not want to discuss with her in terms of politics. I have no idea what her political agenda ultimately might be but high school is over now. There is no reason to have to relive the miseries of high school now, after all this time.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, someone has reminded me that at one time there was a high school classmate of mine whose name was Libby. So that does that make her a women's Libber? The thought had not crossed my mind until now, although come to think of it she does hog the airwaves too much. And you expect me to visit you in New York to be further harassed with all these bad name jokes? Was your name Good or Bad? Or else perhaps you lost your mind. That is all I can figure.

Which Reminds Me

It always strikes me as very odd that persons of whose existence I am not aware, or barely aware, should be so furiously accusing me of slamming them. I actually didn't say very much about them so it is hard for me to see how that twister got started.

Which Reminds Me

I am quite certain that I am not remembering accurately what Miss Marken actually said about Gloria Steinem and NOW and the ERA. It was a sort of jumble of a slightly satirical nature possibly containing those elements although it is very hard to explain Miss Marken at all, much less reconstruct her exact wordings. I mostly found her little political asides somewhat interesting although she had some particular agenda points that I don't necessarily understand what she meant by that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, what sort of uncultured social clod does not stand for Handel's "Hallelujah" chorus?  But I cannot say for sure whether Jamaican Debi stood or not because I wasn't sitting next to her. Whether or not she ought to be there, that is not my problem. You will have only yourself to blame if the ship starts to drift off course, because, anyway, reproductive technology is only one part of the story, not really the whole story.

Which Reminds Me

And what further dialogue could I possibly have with this nasty vicious little peasant hoe, Jeannie Due Butthead? I heard her casting false and slanderous aspersion upon me. She has two children so we must be kind for the children's sake. But even so, I don't need her stupid Dan headaches. The thought never crossed my mind. She married him so she can keep him. She had better take care of Dan because I certainly won't be taking her lousy job. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, now I remember, I had almost forgotten about the Duvals. It looks like I forgot to tell Jeannie Duval that it really bothers me that way her stupid husband Dan is following me around all over the place. I really don't like going out with the youth group after church and finding this married man, who happens to be the assistant pastor, sitting next to me at the restaurant, asking me all these personal questions. Where is his wife? Shouldn't she be her also? But I have no patience for hostile confrontations. So I will move away and shrug off and/or dump this stupid Duval trap in the garbage can because, as I said, I have no patience for these boring people. Seriously, I should not be giving the Duvals any further opportunities to embarrass me.

Which Reminds Me

It might have been Miss Marken, our English teacher in 10th grade, who told us a story about Gloria Steinem, frustrated with not getting the ERA passed, burns parts of her apparel and throws herself into a swimming pool. Some political incident of the 1970s. Well, I cannot insert more nuances into Miss Marken's words than what she herself said, although perhaps her particular brand of sarcasm might fly over the heads of some of these Spanish people.

Which Reminds Me

Why are these crazy people crowing about NOW? I never had the slightest connection to NOW, don't know anything about it. Someone in high school said something in class about Gloria Steinem but I cannot recall the details of that. I think that it was passing comment about politics of the 1970s, the ERA amendment that never happened, but I wasn't paying attention to that.

Which Reminds Me

Ok, so Turncoat Ted sits up there in his ivory tower reigning terror on poor white people not even tangentially connected to Atlanta. O, hideous Turncoat Scarlett bimbo, why should I care about the halls of Atlanta? We once saw Six Flags over Atlanta but that was only one day that I ever spent there, only passing through. We were on our way to somewhere else. No reason to care about the dreary bores who prattle on so about the outlet shopping of Atlanta. Yes, we have good shopping here, too. So?

