– Definition: adj.; chiefly British chaotic, disorganized, or mismanaged.
– Used in a sentence: Our political and cultural landscapes have become shambolic as all get-out.
– Why: Because we need a more polite (and adjectival) descriptor than… those in current usage.
The Spiritual Seeker’s Ponder
“DO YOU WANT ANSWERS? Or better, more interesting questions?”
Bonite a la Maison A.
ALBACORE GETS ALL THE PRESS when it comes to canned tuna, but skipjack is the preference ’round here due to its richer flavor. (Think of it as a “white meat / dark meat” thing.) And the preference for preparing an economical and delicious sandwich of same is as follows:
Drain two cans of pole-caught, no-salt-added skipjack ($2.29 a can at our local Whole Foods). Flake into desired container. Add a few squirts of Tabasco and some fresh-ground black pepper to taste, enough dill relish to provide a nice crunch, and a modest squeeze of anchovy paste. Moisten with sufficient ranch dressing to hold everything together and mix thoroughly.
To serve: Toast some good bread as dark as you like it. Spread one piece thickly with skipjack mixture, top with a leaf or two of romaine lettuce, and top that with the other toast-slice. Cut diagonally and place both halves at an angle on a suitable plate, fill the intervening space with kettle-cooked potato chips, and have at!
Prosatio Silban and the Consequential Light
THERE IS A REASON THAT the expression “take care with your wishes” is such a widespread cliché.
It was a fine spring day, mixing an unbroken vault of blue, the alluring scent of sun-warmed fragrantia, and magah-birds crooning sprightly refrains from the branches of occasional latticewood trees. Prosatio Silban tugged at the plaited yak-hair reins, brought his dray-beast and galleywagon to a gentle halt, and whistled in wonder.
They had emerged from the trees into a broad lawn encircling a tall white dome set atop a gentle rise. The dome seemed to be missing a vertical section, but from his perspective, the cook-errant couldn’t see what lay within the darkened cavity.
Prosatio Silban and the Shattered Vessel
WE’VE ALL HEARD OF LOST arts. But what about lost artists?
Prosatio Silban rolled out of his sleeping-berth and onto his ornate braided rug, studying the bedside mirror with worry etched on his face and defeat slumping his shoulders.
I can’t do this anymore, he thought at his downcast image.
Birds of a Feather
THE SMALL BOY AT SONOMA Plaza came running up to the ducks.
Great, I snarled to myself. Just what we need — another damn kid chasing the local waterfowl. Why can’t they leave the birds in peace?
As I considered this, he turned from the flock and ran to an old woman in a wheelchair. “Would you like to feed the ducks?” he asked with youthful enthusiasm, offering her two slices of rye bread.
Some days, crow doesn’t taste half-bad.
Teachable Moment
WHILE HITCHHIKING BETWEEN PLACERVILLE AND South Lake Tahoe in 1985, my ride — who had just unsuccessfully offered a friendly beer — taught me a valuable lesson on which I still reflect constantly: “When you’re on the road, and someone wants to give you something, take it.”
People like to help. So much so, that when you refuse said help, they feel at least disappointed or, at worst, insulted. Whether it’s carrying something, taking something, getting ahead of them in line at the grocery store, or whatever, it makes a vital human connection between otherwise-strangers. We all like to feel needed; and when someone else implies that we’re not, it grouses us on a visceral level.
Here in Lower North America, we pay a good deal of lip-service to the Rugged Individual who’s admonished to “stand on your own two feet.” But that can get lonely after a while. When that loneliness-wall is breached, it feels good — both to the giver and receiver. And who wants to refrain from helping someone feel good?
So the next time you receive an offer of help, accept it with a cheery “Thank you.”. It’s the human thing to do.