This Just In...
11.18.11
Dear Ms. Metaphor,
How can I meet someone relationship-worthy in this tiny town with a schedule as crazy as I have? Do you know anyone? Requirements: Smart, kind, honest, and trustworthy. Other qualities I like: sweet, funny, generous, and fun.
Sincerely,
—Looking for Romance
Dear Romantic,
Your smart, kind, honest, funny, generous, Sweet Somebody is waiting for you at the Post Office on Signal Street in Ojai. And your check is in the mail. Maybe.
Or maybe, you will find a Trustworthy Romance in the produce section of Starr Market (but steer clear of the meat counter—that’s too cliché). Certainly, love can show up in the most ordinary places in Ojai. Or extraordinary—you might be at the Beatrice Wood Center right at that moment of shimmer when Happy Valley swallows the sun and the Topa Topas glow like a pixie tangerine dream—then, you might just turn away from all that heated beauty to find yourself looking into the cool blue eyes of True Love. It could happen. It’s bound to happen.
Or you could go online, fill out a form and through the aid of scientific metrics determine which other online seeker would make the most congenial mate. Is that what you mean by “Trustworthy”? Ms. Metaphor, naturally, eschews sensible scientific matches in favor of chance connection, since relationships are a metaphor for connection.
It’s true, Our Town is a tiny town, but this is an advantage to one in the market for an Honest Relationship. Do the things you love, and love will follow you there. Get to know your community and your Best Beloved will soon be in attendance. You just need to show up. And stay true to your mantra (perhaps winnow it down to the top three—for the sake of brevity). How about: Sweet. Funny. Generous. You asked if I knew anyone like that. Yes—sounds a lot like you.
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more . . .”
—Lord Byron, from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
[There is a pleasure in the pathless woods]
❊
And Previously...
6.29.11
Dear Ms. Metaphor,
I have been working in West Africa as a Peace Corps volunteer for over two years now. Among the many things I have seen here is the devastating effect that apathy can have on a society. A lot of people here either don't believe their situation can be changed or they only want to change it by receiving free aid money. There are very few people who are motivated enough to take control of their own lives.
It was for this reason that I helped a village record an album of traditional Moba music to sell as a way to earn money for a donkey and a cart for the community. It’s available at: http://cdbaby.com/cd/moba
My problem is that along with the apathy of Africa, I am now faced with the apathy of America. I have sent the link to dozens of friends and family many of whom seem excited about the project, but no one is actually buying it. It’s only $10 and the album is quite interesting. It appears as though everyone is behind the project until they actually have to do something. Is it just human nature for people to sit dully by and avoid engaging in the world around them? Has the economy gotten so bad that $10 for the chance to hear something new is too much to pay to help another human being to ease their burden?
This project would have been easy to fund through donations but I wonder if that is because one or two people would have donated all of the money and the rest would have done nothing. What do you think it takes for a lot of people to give a little, rather than for one person to give a lot?
—Sincerely Succumbing Progressively Under Duress
Dear SSPUD,
One of Ms. Metaphor’s favorite maxims is, “If you want something done, ask a busy person.” A lessor known addition to that quote is, “The more things you do, the more you can do.” Which may explain why so many people avoid getting involved. Yes, it is human nature to “sit dully by”. However you, intrepid traveler, have chosen the Hero’s Quest. There will be dragons to slay. There is no rest
for you.
Since you want to put the donkey before the cart—no metaphor intended—you must think like a teacher as you educate your apathetic apprentices around the world and inspire them to action. By that, I mean employ a variety of sensory methods in your campaign to get the word, or rather Moba Music out. If your first volley over the Internet wasn’t returned with the gusto with which it was served, send another round—just vary the pitch. Perhaps attach a link to a sound sample of the album. Include a photo of the musicians. Make your message indelible and personal. And give your friends and family time to develop the picture.
“Twenty men crossing a bridge,
Into a village,
Are twenty men crossing twenty bridges,
Into twenty villages,
Or one man
Crossing a single bridge into a village.
This is old song
That will not declare itself . . .”
