Absent Friends

            The holiday season is a time when we tend to think of absent friends and loved ones.  And we call to mind a toast, which has been aft attributed to Robert Burns:

To absent friends

To those we have met

To those we have yet to meet

To those who have left us for a while

And to those who have left us forever

Let us lift our glasses

And drink a toast

That they may abide in our hearts

Forever.

To absent friends

            To Ted, Frank, Esther, Don, Don, Merk, Carroll, George and Melba, Bernie and Ila, Ray and Eleanor, Florence and Leo, Mike and Kyle, and many others, absent friends and loved ones!  We remember and we miss you, and we are grateful for the part of you that remains in our hearts.  Hard as it is, we recognize that you have fulfilled the purpose for which you came, and you have moved on.

            Around here we are no strangers to these feelings.  They are part of the price of loving.  And we must never fall into the trap of thinking that we are alone in missing loved ones.  As surely as it happens to us, it also happens to people everywhere in the world.  No home is immune, whether a mansion or a tent, a cabin or a cardboard box.  So as once again we gather to celebrate spiritual renewal in the joy of our chosen faith, let us all raise a toast to, and perhaps set a plate for, absent friends.

The Spell of Words

            Sometimes words just don’t make sense.  Words like ‘politician’ and ‘hemorrhoid’, for instance.  They seem to have incredible literary flourish for things that are a pain in the…anatomy.  Whereas ‘pie’ and ‘dance’, two of life’s thoroughly delightful things, are relegated to one-syllable sadness in a language otherwise bursting with potential.  I’m not calling for a march on academe here, but a little consideration for the manner in which we refer to certain things would go a long way toward making language intuitive. 

            I know this approach can lead to some controversy.  Opera and heavy metal rock.  Need I say more?  Still, when you compare the ‘smell’ of roses with the ‘redolence’ of roses, you can sense some possibilities.  And I’m fine with a Yugo being a car while an Aston-Martin is an automobile.  Bucket?  No problem!  However, a T.V. commercial is way too elegantly named.  It should be a crud.  Infotainment should be slop.  And lite beer?  Well, why even use that phrase?  But enough of that.

            Book is a word that far and away deserves syllabic enhancement.  Poe understood this with his “…quaint and curious volume(s) of forgotten lore…”  You get the idea—if it’s good, give it a little literary festivity.  For instance, around here ‘asthma’ seems a pretentious way to spell something ugly.  It should be spelled Azmuh.  Save the fancy pretense for words that signify finespun, delightful things, like a brightly colored sunset, or Tiramisu at Ruby Tuesday’s!  Things that deserve a little pomp and puff.