Then shall the fall further the
flight in me.
These lines
in Herbert’s Easter Wings (1633) refer to felix
culpa, Adam’s fall in the Garden of Eden.
Felix culpa (Latin) means
literally, happy fault because in
Christian theology the sin of Adam is viewed as being fortunate, a disaster
with a happy consequence, specifically the blessedness of the Redemption.
Being the
snappy title guy, I’ve stolen Herbert’s line, and am suggesting Adam’s felix culpa to be mine, too. Adam’s fall is my autumn (synonymous pun intended), the happy consequence of me
learning the didge with plenty of redemption time, to avoid the traditional disaster
of trying to busk for the coming of winter.
I shall rise in my busking flight by ditching my guitar and, instead,
droning my didge.
Then shall the fall (surely) further
the flight in me!
Yesterday
was plus five degrees and my world was sunny and windless. It was the perfect day to go didge
busking.
I repeat:
Yesterday was plus five degrees and
my world was sunny and windless. It was
the perfect day to go didge busking.
Wait a
minute! It was also the perfect and
perhaps the last day to go guitar busking – and I did go guitar busking. I know I know … but you know … I was actually
getting my didge-playing down to busk in cold, cold weather, not in okay-to-go
guitar strumming weather.
Hmmm …
All the
leaves are brown … and I was still out there guitar busking.
Alas, when
it comes to busking my guitar is my main comfort and my mercenary crutch.
Here are those marching in my CHAUCERIAN
PARADE this week:
No matter fall
nor winter, no matter nor spring nor summer, I shall always line up for steeped
tea (two tablespoons of milk and one cube of sugar) at TIMS.
You know
fall is over when hockey arrives. My
best friend, COLBY WILLIAMS (above) is getting his picture taken for the
HERSHEY BEARS of the American Hockey League.
My close friend and National Hockey League scout, BRAD HORNUNG, and I
have calculated Colby’s chances of making the Hershey line-up at around
85%. (Notice how I can calculatingly
name-drop, the employment of a not-so-subtle and near subliminal suggestion
that includes my close friend and National League Hockey scout, Brad Hornung,
in my Colby calculation. Did I mention
my close friend, Brad Hornung, was a scout for the NATIONAL HOCKEY LEAGUE?)
(Colby, if you’re reading your favorite blog, keep in mind we are rooting for you!)
You know
fall is over when such leaves as above, have all but gone.
I guess I am
woebegone, woebegone that my spring season is waning and my winter season
waxing. Factoid: If I had the wherewithal, I’d be a real
busker, either a brutto busker or one having the means to follow the sun. Ah the life I’d lead in my Walter Mitty mind,
wandering the planet as a virtuoso busker thrumming my twelve-string or blowing
plangent rhythms from my didge.
 |
| A SEAGULL FOR MY FRIEND AND FUTURE BUSKER, AIDEN |
I’m disingenuous when it comes to dooin’ it.
FACTOID: As quickly and disingenuous as a Donald Trump surrogate, who never seems to answer a direct political question, I have pivoted from bragging about blowing my didge to actually busking with my guitar.
And speaking of Donald Trump surrogates, the affable Jeffrey Lord and Kayleigh McEnany, the deer-in-the-headlights Michael Cohen, and the crass Corey Lewandowski …
THEN SHALL THE FALL FURTHER THE FLIGHT IN YOU!
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