Last week was the eighth anniversary of poet/writer Jim Harrison’s death. He was Ted Kooser’s friend to whom Ted wrote the Winter Morning Walks poems on postcards. This poem of Jim’s is today’s poem in The Writer’s Almanac, no doubt because it’s called “Easter Morning.” It’s been quite a week for potatoes.
On Easter morning all over America
the peasants are frying potatoes in bacon grease.
We’re not supposed to have “peasants”
but there are tens of millions of them
frying potatoes on Easter morning,
cheap and delicious with catsup.
If Jesus were here this morning he might
be eating fried potatoes with my friend
who has a ’51 Dodge and a ’72 Pontiac.
When his kids ask why they don’t have
a new car he says, “these cars were new once
and now they are experienced.”
He can fix anything and when rich folks
call to get a toilet repaired he pauses
extra hours so that they can further
learn what we’re made of.
I told him that in Mexico the poor say
that when there’s lightning the rich
think that God is taking their picture.
He laughed.
Like peasants everywhere in the history
of the world ours can’t figure out why
they’re getting poorer. Their sons join
the army to get work being shot at.
Your ideals are invisible clouds
so try not to suffocate the poor,
the peasants, with your sympathies.
They know that you’re staring at them.
I couldn’t find my favorite potato cartoon. It was during the pandemic, when mask-wearing was on everyone’s mind, if not face. There are two potatoes talking. (They have arms, legs, and faces.) One is female and is wearing a mask. The other (male) one is unmasked and is saying: “You don’t have to wear a mask, Matilda — You’re a potato.”
This paragraph is from Dwight Garner’s book review in the NYT of the retelling of Huck Finn from Jim’s (James’s) perspective in James by Percival Everett.
“My idea of hell would be to live with a library that contained only re-imaginings of famous novels. It’s a wet-brained and dutiful genre, by and large. Or the results are brittle spoofs — to use a word that, according to John Barth, sounds like imperfectly suppressed flatulence — that read as if there are giant scare quotes surrounding the action. Two writers in a hundred walk away unscathed.”
But he says James is “the rarest of exceptions.” He makes it sound like Twain would like it. I sent that clip into Frank Bruni as a candidate for his “For the love of sentences” feature. Here’s a nice portrait of MT.
The puzzle cut me down today. Couldn’t finish. At 34D the clue was “Git,” and the answer was ARSE. Huh? It’s a British term for “foolish or worthless person.” If you remember The Beatles song I’m So Tired, Sir Walter Raleigh is called “such a stupid git” in it. Don’t believe me? Here:
And at 44D, “Actress Cravalho who voiced Moana,” was ARLI’I. Again, no idea, but Rex warned us to commit her to memory “because she is young and full of vowels and she is working, most recently in the remake of Mean Girls.”
Here’s Auli’i, surprised by our Phil.
The puzzle had a special treat for us! At 6D the clue was “Taylor Swift song that begins ‘Combat, I’m ready for combat.’” It’s THE ARCHER. Let’s have a listen.
I’ve been the archer, I’ve been the prey
Who could ever leave me, darling? Who could stay?
Who could stay?
You could stay.
One of the comments to this song on Youtube was, “I can’t believe Taylor Swift and I are the same species.”
“Bather in the Woods” painter was Camille PISSARRO. I hesitated because I didn’t recognize the spelling — double S and double R. Okay, if you say so.
Sadly, the Lady Beavers of Oregon State could not upset South Carolina and their season is over. Brava, Ladies! Brava! We got killed on the boards, and Beers and Gardiner got into a bit of foul trouble. We had our chances, though — it was competitive.
Sniper Lily Hansford hit on 4 three-pointers which really helped keep us in it. But she also missed 6 and seemed a little less composed in the second half. We’ll see you next year, Hansford — count on it.
And we’ll see you tomorrow! Thanks for stopping by.
The Wellington Files 