Brewed Beverage of Choice: A pot of Oolong Tea
Some of you may have been wondering where I have gone to these past few weeks. For anyone who knows me I am very introspective and periods of quiet are quite normal for me. And that is where I have been. Plus I have been intrigued and engulfed in reading The People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn, a book that has opened my eyes and mobilized me. The following is a quote I read this morning and found it interesting enough to write it down in my journal. So interesting in my opinion that I am going to share it with you. The quote is from Archibald MacLeish on Post World War 2, the U.S., and the peace process:
“As things are now going, the peace we will make, the peace we seem to be making, will be a peace of oil, a peace of gold, a peace of shipping, a peace in brief…without moral purpose or human interest.”
Not too sure how you may view this quote being out of context of the chapter. But like I said it moved me enough to write it down. Perhaps a more moving quote should be the one that I read in a local newspaper which lead me to get Zinn’s book. It came at the very beginning of my introspective period and opened my eyes…or better yet it allowed me the strength to use the voice I have been given.
“People who seem to have no power, whether working people, people of colour, or women - once they organize and protest and create movements - have a voice no government can suppress.” - Howard Zinn
Prost!
a no longer voiceless confucian brewer
Brewed Beverage of Choice: Henry’s IPA in a polished pint glass
Thelonius where the hell have you been? It has been far too long since last we met and I was beginning to worry. Perhaps we just missed each other on the bus, you getting off at 6th and Main as I boarded one block away on 7th. Maybe you were on the 4:53 train dreaming of a new riff whilst I was late finishing my brew riff and had to catch the 5:08. Where have you been?
I have missed hanging out with all the gang. Charlie…Diz…Lester…Bud…Hell, even Mingus and his soulful unevenness. I have missed the beers at night in the bar down the street where Horace went mad on the keys and everyone in the room enjoying the madness even joining in and giving him their madness with him adding it to the mix making a big roomful of inviting madness. I miss the times watching Philly Joe beat the shit out of the drums skillfully and not once having to replace his sticks. You know I still prefer the swingin brushstrokes of Jo, but Philly has his moments. I miss sitting at the table with the gang with beers and wine and coffee listenin to Lady Day entrance the room with her version of the blues. We laughed at the squares at the corner table because they still do not get it and never will. I laugh even though I was one of those at one time and still am at other times.
So you can imagine my surprise this morning as I walk into the cafe, my favourite cafe, and see you solemnly sitting at the counter drinking a cup of joe and reading the newspaper. You looking all regal and at home with the coffee mug at your left hand - always at your left hand or at least that is how I remember it. The sight brought a tear to my eye as if I had just found my long lost brother. I wish I had a camera to capture your saintly serenity but no photo could do the image justice. Instead I stare for a bit like a child who is just about to meet his idol, Lou Gehrig, for the first time…Eyes blinking as if the sight of you, the length of the counter with empty seats while others are filled with the working men and women of the morning, the whole sight is a mirage and I am still lying in bed dreaming. After a moment of silence, I finally walk up, slap you on the back, and ask, “Thelonius, where in the hell have you been, my friend?”
Prost!
the confucian brewer