Tag Archives: daisy

“We Can’t Let All This Glorious Love End In Nothing.”

Well this took forever to arrive in theatres. Thankfully, this side of forever. With such visual decadence roaring across the screen as only Luhrmann can produce, it was a quick minute to finding me in a ready seat.

“I’m gonna fix things the way they were before.
Just you and me.”

For these words, I sat with eager ears, if only to dream for an hour or two. At the very core, this lavish indulgence was rooted in the simplicity of love yet aided by none of its ease. Same classic story- Gatsby’s a self-made renaissance man with purity of character and the drive to see his heart’s desire, Daisy, on through- worthy of a sigh. And that suit, that white, white suit. Not just any white suit, an I’m in someplace tropical and too cool for my own skin white suit. Or, New York in the story’s case, either/or.

Nearing the conclusion, I was turned off by Daisy’s callus attitude towards Gatsby’s demise, and left the theatre feeling sullen and a bit dismal. Hardly the effect I was hoping for. Maybe it’s best I stick to the trailer that does well to tap into all the angst and passion contained within the film with none of what became of it. Thankfully, the soundtrack treats me to a cover of Love is Blindness by a certain Mr. White. Appeasement. ♦

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Smitty’s Demise

Goodness gracious, me-oh-my! Let me tell you what has transpired going into this past weekend …

Last Thursday afternoon, I’m driving along up the road on the way back to work. This tremendous sound, an out-n-out ruckus, begins. Like a piggie-squeal. UUUUURRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! I look over to my left at the Bronco next to me, thinking, “Sheesh, that poor vehicle has some issues!”

A few minutes later, I roll up to a red light. UUUUURRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! It’s back! Look to my left again. Yeah, no Bronco. Look forward. POOF! Large grey puffs of smoke are billowing out from all sides of my hood. MY hood. Look to my right. People are staring aghast at me in my little car. I slowly slide the sunglasses on my forehead down to over my eyes. Must hide. The light turns green. No one in any lane moves. They hang back allowing my dying car to lead the pack one last time. Lead, little car, lead.

I managed to pull into the parking lot of where I work, still squealing, all the while. The car, not me. The day passes and then after work, I call my dad who lives nearby and let him know I’m gonna attempt to head over to his place where the car can rest in peace free from fear of being towed away until I can call to have it junked (Waaaaaaaaagh).

Upon turning the key, UUUUURRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! Without a moment’s hesitation. I head out to the main road, only to find myself coming up on the rear of a black SUV, real quick! My brakes are ceasing up, the clutch is useless, it’s a total melt down! What to do?! Luckily, I veer off to my only out before impact and pull into an open spot in a large parking area. Call my dad to please come pick me up.

So, this means that SOMEONE, some nut, has stolen my beloved, though dead, little car.

It’s all about timing. You see, the week prior, plans were set in motion to purchase a new car. To be purchased and picked up Friday morning. Yeah, the very next morning! YAY! Big-time YAY. The next day, I’m on my way to work, and I pull into the lot where my little car had died just the evening before. Hhhmmm. No car. Double. Triple take. Once at work, Bean and my Dad call, as they often do, and I mention the car being gone. We detemine calling the towing company posted on signs outside is the first course of action. Thing is, there are no signs posted on the other side of the building in the lot where my little car died. All the same, I call only to be told “Nope, no record of a lightish, greenish, little car with a giant daisy on the hood!” So, this means that SOMEONE, some nut, has stolen my beloved, though dead, little car. Smitty. He was such a good little car. Now he’s probably been stripped and sanded, buffed, and redistributed as mere parts to only God knows where. Smitty lives on as a patchwork amongst many other little cars now. He always wanted to travel …

And so here I sit, smugly enjoying the last laugh with my brand NEW (used) little car. What to name him. Or her? ♦

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