Ob-la dee…………Ob-la-da……
“Wherever YOU are, is the entry point”………………………………………………………………………………………………….Kabir
“Where can I find a man who has forgotten words? He is the one I would like to talk to”…………………..Chuang- Tzu
“Stop acting so small! You are the universe in ecstatic motion”…………………………………………………………….Rumi
“This little light of mine…I’m a gonna let is shine”…………………………………………………………………………………Harry Dixon Loes
Ten Mountain Questions
How do you know it is summer in Vermont?
Some time at the very end of June it hits 80 degrees and the sun comes out…..Jenn does not leave the house without her netting mask to subvert the swarm of Black Flies……THE Pond gets full…….the Green gets Greener….the flowers are popping….the Poppers are poppering…..there’s music in the hills…the pile of mulch arrives…..and snow is gone on the slopes (maybe)
What does one do on a lazy Sunday afternoon after The Blog and the chores are done?
Well when the sun is out, one pulls out their walking shoes, puts The Lucy in the car…and heads off in search of a dirt road hike…..said hike usually involving various forms of power equipment buried in the bush, sweeping mountain views, houses that look like old railroad cars- alternating with hidden treasure Mc-mansions and…. rusted double wides…..and tries to avoid the Black flies…..
How do you hava threesome in Vermont?
You go to the chiropractor’s office in Rutland on a slow Monday afternoon…and get both of the chiropodists to work on you…..whilst you gyrate and moan….(helps with the moaning if one of the Cs is a little cutie fresh out of manipulation school)…then you walk out through the waiting room to the envious stares of the waiters…..happy endings….
What do you eat of a warm evening, when The Queen has worn herself out moving a few inches on the giant pile of mulch and keeping the Black Flies off her netting?
You go see the curmudgeons at the Belmont General Store, and if they have not shut down the grill early….you get local grass fed burgers and greasy frozen French fries (may or may not be potatoes)… …….take them home and eat out on the massive table on the newly discovered inside porch….then you try and decide what might be for dinner….
What do you do when you get the itch to see a few people of color?
You head down the Route 7 mountain corridor to Bennington, pick up the legendary Taconic Parkway (built by FDR so he could easily get from The City to his hideout in Hyde Park….which, by the way, has been crowned the most dangerous road in NY state))….and go down to The City….where the thermometer reads 95 degrees –in the shade- –but feels like 110 in the concrete jungle………have a lovely dinner with the long lost Paul cousins at mob-vibe Angela’s of Tuckahoe……….visit Cousin Joel at the Rehab Center where is recovering………try to get Lucy to shit on the concrete or walk a mile in the heat to find some grass…sleep…..wake….pick up crazy priced Jewish Deli to go ($40 for two sandwiches and a knish!) (at one of the two last standing Jewish Delis in the Bronx…which had over 150 of these gems as recently as the early 1960s)…..then…. drive back the way you came….having now had your fill of third world languages for the month….
What do you do when you are away from mountain splendor and spending the night in the north Bronx and it is too hot to go out?
You watch ten ambitious lunatics on the telley yell at each other for two hours for the right to have an eighteen month pissing contest with the moronic Sir Donald (and if you’re really feeling it…you do it again the next night)…and you wonder what happened to Democracy…are we passing the torch yet?
What does one do after returning to the Green from the rigors of NYC outskirts driving, too much red meat, the heat of the concrete jungle…and a dose of third world countries?
You meander over the hill to the Belmont Body and Soul shop to see the Blue Skies Dominatrix …for a grand Trailer Massage…..which encompasses a full review of the 20 crazed Donald wannabes, applied patches of the oils of some place from the sub-continent and the majordomo finish of smoke waving of sage to ward off the evil spirits….then you go home and take a two hour nap…
How do you hit the week’s finish line in the mountains….with a bit of culture?
You make the twenty minute drive down Route 100 to the lovely hamlet of Weston for your first show of the season at the historic Weston Playhouse….and see a laborious rendering of the longest running musical since the Greek Revivals….the venerable Fantasticks……the mountain equivalent of going to Broadway…sans cars, people, horn honking. $40 parking and riot ready NYPD Blue…
What do you do at 8 am on Saturday morning on the Mount?
The Queen rises, leaving The Sage in repose….and treks to see the Dumpmaster with Lucy in tow. Whilst little Lucy rediscovers the wondrous aromas of the “transfer station” (who came up with that moniker?)….The Queen cavorts with Kevin the Walrus…who is again disturbed that both of us had not made the weekly pilgrimage… and threatens to come down to join me in repose (apparently the Walrus goes both ways)…..
How do we celebrate life in the mountains????
In late April, the community lost a founding father, my folk club friend, Jim Osborne. Jim showed amazing dignity in a ten year battle with Parkinson’s. Most of the town gathered on Saturday afternoon at the ubiquitous Odd Fellows Hall to celebrate Jim. Amidst the many testimonials, emerged the theme of an extraordinarily caring person who helped about every person on the Mount at one time or another…as well as a full review of Jim’s propensity to wax philosophic about anything under the sun. I once went to see Jim about possibly fixing a broken led hanger on a piece of stained glass…….resulting in a two hour oral history on the use of led in primitive cultures…..a sad yet joyous day of life celebration…..Will the Circle be Unbroken?
If you have further questions…..feel free to ask…..
The Sage of Mt. Holly
