shamless regurgitation of romantic quotations

I just read a book, "Beneath A Marble Sky" which is written by a 30-something white dude from Colorado but told from the point of view of a 17th C. Mughal princess. It is a love story (2 or 3 love stories, actually) about the building of the Taj Mahal.

I really liked it; and I really appreciated the ability of John Shors (white dude mentioned above) to channel the range of emotion needed to realize the story. So...as a simple tribute to well-crafted romantic meditations:

"Love. Such a simple feeling, yet such a force of creation."

“Women, Arjumand, women are taught that there’s no strength in our tears. But why are tears powerless, if those tears lead to insight, or a sense of peace?”

“Thank you, my love, for making me feel so whole.”

“You made yourself.”

“Perhaps. But without you there is only me, and with you there is us.”

"Perhaps the Hindus are partly right, for I do think we lead many lives. Yet these lives aren’t separate, as they believe, but one. My lives were simple. I learned as a child. I explored as a girl. And I bled and loved as a woman. Now that I am old, I see many lives in my life. They’re as different as stones, and yet they are connected. When I look back on them I wonder sometimes if they were but dreams."

Stop Drop and Roll

(Here follows a short story that I wrote, about a video we once had to watch in elementary school.)

Stop.

The line of 2nd graders stops abruptly, as the teacher reaches a darkened doorway. Some children were not paying attention, and bump into the one in front of them. This week, they are practicing alphabetization by lining up in order by last name. Stephens, M. collides with Roach, S. Mothkovich, K. collides with Lillstrom, A., to whom she was talking anyway and Lillstrom, A. stubs her toe on the heel of Leupkes, J. The Becker cousins are at the front of the line which is more closely monitored by the teacher, so they do not collide.

The teacher notifies everyone to remain silent by raising a hand with two fingers sticking up, and the line of 2nd graders knows to acknowledge this by mimicking the gesture. They know, as they have been knowing since Kindergarten, to imagine a string connecting their hand and their bottom jaw. When you raise your hand, the string pulls your mouth shut.

Drop.

26 little bottoms sit on the floor, where the grades K-5 have already gathered, as well as the other .5 of grade 2 (Ms. Duellman's) of the gymnasium to watch a special presentation about Safety, In General. How To Avoid Getting Killed In A Tornado. How Not To Get Hit By Your Own Bus Driver. Maybe, How To Properly Check Halloween Candy (always, let Mom and Dad do it). No one knows yet what the topic will be, but it will be How Not To ______, or What To Do In Case ______.

In the anonymity of the crowded darkness, Hiawatha Elementary can fart freely, especially after the movie begins and sound would be muffled.

Roll.

The movie plays, on a large projector wheel, and it makes the ticking noise as the tape unrolls. The man operating the projector is Mr. Cann, the big kids' science teacher who the 2nd graders all know about because Mothkovich, K. has 2 older sisters (J. and A.) in Junior High. Mr. Cann is known for his halitosis and also for doing cartwheels, to get people's attention.

The movie is of the philosophy that scaring children is the best way to keep them safe. They watch a little scene where a group of happy, backpacked children crosses a train track. But a train comes! And the projector screen goes black. Hiawatha Elementary hears an urgent train horn, backpacked screams. Then there is a heavy-handed dark silence which attempts to impress the seriousness of this scene onto the 89 little minds gathered. When the scene resumes, the children see an ambulance taking away a white sheeted body on a stretcher. Look. Listen. Live. is the motto of this scene.

Nobody farts. Gustafson, D. (of Ms. Duellman's .5) thinks about a baby rabbit he killed with his rubber tomahawk.

The Safety video is a double feature. After learning How To Not Get Hit By Trains, the elementary learns What To Do In Case Of A Fire. Children in the video demonstrate how to Stop. Drop. and Roll. They learn to feel the handle of the door to make sure its not hot. They learn what a backdraft is. Some of the older kids may even understand what a backdraft is, but the 2nd grade just knows it's really bad.

Look, Listen, Live, Stop, Drop, and Roll.

Point is, that this is what comes to mind when I come home from work and find gray smoke billowing out of my stairwell. I certainly don't panic, nor do I have a clear head. All I can think of are safety mottos I learned in grade school. And after the safety mottos come all the other mnemonic devices and mottos and acronyms . ROY G BIV, SQ3R, "The More You Learn." A equals half base times height. Elvis's Guitar Broke Down Friday, DARE To Keep Kids Off Drugs. I know to feel the handle of the door before I open it, to see if it's hot. It isn't, and I'm reasonably sure that there won't be any explosive backdraft. We rush in (courageously) to save the cat. Later, I'm sitting on the cold sidewalk, holding the cat whose nose is runny, and watching the now black smoke billowing out of the downstairs condo. I'm also humming the tune that helps me remember the "family password" we made long ago, In Case Of Emergencies.

Of course I can't disclose the words to that tune, but it sounds like this: "Doo-D-doo, Doo Doo."

World Naked Bike Ride

Sometimes I say mean things about Chicago. I say that I don't like living here, it's dirty and everyone is such a stupid mess. I say that I'd rather go and live in the mountains.

But the truth is, that going and living in the mountains (which is really just a metaphor for escapism, whether or not a person knows anything about mountains or even likes them)...it would be kind of boring.

If you escape the dirty ugly mess of people and concrete, then you also lose things like the World Naked Bike Ride. Last night, in the company of 700 or so minimally clothed bicycle enthusiasts, I rode around the Loop, up through River North, Old Town and Lincoln Park. We paid special attention to the BP stations by riding in a full circle around each one and yelling mean things (like "Fuck oil!" or just "Fuck you BP" ...not overly creative).

Large bike rides that clog the streets are not always met with happy faces. People in cars hate Critical Mass (like these poor people) , but its amazing what a little nudity can do (ok, a lot of nudity). From 8-10:30, I didn't see one unhappy person. All the riders, were so happy and friendly, because they were naked. Obviously, everyone was choosing to be there and choosing to be however exposed they chose to be, but I think that, on a different level, people were more friendly because they were nude and vulnerable.

The spectators were absolutely thrilled. Chads and trixies in Old Town were out cheering on the sidewalk, while people indoors were squished up against the windows taking pictures and videos (which they immediately tweeted, I'm sure!).

I'm sure no one is surprised that a naked bike ride made everyone happy, I'm certainly not. But I did find myself marveling, "Look how happy everyone is!" because for the whole time, I witnessed exclusive joy and positive energy. No cops, no fights, no crude comments. I think that's something, anyway.