no finer way to honor this hero
“the vote is the most powerful nonviolent tool we have.”
-john lewis
—
image credit: michigan theatre, ann arbor, michigan, usa
a sidewalk homage to success
as the first spaceX crew dragon spacecraft “Endeavour” with a human crew
returns american nasa astronauts and best friends, bob and doug, to earth
—
“i don’t know what you could say about a day in which you have seen four beautiful sunsets.”
– john glenn, american astronaut
—
photo credit: nasa.gov (Robert Behnken and Douglas Hurley- astronauts)
when in london many years ago
i happened upon these two in a park
struck by the natural warmth between them
i took this picture without their knowing
hoping i could somehow capture
the closeness
the easy comfort
between them
in that moment in time
it was simply impossible to do so
but every time i look at this
it makes me feel that warmth again
just for a moment.
—
“there is a certain phase in the life of the aged
when the warmth of the heart seems to increase in direct proportion with the years.”
-john phillips marquand
The Bloodiest Sunday
Bloody Sunday was a cruel incident that occurred on March 7, 1965 in Selma, Alabama. Six hundred orderly protesters were ready to march to Selma on a Sunday to support the Voting Rights Movement. They were led by John Lewis, SNCC, and SCLC activists. All six hundred of them crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge, but were blocked by Alabama State Troopers. The police commanded them to turn around, but the protesters refused. The police say ‘they had no choice’ other than to start shooting teargas into the crowd, and beating the non-violent protesters. Sadly, they hospitalized over sixty people. To this day, Lewis still has a visible scar on his forehead from Bloody Sunday. This week, I watched as you made one final trip over that bridge, in your casket, with Alabama State Troopers saluting you, and people holding you in their hearts for all you did for them. You will always be remembered as a brave and compassionate leader who truly led by example.
—
RIP, John Lewis, thank you for always getting in the way, and showing us how it’s done.
—
“you must be bold, brave, and courageous and find a way… to get in the way.”
-john lewis
aftermath of our afternoon trip down the river – 2020 style
—
what started out as a promising enterprise
full of air and up on top
waylaid by the first set of cascades
day’s lazy dreams dashed against the rocks
so quickly deflated
yet just as suddenly
floated back up
found a way
after all
not as planned
this will always be remembered as the year that was
for so many reasons
that taught us how to make it to the end
safety vests strapped on and fingers crossed
even if we had to body surf our way through it
or borrow a raft now and then.
—
“there is even rhythm in being empty.”
-miyamoto musashi
Fried Beer- a crispy creation that lets you bite into your brew.
You receive a plate of fried, ravioli-shaped dough with a dark filling. You take a bite expecting meat and are met with the flavor of warm, rich stout. Welcome to the world of fried beer.
Fried beer is the brainchild of Mark Zable, who debuted his creation at the Texas State Fair in 2010 and won that year’s Most Creative award (an honor also bestowed tofried Coke in 2006). Even for those who might be skeptical of the culinary appeal, one has to admire the logistics of deep-frying a liquid. It would be easy to simply fry a beer-based batter, but fried beer keeps the brew—Guinness, to be specific—intact while frying the pretzel dough around it. This is no easy task. It took Zable three years to figure it out. Although he won’t reveal the exact recipe, speed is key. Each nugget of beer-filled dough should be deep-fried for no more than 20 seconds.
And just how does it taste? Zable says, “It tastes like you took a bite of hot pretzel dough and then took a drink of beer.”
Have your ID handy. You must be 21 or older to enjoy fried beer.
—
“food is vital, but also associated with enjoyment. ”
—
credits: David Berkowitz, Gastro Obscura
grandie j heads out
mohawk helmet on
backpack filled
with pokemon cards, water, hope
off on his bike to meet friends
at their ‘secret fort’
in the neighborhood.
after he makes his grand exit
grandie b, left behind, shares –
“we all have the same secret fort, but no one knows it.”
—
“well i know the secret places. and the nests in hedge and tree;
at what doors are friendly faces, in what hearts are thoughts of me.”
-henry wadsworth longfellow