Which Reminds Me

During high school I remember that my little sister and a friend of hers played a silly prank on Lori Reese in sending her a fake love letter signed anonymously so that they could laugh at Lori's misguided reaction of being pursued by a non-existent Secret Lover, as if that were funny. Later, my mother made my sister go and apologize to Lori. As for me, I only heard about this when my mother told me. Oh, I didn't know that. And then more recently someone was trying to attach me to that prank, but, as I was saying, how many times do I have to repeat this story, I didn't know anything about that. I wasn't a part of that. My sister had some friend working with her on that but I cannot remember who that was. My sister is a very accomplished prankster but I do not enjoy that, much less remember all the details of her many boasted pranks. Strange how she gets away with all these pranks and I cannot even breathe without all these people screaming in my face. Weird.

Which Reminds Me

Back in college days, I vaguely recall seeing the faces of Bill Kelly and Joy Bolton around campus but I cannot remember one thing about them, just that they seemed to be prominent in the cliquey circles of which I was not a part.

Which Reminds Me

When I was doing my genealogy, I noticed that someone named Candice Peebles had already covered a lot of the same ground so that makes it a little bit easier. The Peebles are only tangentially related because they have the Burreys. We are descended from Rhoda Burrey whereas they are descended from a different Burrey, not to be confused with Burrows. They might be also descendants of Mary Ann Carr. Carr and her husband, Jacob Burrey, had 11 children, several of whom lived to adulthood, so 200 years later that could be quite a few people to track down, although I don't recommend contacting people on genealogy charts for reasons other than research.

Which Reminds Me

It is interesting to note, coincidentally, that Mary Ann Carr (1821-1881) was one of our ancestors. She was Prussian. It is something of a mystery how she managed to escape her tyrannical parents in Prussia and land in America where she married Jacob Burrey. Her name appears in genealogy charts but beyond that I have nothing to add.

Which Reminds Me

The only other thing that I can remember about David is that he is a big fan of Bruce Springsteen, perhaps because he was "Born to Run."

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I suppose that if you were a certified car mechanic, I might want to consult with you regards to my serious car problems. But just to chattify endlessly on the merits of various car parts would seem to me somewhat boring, an unnecessary and excessive expenditure of energies that might be better disposed elsewhere. You seem to have this car parts narrative endlessly looping in your brain, and yet you have not so much as applied to car mechanic school, thus you cannot be trusted with any car of mine.

Which Reminds Me

I know, Dave is such an annoying person, such a nuisance, such an embarrassment to all concerned. But what can I say or do about that? I only worked alongside him for about two weeks one summer many years ago in a warehouse, because his father, president of the company, ordered us to work him into our schedule. So that is all there is here to say about Dave. For the scoop on his various affairs, whether Appalachian or Russian, you will need to find other sources. I really don't know anything else about them. There are many rumors about Russia but nothing that I could quote in so many words without fear of reprisals, thus getting myself hit back ten times harder by those nasty power people. So?

Which Reminds Me

Many years ago when I was working in California, I remember that Mark Carpenter seemed to be intimately acquainted with all the details of the discussions involved by our boss in the development of newsletters. The newsletter people would come to the office to discuss these publications, or would call on the phone, and Mark always seemed to be well informed about the details of these discussions. One of their newsletters talked in alarming tones about the impending invasion by Mexico. I cannot recall now the details of that but the way it was explained by Mark, there seemed to be something scary about that.

Which Reminds Me

I might be remembering that in high school someone gave an oral book report on Solzhenitsyn's "Gulag Archipelago," although I cannot remember who that was or ever reading that book myself. Sounded sort of depressing. But the author escaped to New England and wrote about Siberia from there for about 20 years in exile, later returning to Russia as a hero. I did read another book by an escaped KGB agent but I cannot remember the title or author, just that he seemed to lack any type of morals, just a hired killer. So what does Russia really stand for? I really don't see the point of going there unless we have something better to tell the world, than just to sink into the cesspool of soulless crazy stupidities, all for the sake of money. If you cannot walk the walk and talk the talk, then you would just be adding complications to the problem. So just don't go there.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely recall Dave boasting of his IQ score near 160, which he knows because he and a friend  broke into his high school offices. So there is an oxymoron. What a dumb way to promote yourself. So smart your score rolled back around to zero.

