Monday, February 16, 2009
Kidnapped by Mr. Bartlett
Ahh, time. Scientists say it's endless, yet I never seem to have enough. Time is short, we are told. It also knows how to fly. If you're getting to a church, you'd better be "on" it. If you use too much, it will be "up." A good one can be had by all, but make sure you spend more of it with your family. It can run out.
Yeats thought there was no enemy but it. Shakespeare said love wasn't its' fool. With patience, Tolstoy wrote that it was the strongest of warriors. Longfellow, on the other hand, found it fleeting while Art was long. The Ancient Greek Aristotle believed it crumbled everything but the Ancient Roman Terence thought it healed all wounds. (The Romans were such an upbeat people!)
You can kill it. You can find it in corridors. You can get old before yours, die before yours or simply be a man of yours. You can fool all of the people with some of it and some of the people with all of it. If you're looking for it, it often hangs out with space.
The Walrus said it has come, which prompted a discussion of cabbages and kings. (Huh? What was in that hookah?)
It's money. It's a lag. It's of the essence, on your side, at hand and out of joint. Taking it is relaxing but don't ever waste it. Spending it with your friends is great too. We always seem to want one more of it - maybe that's why there are so many books written about managing it.
Carly Simon's pain couldn't be bothered with it. Jim Croce wanted to bottle it. The Byrds (and the Old Testament) said it has seasons which turn, turn, turn. When it's about business, the Flight of the Conchords get amorous. You'll be rising when Glen Campbell uses it to get to Phoenix.
H.G. Wells made a machine out of it. Proust remembered it. Madeleine L'Engle saw a wrinkle. Stephen Hawking wrote its' short history and Henry Luce named his magazine after it. It traveled with a wife, says Audrey Niffenegger and on a wheel according to Robert Jordan. Sidney Sheldon thinks it has sands.
Well, I've taken up enough of yours so it's about time I end this blog.
P.S. Blame John Bartlett for this. I consulted his book on Familiar Quotations in the reference section, thinking I wanted an opening quote for a column about short stories. As it happened, I couldn't put it down and spent days in the reference section at 808.882. My meals and mail were being sent there. I am alright now, thanks for asking.