Category: Writing

I think I picked up my use of the elipses (…) from Herb Caen. He was a master in its use. Punctuation, grammar — these are tools to use, not rules to follow.

Herb Caen days continue. The following is an excerpt from an April, 1995 column:

SUNDAY was a great day for kite-flying, sailing, jogging, jiggling while jogging, jogging with a headset, jogging with Spandex, tossing Frisbees for dogs to retrieve, throwing tennis balls for dogs to return, roller-blading, skateboarding with a sail, wind-surfing, surfboarding on contemptuous breakers, biking, motorbiking, fishing, dishing, making sculptures out of the loose stones of the seawall, tossing sourdough bread to the wheeling gulls, lying in the sun, taking photos of your friends with the Golden Gate Bridge as a backdrop . . .

I DIDN’T do any of those things but they were all on view Sunday along the magical two- mile stretch from the St. Francis Yacht Club parking lot to Fort Point — paths well-traveled by generations of San Franciscans abundantly pleased with themselves at their choice of a place to live, laugh, love and luxuriate.

The Presidio: what a treasure on a Sunday- sweet-Sunday, with the wind brisk but not knife- sharp, the people (all sizes, shapes and languages) in a mellow mood. No intrusive sounds, only the boom-crash of a pounding surf throwing rainbow-spray high into the blue. In the distance, old Alcatraz, once our Devil’s Island, surrounded by forests of white sails that part to let a container ship through, followed by an auto carrier, a tanker, a row of barges towed by a chesty tug looking pleased with itself, as tugs tend to do.

One more post in my little orgy of posting tonight, and then off to bed. Sharon finished a class in Children’s Literature, and reading her words triggered fond memories of my own childhood reading.

Question: What was your favorite reading when you were a kid? And if you say Harry Potter, then you’re too young to be reading this weblog. There must be some kind of Britney Spears weblog you can read somewhere.

For me there were the usual books — Stevenson’s Child’s Garden of Verse, as well as Little Women and The Secret Garden. There was also one book that I can’t remember the name of but it was about a day when all the toys in the land became alive — for just one day. It was a great book. I also read every animal-related book I could get my hands on. And comic books when I could snitch them from my brother’s collection.

However, my favorite reading was faery tales. The best was Hans Christian Andersen’s The Ugly Duckling, though I also liked the Snow Queen and the Nightengale. And for a tale to curl your toes, there was the Grimm’s version of Cinderella (BTW, not for the faint of heart — what can I say, I was twisted at a young age).

Speaking of faery tales, the best movie depicting a faery tale is Jean Cocteau’s La Belle et La Bête. This movie put to shame Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, though the latter was an excellent introduction to the melding of traditional and computer animation.

BTW — Sharon, you’re going to be a terrific librarian, but they’re not going to let you swear among the stacks, m’dear.

I am becoming such a fan of Happy Tutor. In particular, today’s (and yesterday’s) posting on Writing of Injustice grabbed my attention and my thoughts.

It takes a rare talent to put forth such thoughtful prose wrapped, but not obscured, in a cloak of humor.

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Jonathon blended yesterday’s posting on Romance, and the associated comments into a thoughtful perspective.

It takes skill to combine the topics of Romance and the movie Fahrenheit 451 into one posting.

Tiny gestures of thoughtfulness, making another feel special, respect, and a bit of magic. Romance still exists — it’s just wearing a different set of clothes.