I read somewhere that an air traffic controller issued the following clearance:
"Angel Flight, go directly to HEAVN"
(Angel Flight being an organization that provides free transportation for very sick people and their families; HEAVN being a navigation fix. I'm betting the controller sent the flight to HEAVN just so he could issue that clearance)
I used to work in a law firm where one of the lawyers had the last name Christ. Each day they'd distribute a memo listing lawyers who were out of the office and those who were returning. Some days the memo would say "Returning... Christ."
BTW, speaking of Eden, since the shelf life for your threads is short, I was thinking about an earlier thread where "the tree grows in Bklyn; not" guy misviewed (a neologism, to be sure), your pix:
When we think of the City It’s more than just greenness; Perhaps it’s a pity We hearken so to meanness.
When I get mad someone might experience the wrath of Oden.
But, that has a lot less symbolism now than it would have a 1000 years ago.
Probably even less profound as well, what with no battle axes to swing.
Then again I am also the son of Oden, and am both less symbolic and less profound than Thor. Well, less symbolic at least. Thor wasn't exactly a great thinker.
The opening of those Garden of Edens has been a good thing for New York. They're like mini-Zabars, if you're too far away from the Upper West Side to go to the actual Zabar's.
There's that G of E in Palladian's neighborhood -- although I think there was another one on or around 14th street that closed down, possibly paying the price of overexpansion -- and I shop at the Brooklyn Heights branch to which Prof. Althouse directed the nun. Okay, I shop there sometimes. Usually, I just coast in, look around for any free food samples I can snarf up, and then coast back out again. (What I used to buy at the Brooklyn Heights G of E was my favorite condiment, Jane's Crazy Mixed-Up Salt, but they don't seem to carry it any more. For that, I still have to trek all the way to Zabar's.)
The nun story reminded me of an anecdote told me by a beloved former English teacher. She was meeting a new student who had transferred to my high school from a religiously-named high school in the City.
"Where did you come from?" she asked the student.
"Christ The King," was his deadpan reply.
And she thought to herself, "Jeez, why do they send all the wiseacres to me?"
And by the way, just a personal note: I'm finding it a little unnerving to see photos on this blog, not of the snowy Madison street-scenes or cafés or collegiate signage that I'm used to seeing, but rather of places right around the corner from my Cobble Hill apartment. The typographically confusing CAFÉ LULUc is next door to the laundromat I use -- with Stinky Brooklyn and what I thought was still called The Gowanus Yacht Club ("Welcome To Paradise") just a few blocks further up Smith St.
I was thinking about the "nun's tale" from canterbury tales and the garden of eden but grabbed my copy and it was the miller's tale...now that would have been a coincidence of sorts.
Who're you to say the encounter with the nun wasn't profound and symbolic? Given the track record, a little less smug certainty from the materialist side of the ledger is in order, wouldn't you say?
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29 comments:
You can't get there from here, as Thomas Wolfe wrote.
In fact, I gave the woman proper directions and recommended the place.
I read somewhere that an air traffic controller issued the following clearance:
"Angel Flight, go directly to HEAVN"
(Angel Flight being an organization that provides free transportation for very sick people and their families; HEAVN being a navigation fix. I'm betting the controller sent the flight to HEAVN just so he could issue that clearance)
How to Get to the Garden of Eden by Ann Althouse.
Would sell millions. Get you on Oprah. Think of the vortex that would be caused!
---the little blot of lipstick Althouse leaves on her glass after sipping her wine in the Vlog.
I used to work in a law firm where one of the lawyers had the last name Christ. Each day they'd distribute a memo listing lawyers who were out of the office and those who were returning. Some days the memo would say "Returning... Christ."
Just west of Hicks on the southside I think....and what were you doing at the NYS Court of Appeals?
Meet your Meat.
It's just a Blogad, nothing more.
Actually I was being symbolic!
