The King and his Throne

I thought of my Dad’s hands today. Something on TV triggered it and I could see them as clear as day. He had smooth, flat nails and wore a signet ring. He’s been gone for over 40 years.

It’s one of the joys of being on the other side of 50 (yes, I am on the other side of 60 now, but this started a long time ago) that you have such a great stash of memories that come back at you in a random fashion. Most of us are lucky enough to have had relatively happy lives and so these unexpected memories usually either fill us with warmth or make us laugh out loud.

Recently, I remembered being shown through the posh suite in one of Seattle’s best hotels. It was at a company do and I was in my twenties. As we passed through the large, lush bathroom and noticed the phone on the wall above the toilet paper – keep in mind this was in the pre-cellphone 1960’s – we were told that Elvis Presley had stayed in this suite while making “It Happened at the World’s Fair”. To this day, when you mention Elvis I have the mental picture of The King sitting on the throne with a phone in his hand.

Another Blog

It seems to me there are way too many people with blogs and I am very much afraid I may turn out to be one of them. But at the risk of sounding like a motivational speaker, I’ll never know if I don’t try.

I have so many things I would like to share with friends as well as strangers - not the least of which are my opinions. I have photos, artwork, quotations, ideas, collections, and passions that are crying for a bigger audience.

Be prepared to read a great deal about England, authors and handwork of all kinds. Expect a fair of amount of nonsense.  But this will not be a totally girly-blog, as I also have a passion for rusty bits, buffalo and architectural detail.

I hope to have something to post at least once a week. I hope you will enjoy it enough to invite your friends to join me.

If this turns out to be a success, I will owe it to Amy (who always applauds anything I do) and Patty (who won’t rest until I do something like this).

And if this turns out to be an utter failure, in the words of Samuel Beckett, “No problem. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”