This poem, below, is by Ada Limón, an American poet, born in Sonoma, CA. She’s 48 and was the first Latina U.S. Poet Laureate. (She is of Mexican descent.) It’s called “Calling Things What They Are” and was today’s Poem of the Day of The Poetry Foundation.
I pass the feeder and yell, Grackle party! And then an hour later I yell, Mourning dove afterparty! (I call the feeder the party and the seed on the ground the afterparty.) I am getting so good at watching that I’ve even dug out the binoculars an old poet gave me back when I was young and heading to the Cape with so much future ahead of me it was like my own ocean. Tufted titmouse! I yell, and Lucas laughs and says, Thought so. But he is humoring me; he didn’t think so at all. My father does this same thing. Shouts out at the feeder announcing the party attendees. He throws out a whole peanut or two to the Stellar’s jay who visits on a low oak branch in the morning. To think there was a time I thought birds were kind of boring. Brown bird. Gray bird. Black bird. Blah blah blah bird. Then, I started to learn their names by the ocean, and the person I was dating said, That’s the problem with you, Limón, you’re all fauna and no flora. And I began to learn the names of trees. I like to call things as they are. Before, the only thing I was interested in was love, how it grips you, how it terrifies you, how it annihilates and resuscitates you. I didn’t know then that it wasn’t even love that I was interested in, but my own suffering. I thought suffering kept things interesting. How funny that I called it love and the whole time it was pain.
There was a flood of inquiries about Chloe Grace Moretz after we posted her photo from the cover of Teen Vogue yesterday. (Well, there was none, actually, but so what?) So we checked in with our beauty consultant Ana who confirmed that, yup, she’s the real thing — a knockout among knockouts. Phil flew right out to get us some photos.
Moretz is 27 and was born in Atlanta. She has appeared in quite a few roles, including starring in Scorcese’s Hugo, working with Tim Burton in Dark Shadows, and appearing in 30 Rock.
Moretz has two gay brothers and is an active supporter of LGBTQ rights. She was active in Hilary’s campaign in 2016, and spoke at the Dem’s convention that year. She is not married but, sorry fellas, she’s in a long-term relationship with model Kate Harrison, forming sort of a Ruth/Gehrig beauty combination.
And here’s Kate Harrison. OMG, Philly — you’ve outdone yourself! Please let the girls know they are always welcome at Owl Chatter, day or night. I’m sure they’re in Jersey often. I’ll pick up some Diet Pepsi.
Todays’ puzzle was a real bear. I passed through it several times and got nowhere. When that happens you have to shoot for what Lewis calls a “faith solve.” You get little toeholds where you can and just have to have faith that some squares will fill themselves in. Hacking away got me pretty much through it eventually, but I crashed in the southeast, where I had MEH instead of MID for “Mediocre, in modern slang,” and had no idea DONGLE is a “Computer accessory,” or that POCO means “Somewhat, musically.”
Rex rated it “easy-medium.” Damn him!
Right off the bat at 1A the clue was “Labor tactic.” I filled in STRIKE. Turned out to be LAMAZE. Yeah, that kind of labor.
I had no hope for 31A, but the crosses gave it to me. The clue was “Methods for sharing pirated material,” and the answer was BIT TORRENTS. WTF? I did better with 29A where “Deep fears?” was SEA SERPENTS, not all of which are scary, btw.
At 7A, the clue was “Ding-dong” and the answer was DOOFUS.
Are you familiar with the term “Apologue” from 20A? Me neither. I thought it might be in the prologue/epilogue family, but it means FABLE. I got it from the crosses, but it still made me feel like a doofus.
At 17D the clue was “Levels of corporate hierarchy, so to speak,” and the answer was LADDER RUNGS. Here’s a good tune by a band that was new to me called Slobberbone, courtesy of Son Volt.
Here’s a story from tomorrow’s Met Diary that reminded me of how Linda and I met, sans cigarettes — at a restaurant in the Village no longer open called Sandolino.
It’s by Robin Kornhaber.
Dear Diary:
I was having cappuccino at Cafe Borgia on Bleeker Street 40 years ago. It was summer, and I was sitting inside the cafe. The windows were open.
Outside the one near me, two men were talking and smoking cigarettes. One had red hair and was very cute. When his friend stepped away, I leaned out the window and asked if I could have a cigarette.
He offered me the pack. I took one, and he lit it for me. His friend soon returned, and they resumed their conversation.
When I was ready to leave, I stopped at their table and suggested we get a drink at Jimmy Day’s a few blocks away.
We did. His friend eventually left for the Bronx and a year later the redhead and I were married.
P.S. I had never smoked before and never did again.
Let’s close tonight with an item from the Dull Men’s Club (UK) that had me laughing out loud. The post was by James “Fozzy” Foster and it said: You know that annoying grease proof paper that comes on the spread.. well today I opened up a pot of clover (other brands are available but clover is best) and there was no paper! Had to clean the lid off before I put it back on…
Adam Chapman opined: Clover is not best, you absolute heathen!
And James Spoore explained: My apols. if I m being even more dull than usual, but a factoid: Clover have been announcing for some months that the paper liner was about to be discontinued….
But it was Kevin Austen who got me roaring. He noted: Looks like Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss.”
Yup. I can see it if I squint.
Let’s make it a goodnight kiss. See you tomorrow!
The Wellington Files 