'my god, it's full of stars'

it's difficult to convey gratitude because, i guess, being thankful is pretty unfashionable these days. maybe all days. i have my moments, we all do, what poet martin stannard calls 'fucking life' with its 'optimism and despair', and i have these moments where i am happy because i am alive.

e.g. nicholas turned five years old last saturday. yep, five years old! how's that for a kick-in-the-pants as his old man and his mother are continuously amazed that we made him and that his energy which exceeds a nuclear powerplant brings us at the same time utter joy and exhaustion.

nicholas received a small, portable telescope for his birthday. it's one of the things that the child had requested. last night it was relatively clear as some stars were poking thru the scrim of light cloud cover. so i put together the telescope and sighted a star that we looked at together. it was amazing. the light was bluish-grey and dimpled as the star, i'm not sure which star it was as i just pointed the scope at it and zeroed in till it became visible in the lens.

what a kick and utterly delightful as nicholas was jumping up and down pointing out the other points of light in the sky, including a passing helicopter. such is life in the big city. i settled in to my mere being who is conscious of the brevity of my own life and the lives of all i love and care for. not a big task at all but i am telling you that what i was feeling was gratitude to be given this gift.

nicholas said, there's so many stars. i told him there are billions upon billions. so many that our lives are made sweeter in the knowledge of them. our own minds are points of light too. poetry factors into this equation because for me poetry and the people who make poems are the rods that carry and focus these points. i am alive and conscious and verbal and the better ways to express and record this life is thru language uttered and written either in ink or pixels as poems. why not.

it reminds me of an old homily. i can't recall where and what context i first came into contact with it, i suppose i could google it but why bother, it works just the same. a captain is standing on the bridge of his ship. he sees either a wave, an iceberg, a torpedo, or even a giant whale, coming at the ship. the first mate says, we are going to be destroyed, what, captain, are you going to do. i think i shall praise it, says the captain.

the title of this post comes from a line in the movie 2010 [1984] which is a haunting line in an otherwise crappy sequel.

web tip of the week: retrocrush. fans of pop culture should get a kick out this zine. do go thru the archives where you'll be treated to articles about the worst album covers, cool cereal boxes, and even wealth of interviews with celebs past and present.