(... under the apple boughs)
My life has become too much of one thing. I make crass jokes to avoid the other. It is tiring, for me most of all. Today I will have some time to divert, to read beautiful writing, and to hope that it brings some small change to my life.
Also, today I will bring my computer in to get it fixed. I will visit the place that I used to work. Having been a technician at The Apple Corporation I am always amazed at the marketing feat they have pulled off in the last 5-7 years. They have convinced the public that their computers are actually worth much more than other companies' computers. Yes, the Apple Operating System is preferable, but the hardware, other than being a nicer design, is comprised of the same useless pieces of crap they use in other computers, mostly.
Apple computers used to be hailed as the computers of choice for design firms. Anybody in the "creative" fields were told that Apple computers were the only option. Well, the world wanted it that way, now they've got it. Except that a lot of people are starting to notice that the computers still cost 3-4 times as much as other computers but aren't delivering that type of performance and longevity. People marvel at the concept and service of the "Genius Bar", never stopping to ask why it is so necessary.
I am just mad because I'm having to bring my $2500 desktop computer in for yet another repair. A major component, the LCD, has failed, again. Once the extended warranty that I purchased for the device expires the solution will be simple: they will tell me that it is time to buy another $2500 computer. It's absurd and very few people even seem to notice. The Orbitz corporation was caught selling higher priced tickets and hotels to their customers that were accessing the site using Macs. Hilarious. Can you blame them? When you've got a captive sucker market then why not exploit it.
Ok, enough. I really should decided what I want to write about before I sit down to do so each morning. It is becoming a problem, ranting and vulgarity being all that I seem capable of lately.
Cato, the kid who ambushes me with questions on any recent subject that takes his interest, was admitted to the hospital a few days ago. They needed to remove a gerbil from his rectum, I believe. He was in the hospital for a few days while they performed their rodent removal procedures. A young friend of his, a very sweet girl, brought him a book of poems to read by Dylan Thomas. Cato was quite mad that I had not told him about the great poet yet. I explained that it was not possible for me to transfer 35 years of reading over to him in a single summer, that those things take time, and he must have a reading appetite to match mine, and to do so for decades before he could reasonably catch up. He harangued me anyway. I told him to read the poem "Fern Hill" from the collection.
He said that he wanted to become more familiar with Thomas' themes before jumping into his most notable poems.
I told him to do as he wished, but that the trained professionals at the hospital might be able to remove the gerbil faster than he supposes, and once he was back on the outside who knows what foul and godless pursuits might keep him from reading it then. He relented and read the poem. He was unsurprisingly impressed. I encouraged him to memorize the poem. It is a reasonably difficult one to commit to in that way. The rhythms of the poem make it very easy to accidentally jump from one verse to another, disrupting the structure of the whole.
It was a poem that I memorized years ago, in part at one time, then through to completion at another. I tried to recite it from memory the other day after breaking off communication with the gerbil killer. I made a few mistakes but had the main of the verses adequately memorized. It is one that is well worth keeping within.
I once remember reading an interview with Dylan Thomas and he was asked how he created a poem in which its rhythm feels and reads so effortlessly. He said it was easy, all he had to do was re-write it about a hundred and fifty times.