Which Reminds Me

It does seem strangely coincidental that Paul Bettex would send his resignation letter to the various Booth family members, although we are not sure what was contained in the letter or where it might be filed away. But if your last name is, let's say, Tucker, we cannot assume that you are a descendant or somehow connected to the Salvation Army, even though one of General Booth's daughters, Emma, married Mr. Frederick Tucker and they had several children whose descendants, it is probably safe to say, might be living somewhere on the planet even now. Does that make Kathy your mother? As children we were often called on to sing "Onward Christian Soldiers," and yet I do not think that we were ever employees of the Salvation Army that we should need to write you a letter to discuss something. So what is your question?

And if Paul Bettex should happen to be recommended for canonization as a saint, would you have a problem with that? I am really not a Roman Catholic so that is not my problem, although Bettex is probably honored already as a martyr even without a plaque to hang on the wall. But either way I don't really see the need for an argument.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember the name of Joy Bolton but I cannot seem to remember one thing about her. Who was she? Was she a college classmate at SCC? I have no idea. Some things blur together in the mind after so many years.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I have not forgotten. Who were you, that rude person who sent me a message? You were comparing me to Rodney Dangerfield, he who gets "no respect." You were mocking me because I will not gain your respect if I do not fit your twin boxes: health care professional and/or certified teacher. No, I suppose you could say that I ticked that other box, "None of the above." But that, too, was your wording. You mock my lack of verbal opportunities. I am supposed to just sit here and let you write your lousy book over my head. Except that this is my life and I don't quite see it that way. If this disqualifies me from socializing with you, so much the better. I cannot have you running my life. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do rather like Debbie Boone's rendition of that Bob Dylan song, "Ring dem Bells," although I am not sure whether the words mean very much. I tend to think that such an obscure poem could be open, or rather vulnerable or susceptible to multiple interpretations, thus leading ultimately to a chaotic confusion of contradictory impressions. But if you must insist on covering a Bob Dylan song, I suppose that at least that is one of the few songs of his that is singable, sort of.

Which Reminds Me

I must admit that I do not share this fascination of yours with the health care professions. If I had to choose a vocation, it certainly NOT be anything medical. I do not feel myself under any obligation to enter the nursing and/or medical doctor profession, needless to say, although certainly the medical and/or health care profession is a noble one, and well remunerated, for those who are so called. I have no idea why all these girls are so interested in limiting themselves to a pathetically boring career of nurse and/or teacher. I had thought that this was a free country where our choice of occupation was not limited to these two boxes, but I don't seem to know anything. Everything I would rather do is NOT NOT NOT available or does NOT pay well. If I can't be a teacher, and not interested in health care, what can I do?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that when I was in maybe 8th grade at the MK school, after lunch our teacher Mrs. Richardson would have story time, in which she would read aloud to us a chapter from a book. One of the books she read to us was a novel, although I cannot remember the title of it, or maybe there was a true story behind it, about some people who came to Canada from Russia and found Christianity. The heroine, who might have been Jewish or not, I don't remember very much about this book, when in her youth living back in Russia, or maybe Eastern Europe, worked as a maid in the very large house of very wealthy people, often on her hands and knees scrubbing the fancy flooring. Eventually she escapes to America where she finds true love. Also, another character in the book was a Jewish man who is caught in a storm, while touring the many islands of the St. Lawrence River, and finds God. Whether it was the storm or the still small voice, I don't remember. Our teacher, Mrs. Richardson, was Canadian so sometimes she reminds us that some things are not a matter of nationality. Anyway, I think that all of us who come to America were escaping something in Europe, if only a lack of new opportunities. No need for more recent immigrants to imagine that earlier American pioneers were not also hard-working people just doing their jobs.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is true that I can send the Whitaker twins home to Canada or Javy home to Mexico, thus interrupting your patriotic leanings. They have their places but even so there is nothing that I need to discuss with them, especially not now.

