Monday, September 26, 2005

Let Us Go And Make Our Visit...

Sid Call (1935 -

My father's 70th birthday is today. I have watched him now for 47 years. He's still a spry young man in my eyes, much younger than his years tell. He still likes a good joke and likes to tell a good story, and his kind blue eyes still have that youthful mischievious twinkle when he's witnessed a piece of irony or involved himself in a little prank. He gave my brothers and me one of the greatest gifts a man can give his sons: he taught us how to fish at a very early age. Now grown men, my brothers and I love fishing as much as we did when we were wee boys. I wish him a happy birthday, and wish him many more happy years with my dear mother.
Indeed there will be time.

Thomas Stearns Eliot (1888 - 1965)

T.S. Eliot was born on September 26, 1888. Two of my favorite poems are his: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, and The Wasteland.

If you've kids of your own I highly recommend that you acquire a copy of Eliot's Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. The sheer playfulness of the language in the book's collection of poems will win you and your children over, and perhaps even instill a love of language and its possibilities that you won't get anywhere else. Think of the book as the literary snob's Dr. Suess.

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