I have just returned from a trip to Chicago, Wisconsin, and Minnesota – more info on that in the coming days – but for now, let me tell you about a bit of serendipity while in Chicago.
We were there because (a) we have one daughter who lives there and (b) we have one daughter who lives in LA – and she (a comedian) was there to headline a show at an Improv Fest – so we met w/family and friends to see the show.
On Saturday we met up at our daughter’s hotel, and it was literally one block from the Poetry Foundation. LOL – if you follow my posts, you might remember that I have a bone to pick with the Poetry Foundation: they have a poem by Dickinson on their site which is numbered incorrectly.
Look below – I have the same poem from the PF site and from Poetry.org, and you’ll notice that one is number 291 (incorrectly) and the other is numbered as 311 (which is correct).
We were there because (a) we have one daughter who lives there and (b) we have one daughter who lives in LA – and she (a comedian) was there to headline a show at an Improv Fest – so we met w/family and friends to see the show.
On Saturday we met up at our daughter’s hotel, and it was literally one block from the Poetry Foundation. LOL – if you follow my posts, you might remember that I have a bone to pick with the Poetry Foundation: they have a poem by Dickinson on their site which is numbered incorrectly.
Look below – I have the same poem from the PF site and from Poetry.org, and you’ll notice that one is number 291 (incorrectly) and the other is numbered as 311 (which is correct).
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Then in the other pics, you see me approaching the Poetry Foundation – and me at the door about to go in! So stay tuned for more about this tomorrow!
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CONTINUED...
Anyway, last weekend as we were walking to my daughter's hotel, I spotted signs that clued me into the fact that I was near the Foundation. In pic 1 below, my wife took a pic of me taking a selfie. Pic 2 is the selfie. You can see the tension in my face and know that the situation was palpable.
Anyway, last weekend as we were walking to my daughter's hotel, I spotted signs that clued me into the fact that I was near the Foundation. In pic 1 below, my wife took a pic of me taking a selfie. Pic 2 is the selfie. You can see the tension in my face and know that the situation was palpable.
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In the next two pics, I’m walking into the PF’s courtyard. You can see the tension in my walk and know that the situation was palpable.
In the next series of pics, I reached the PF’s doors only to discover that they were locked – the PF didn't open for another hour. You can see the tension in the moment as I beat on the doors and scream that the situation was palpable.
In the next series of pics, I reached the PF’s doors only to discover that they were locked – the PF didn't open for another hour. You can see the tension in the moment as I beat on the doors and scream that the situation was palpable.
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In the final pics, as I departed, you can sense the tension in my face and realize that the situation was palpable.
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I was completely frustrated!
What was I to do?
Again, I ask, what was I to do? Well, I did what any frustrated person would do on the streets of Chicago when faced with a palpable situation: I walked over to Phil’s Coffee and enjoyed some “Philtered” cold brew and a Homer Simpson doughnut.
What was I to do?
Again, I ask, what was I to do? Well, I did what any frustrated person would do on the streets of Chicago when faced with a palpable situation: I walked over to Phil’s Coffee and enjoyed some “Philtered” cold brew and a Homer Simpson doughnut.
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OH – I forgot to mention that when I later met up with my daughter and told her about my crusade, I don’t think she appreciated the seriousness of the situation – because my one-man campaign for justice for Dickinson made it into her comedy show later that night.
For some reason, she finds all of this to be humorous.
For some reason, she finds all of this to be humorous.
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