Ah, Just Spring...

When a young man’s fancy turns to love.
And an old man’s fancy turns to fishing, fly fishing to be exact. With the first days above 50 degrees and the emergence of the first few stoneflies, the spirit of the fisherman is awakened from the slush of winter into a world of green spring, rippling creeks and shady, deep-water holes where dwell the big fish.
Researching new waters has been the project of the week; buying and reading maps, calling tackle stores for tips on the proper flies and expected bug hatches, looking for the right equipment and planning the first trip. All these things raise the anticipation the way the first warm breeze anticipates the season’s change.
A friend asked why I get so involved in fly fishing, I think she used the word “obsession”, although I prefer the word “focus”. I really hadn’t thought much about the why before then. I mean, it was just something fun, and excuse to get outside, connect with nature in an increasingly stressful and artificial world. But I know it is more than that. Maybe it is an escape from the indifference we face in an disturbingly apathetic society into a world where only one thing makes sense, the Zen of just being on the water.
But more important -I know- fly fishing is an art and craft, like music, where no matter what level or how long one is involved in it; there is always something new, fresh and valuable to learn.

Richard Hugo, One of the Great Poets the 20th Century

Degrees of Gray in Philipsburg
by Richard Hugo

You might come here Sunday on a whim.
Say your life broke down. The last good kiss
you had was years ago. You walk these streets
laid out by the insane, past hotels
that didn't last, bars that did, the tortured try
of local drivers to accelerate their lives.
Only churches are kept up. The jail
turned 70 this year. The only prisoner
is always in, not knowing what he's done.

The principal supporting business now
is rage. Hatred of the various grays
the mountain sends, hatred of the mill,
The Silver Bill repeal, the best liked girls
who leave each year for Butte. One good
restaurant and bars can't wipe the boredom out.
The 1907 boom, eight going silver mines,
a dance floor built on springs--
all memory resolves itself in gaze,
in panoramic green you know the cattle eat
or two stacks high above the town,
two dead kilns, the huge mill in collapse
for fifty years that won't fall finally down.

Isn't this your life? That ancient kiss
still burning out your eyes? Isn't this defeat
so accurate, the church bell simply seems
a pure announcement: ring and no one comes?
Don't empty houses ring? Are magnesium
and scorn sufficient to support a town,
not just Philipsburg, but towns
of towering blondes, good jazz and booze
the world will never let you have
until the town you came from dies inside?

Say no to yourself. The old man, twenty
when the jail was built, still laughs
although his lips collapse. Someday soon,
he says, I'll go to sleep and not wake up.
You tell him no. You're talking to yourself.
The car that brought you here still runs.
The money you buy lunch with,
no matter where it's mined, is silver
and the girl who serves your food
is slender and her red hair lights the wall.

Charles Bokowski, the most honest of the poets

How Is Your Heart?

during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
whores
I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn't call it
happiness-
it was more of an inner
balance
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
factories
and when relationships
went wrong
with the
girls.

The Hangover Formula

For those who are discovering an increase in hangovers, I have done a bit of research in an attempt to, quite frankly, help us all drink more and suffer less.
This is the formula I have devised to illustrate the results of my research:

Hi= VxA%xCl / H20xFxT

Hi= Hangover Index
is directly proportional to:

V = Volume of alcohol consumed
A%= Percentage of Alcohol in Beverage
Cl = Congeners level

and inversely proportional to:

H2O= Level of hydration
F = Volume of food in stomach
T = Time over which the beverages are consumed.

Thus one can reduce the effects of a hangover by reducing the V, A%, and Cl and increasing the H20, F and T.

For those who are not familiar with congeners level, it is the level of impurities created during the fermenting process. The following is an abbreviated list with the drinks high in Cl listed first:

Port Wine
Red Wine
Bourbon
Rum
Brandy
Single Malt Scotch
Blended Scotch
Cider
Dark Beer
Regular Beer
Tequila
White Wine
Gin
Vodka
Lite Beer
Champagne
Cocktails

Take note, cheaper booze is usually higher in congeners, clear booze is generally lower.

So there you have it. By following the formula one can simply drink more and feel less bad about it. It is my hope you will use this information only for good, and not for evil purposes, nor should you share this with the wrong people.

Neruda, my favorite poet

Drunk as Drunk

Translated from the Spanish by Christopher Logue

Drunk as drunk on turpentine
From your open kisses,
Your wet body wedged
Between my wet body and the strake
Of our boat that is made of flowers,
Feasted, we guide it - our fingers
Like tallows adorned with yellow metal -
Over the sky's hot rim,
The day's last breath in our sails.

Pinned by the sun between solstice
And equinox, drowsy and tangled together
We drifted for months and woke
With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
And the sound of a rope
Lowering a bucket down its well. Then,
We came by night to the Fortunate Isles,
And lay like fish
Under the net of our kisses.

Pablo Neruda