BTW, speaking of Eden, since the shelf life for your threads is short, I was thinking about an earlier thread where "the tree grows in Bklyn; not" guy misviewed (a neologism, to be sure), your pix:
When we think of the City
It’s more than just greenness;
Perhaps it’s a pity
We hearken so to meanness.
"A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh.....
time passes, maxine...
the memo would say "Returning... Christ."
Did the previous one say "Christ has left the building?"
Did you tell the nun she was overdressed?
I used to work in a law firm where one of the lawyers had the last name Christ.
It were those attacks of stigmata that really brought in the billable hours...
I go to the one on 23rd street in Manhattan when I have class. A great place!
When I get mad someone might experience the wrath of Oden.
But, that has a lot less symbolism now than it would have a 1000 years ago.
Probably even less profound as well, what with no battle axes to swing.
Then again I am also the son of Oden, and am both less symbolic and less profound than Thor. Well, less symbolic at least. Thor wasn't exactly a great thinker.
The opening of those Garden of Edens has been a good thing for New York. They're like mini-Zabars, if you're too far away from the Upper West Side to go to the actual Zabar's.
There's that G of E in Palladian's neighborhood -- although I think there was another one on or around 14th street that closed down, possibly paying the price of overexpansion -- and I shop at the Brooklyn Heights branch to which Prof. Althouse directed the nun. Okay, I shop there sometimes. Usually, I just coast in, look around for any free food samples I can snarf up, and then coast back out again. (What I used to buy at the Brooklyn Heights G of E was my favorite condiment, Jane's Crazy Mixed-Up Salt, but they don't seem to carry it any more. For that, I still have to trek all the way to Zabar's.)
The nun story reminded me of an anecdote told me by a beloved former English teacher. She was meeting a new student who had transferred to my high school from a religiously-named high school in the City.
"Where did you come from?" she asked the student.
"Christ The King," was his deadpan reply.
And she thought to herself, "Jeez, why do they send all the wiseacres to me?"
And by the way, just a personal note: I'm finding it a little unnerving to see photos on this blog, not of the snowy Madison street-scenes or cafés or collegiate signage that I'm used to seeing, but rather of places right around the corner from my Cobble Hill apartment. The typographically confusing CAFÉ LULUc is next door to the laundromat I use -- with Stinky Brooklyn and what I thought was still called The Gowanus Yacht Club ("Welcome To Paradise") just a few blocks further up Smith St.
Palladian: "I go to the one on 23rd street in Manhattan when I have class."
You do realize that's susceptible to two rather different interpretations, I hope. 8-)
You do realize that's susceptible to two rather different interpretations, I hope.
And one is definitely less profound and symbolic.
I was thinking about the "nun's tale" from canterbury tales and the garden of eden but grabbed my copy and it was the miller's tale...now that would have been a coincidence of sorts.
Was she Sister Capulet?
Did she mutter an oath and ask for an ale?
How did you know she was a nun? These days, it's often hard to tell.
There are folk who will telephone Jesus College on Christmas Morning and sing......
Who're you to say the encounter with the nun wasn't profound and symbolic? Given the track record, a little less smug certainty from the materialist side of the ledger is in order, wouldn't you say?
There's a Mt. Eden Ave in Da Bronx.
Not my idea of the Biblical Garden of Eden.
But Green-Wood Cemetery is.
The Catholic Church meets the PoMo Church of Salvation Through Correct Diet...
"You do realize that's susceptible to two rather different interpretations, I hope. 8-)"
Err, of course!
Jeff
You’re a terrible cynic.
Isn’t it possible that the nun was going to the G of E to get surplus food for her food bank?
For your pennance....
"It's at 180 Montague, Sister." And here's a Google Maps street view of it. "If they offer you an apple, say no."
Ruth Anne
Sister Capulet on Montague St., indeed.
Stick that right in your Coriolanus.
(Apologies to Cole Porter.)
Does G of E's CEO, like Whole Foods' CEO, go on a chat room under the nom de blogue of "Romeo"?
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