—Wallace Stevens from “Metaphors of a Magnifico”
You ask, “What do you think it takes for a lot of people to give a little, rather than for one person to give a lot?” There’s no percentage in trying to quantify or question why one person is compassionate, or another one indifferent. The fundamental truth is if it’s more FUN than mental, the more dance partners you’ll have. Turn up the Moba Music and let the party begin!
❊
6.21.11
Dear Ms. Metaphor,
My apricot tree in the backyard is quite laden with ripe fruit. What should I do—they all seem ready at the very same moment. I’ve tried to give some away at work, but everyone else in the Ojai Valley seems to have an abundance of apricots as well. I hate to see them go to waste, but I know little about produce. Should I “can” them? Not in a can, per se, put in a jar, I suppose.
Oh, what would Ms. Metaphor do?
—A Fruit Nut
Dear Fruit Nut,
“ . . .The place where everything loved
is placed, assembled for memory.
The delicate hold and tender
rearrangement of what is missing,
like certain words,
a color reflected off water
a few years back.
Apricots
and what burns. . . .”
You, dear Fruit Nut, are experiencing the metaphor of summer in its most profound form—the Apricot Apotheosis—medallion of the sun! But I digress.
Let us continue with the poem:
“It has obtained what it is.
Sweet with a stone.
Sweet with the concession
of a few statements,
a few lives it will touch
without bruising.”
—Carl Adamshick, from “The Solitude of an Apricot”
The abundance of apricots in your backyard is a divine calling from Gaia to Preserve Summer’s Jewels with this simple recipe for apricot jam from the Thought Palace. Even if you’ve never “put up preserves” your mother and grandmother probably did, and you can too. It’s really quite pleasant; whiling away an afternoon stirring the fragrant umber liquid that will blush and coalesce into cosmos spread on toast. The benefits of such work done in the service of beauty and pleasure will return tenfold in winter when you open the almost-forgotten jar and summer returns to
your senses.
❊
5.14.11
Dear Ms. Metaphor,
I have this problem. I really like this guy, but there is another girl that likes him too. But I feel like this guy likes me. But if he tells me that he likes me then my friend would be mad at me. My parents won’t let me date and I can’t lie to them so I would have to say no to him. But I deeply love him and my friend is an awesome friend. I really love this guy. Even though how weird it is we had lots of history.
Plz help Ms. Metaphor. What should I do???
—Miss Begotten
Dear Miss Begotten,
Well now, since everyone here is friendly, and you all are so likeable and awesome, why not let things just continue in an amicable way? No need to shake-up or break-up or take-up with lies, spies, and alibis. (Leave that to the grown-ups.)
“Like” is such a carefree word—it’s easy to like. “Love “ however, is portentous. Poets know it is a rose with thorns.
“All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.”
—Samuel Taylor Coleridge, from “Love”
For now, stay with your likeable friends and enjoy this easy, breezy time. Don’t rush into love, little darling. Let love find you. Be patient. Be kind.
❊
5.13.11
Dear Ms. Metaphor,
At the risk of abusing the privilege of metaphorical support, I've a question that is perhaps more in the domain of grammar. And yet . . .
I am editing an interview in which a gentleman refers to his deceased brother and the offspring of this brother. These two children are still alive. Initially, the gentleman says, “My brother had two children,” but then corrects himself by saying “has two children.” Which is correct? At some point in the past these children were born. If the act of giving birth can be addressed as “having children” then, having happened in the past, it can be said that his wife “had children.” The brother however most assuredly did not physically experience labor or parturition, so in his case “had” seems inappropriate.
I believe that the gentleman corrected himself out of consideration for the current living status of the niece and nephew. But our language has a significant bias towards considering the deceased to be in the past tense (presumably having lost their own sense of being tense), and so it seems to me that a dead man cannot have children.
Your thoughts?
—From The Editor
Dear Editor,
Even though the dear departed father did not birth his children, he still had a significant role in the process, so yes, he indeed had children. But let’s not get caught up on a corner of syntax.
What would E.E. Cummings say?
“ . . .My father moved through theys of we,
singing each new leaf out of each tree
(and every child was sure that spring
danced when she heard my father sing) . . .”
—E.E. Cummings,
from
“my father moved through dooms of love”
❊