"Leave the horses in the wagon, it's all downhill from here..."
"The fireworks are over, only the smoke remains, clouding my great crystal balls."
--The Firesign Theatre, "I Think We're All Bozos on This Bus."
After being awakened a few minutes before midnight (somehow I was actually sleeping through hours of the war zone sounds of Hawaii fireworks, the way I always fell asleep on my Grandmother's mohair sofa while all the uncles and aunts and parents were carousing), we made our annual champagne toast and out on the lanai I banged my Chinese opera gong (timing precisely monitored by the Wizard's new iPhone's atomic clock app, I knew he was gonna get weird with this stuff). Three midnight gong bangs --the only time I am permitted to irritate my neighbors. I hope I woke up the noisy Russians downstairs.
--The Firesign Theatre, "I Think We're All Bozos on This Bus."
This morning I observed the progress of the Christmas cactus that started to set blossoms at the winter solstice. I can't imagine what this New Year has in store, but I have confidence that whatever it is, I can cope. The cactus year after year thrives and blooms; why not me?
"Ahhh!," the swami says, "The balls are clearing again. The right one is the Sun, and the left one is the Moon. Put what you want between them, and your future begins."
Great dope humor of the '70s!
2 comments:
I actually met a swami, once.
He was no more real than anything else in my unreal existence.
But he certainly looked real.
The biggest lesson I learned from meeting him was:
Never, ever, invite a swami home for a meal with the wife.
It's a bit like inviting a coyote home, to admire your prize chickens.
"Ahhh!," the swami says, "The balls are clearing again. The right one is the Sun, and the left one is the Moon. Put what you want between them, and your future begins."
- No wonder men are such cocky bastards! ;)
Happy New Year!!!
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