Which Reminds Me

I sometimes think that I hear our journalism teacher, Michelle Morris, chattering in the stratosphere. Even so, I do not wish to be reminded of the many mistakes that we made in regards to Caroline, as if she should be allowed to portray herself as a martyr persecuted by white girls. What were we thinking?

Which Reminds Me

Of course we all know that politicians and/or persons intent on building political careers for themselves are notoriously untrustworthy and will do whatever, even stab you in the back later, for the sake of political convenience, because of course their own political career maneuverings supersede any personal preference that you might have. Thus, there is no reason to discuss anything of a personal nature with politicians and/or political people. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely recall during high school that I at one time was in the office of the high school guidance counselor because it was a requirement to go there at least once to discuss my college plans, something about the need for submitting my application to colleges. So that was interesting. Beyond that I really don't remember one thing about her, just that she was doing her job, understandably. 

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, I never had the slightest connection to the Kennedy bootleggers that I should be required to engage in dialogue with them. Enough said. Officially no comment. zzzzzzzzz....

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, why does Carol choose such a strange way to claim for herself a future in electoral politics? I have no idea why I should care about Carol's future as elect or non-elect. Whatever. I don't recall hearing of her ever converting to Presbyterianism that I should be made aware of such an Elect non-occurrence. I saw her picture online but even so this is a matter of no concern to me. So?

Which Reminds Me

I once spent the night in Las Vegas, at a Motel Six, with my family, my parents and sister. I don't remember why we were there, just driving through town on the way to somewhere else. We were surprised to see slot machines everywhere, even at the Motel 6 near the soda machine or laundry room, and in the morning we stopped at a hotel in the morning where we saw persons there at an early hour already working the slot machines. So that was interesting.

Which Reminds Me

What? Am I a goddess, that I should be expected to fight the personal battles of these foul-mouthed Italian mafia con artists? Pray to Jesus and maybe he will hear you and help you with that. Or else appeal to your Italian mafia mother and maybe she will cast a spell and make white girl disappear, even though white girl is not the person who said that and actually not aware of the reasoning that went into the comment that was heard by various people. There seemed to be some thought that went into that but I can't quite remember who said that or when that was. Thus, I will refer all questions about them to the State Department who will tell you who your friends and enemies really are, in case you forgot.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do remember hearing someone say that about the twins. Who said that about the twins? I can't quite remember who said that, and then there is all this background noise in the meantime that the name of the person who actually said that escapes me, I am so distracted by all this nonsense.

Which Reminds Me

I don't really know very much about Chilean literature, although I have heard the names of Pablo Neruda and Gabriela Mistral. In El Salvador we lived near Calle Gabriela Mistral, but there are about 20 countries in Latin America, each with their own unique literature portfolios, so Chile is not exhaustively studied by high school students there. You were suggesting that I make little spelling mud pies from various aspects of Chilean literature using the names of some high school classmates, starting with "la loca de la Guardia," Alvaro Jara, Maité Allamand, Gallicismos, Maria Luisa Bombal, What is said in Mexico, etc. etc. Except that such nonsense would never be coming from me. It just wouldn't be appropriate for that to be coming from me, a U.S. citizen who is not so intimately acquainted with these Spanish affairs. You probably already know who said that anyway so I really shouldn't have to explain that.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it looks like you will never get out of Foochow. You may never even get that you are stuck in Foochow, dismantled as it was after WWII, its buildings now occupied by the Chinese Community Party. But aren't the people what constituted the church? Some of them may have escaped to the United States and now live somewhere nearby. But the other people who remained in China are no less Christians who Jesus cares about. So we cannot just draw some artificial line at Foochow. Even though I don't see Foochow on my historical itinerary, I might have never stopped there for even a day to say hello, and yet Foochow matters also.