Thursday, June 17, 2004 :::
 

I was discussing how much I missed the islands, the blue pacific rollers on south shore. Diamond Head, Kahala, Aina Haina. All spots that were lighting up with the northeast trades, I hated missing it, but missing it I did.

“Clap a stopper on your jaw-tackle!“ the old Quebecois roared

“There never was a very great man yet who spent all his life in warm climates. A blast from the arctic, my boy, that is inspiration. Once having your breath frozen that’s the making of many a true poet and the blasting of many pretenders; for, you see, there's no favorites played by old man winter, it’ll knock the false teeth right out of your mouth, it tells you just what you are, and makes you feel it, too. Winter, I say, is the thing to bring us mortals out. How it rocks up here, my boy! But it only proves what I've been saying. Winter is the season that cradles genius! Anyone can survive in fairer climes. Those tropics are but places for lightweights. Summer what a joke! Bring back winter I say! This is all too easy.”

::: posted by Mega at 6:01 AM

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Mega means big or large stir because I like to mix it up