https://pixabay.com/en/orchid-orange-blossom-bloom-flower-3778816/
***
ENJOY LOOKING AT THE FLOWERS
***
Look at the flowers
Instead of just creating
A f**king haiku
***
***
Free davidbrucehaiku #11 eBook (pdf)
Free davidbrucehaiku eBooks (pdfs)
Free eBooks by David Bruce (pdfs)
Free eBook: YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIND
Free eBooks by David Bruce (pdfs) (Includes Discussion Guides for Inferno, Purgatory, and Paradise)
https://pixabay.com/en/adult-tattoos-body-dark-face-1867489/
***
GOOD ADVICE
***
Don’t take no sh*t from
Bullies, *ssholes, losers, and
Most of all, yourself
***
***
Free davidbrucehaiku #11 eBook (pdf)
Free davidbrucehaiku eBooks (pdfs)
Free eBooks by David Bruce (pdfs)
Free eBook: YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIND
Free eBooks by David Bruce (pdfs) (Includes Discussion Guides for Inferno, Purgatory, and Paradise)
• When she was a child, Joanna Kathleen Rowling, aka Jo, became friends with two kids in her neighborhood: a brother and sister named Ian and Vicki Potter. Ian liked hijinks and dares. He once dared Vicki and Jo to run through some wet cement—they did. Of course, Ian and Vicki’s last name became the last name of J.K. Rowling’s most famous literary creation: Harry Potter. As an adult, Ian read the Harry Potter books out loud to his children. He remembers how he, Jo, and Vicki would play dress-up when they were kids: “And nine out of ten times, it would be Joanne who had the idea, and she’d always say, ‘Can’t we be witches and wizards?’” J.K. Rowling’s own last name has led to her having lots of nicknames: Jo Rolling Pins and Miss Rolling Stone. When she taught English as a second language in Portugal, her students sometimes sang the theme song from the TV series Rawhideto her: “Rolling, rolling, rolling … keep those wagons rolling!”
• When pitcher Greg Maddux broke into the major leagues with the Chicago Cubs, he received the nickname “Batboy” because of his youth. In 1987, he acquired a new nickname. In the 8th inning of a tie game with the San Diego Padres, Mr. Maddux was put on base as a pinch runner. Shawon Dunston hit to left with Mr. Maddux on second base with two out. Mr. Maddux rounded third and headed for home, where it looked like he would be thrown out. Benito Santiago, catcher for the Padres, bobbled the ball, and Mr. Maddux slammed into him for the run. The Chicago Cubs won the game that day, and Mr. Maddux’ teammates started calling him “Mad Dog.” (And the press started calling him the “Baby-faced Assassin.”)
• Before becoming a famous comedian, Sid Caesar was a jazz saxophonist. He played with Gene Krupa’s band, along with pianist Teddy Napoleon and Teddy’s sister, Josephine, who was the vocalist. One day, Sid, Teddy, and Josephine were driving to a gig, and a police officer stopped them. Teddy was driving, so the police officer looked at his driver’s license. He was amused by Teddy’s last name, Napoleon, and Sid laughed and said that his name was Caesar. The police officer looked at the only woman in the car and said, “And I suppose you’re Josephine.” Teddy’s sister replied, “Yes, how did you know?”
• Mary Effie Lee was serious about her writing. In fact, at age 11 she wrote a “novel” that was all of three chapters and four pages long. Actually, she is better known as Effie Lee Newsome, the name under she published collections of poetry for children such as Gladiola Garden: Poems of Outdoors and Indoors for Second Grade Readers. When she married the Reverend Henry Nesby Newsome, she took his last name and dropped her first name. Why? She explained, “Because four names in a row would be like the long row of houses on our street in Philadelphia.”
• Mikey Rocks and Chuck Inglish make up the Chicago rap duo known as the Cool Kids. Actually, “Mikey Rocks” is a pseudonym. His real name is Antoine Reed, but he chose his stage name because of his youthful hero-worship of NBA star Michael Jordan. When Mr. Reed had to choose a stage name, he regarded it as an opportunity: “As a little kid, I would try to change my name to Mike, like write it on papers and I would tell my mom to call me that but she wouldn’t do it, so I just saw this as my opportunity to have the best name that I could possibly have.”
• Teenage mega-pop star Miley Cyrus was named Destiny Hope Cyrus at birth, but her always smiley face led to her being nicknamed first Smiley and then Miley. After becoming a huge star in Disney’s Hannah Montana TV series, she had her name legally changed to Miley. Her father is country singer Billy Ray Cyrus, best known for “Achy Breaky Heart,” and Miley has always been around music. Her first memory is of an all-star concert where superstars such as Aretha Franklin made a fuss over her.
• Chicago-born artist Judy Cohen ended up choosing to use a different name: Judy Chicago. She worked in California, and because she had a heavy Chicago accent, lots of her fellow artists called her Judy Chicago. In addition, lots of artists in Los Angeles used underground names in the telephone book listings, so Judy used “Judy Chicago.” Her name does have a major advantage. When she returns to Chicago and tells people her name, they exclaim, “What a great name!”
• Robert Towne wrote the screenplays for such classic movies as Chinatown and The Last Detail. His paternal grandfather had worked as a tanner in Minneapolis, Minnesota, but left because of the cold winters and came to California. In San Pedro, he opened a women’s clothing store that was named the Towne Smart Shop, and when people started calling him Mr. Towne, he began to use “Towne” as his surname and passed the name down to his descendants.
• Like other actors, Archibald Leach took a new name. He had played the role of a character named Cary Lockwood, so he took the name “Cary.” He needed something shorter than “Lockwood” so it would easily fit on a movie marquee, so his movie studio produced its list of short, Anglo-Saxon names that it kept on hand for actors with Archie’s problem, and Mr. Leach read down the list, decided that he liked the name “Grant,” and so he became Cary Grant.
• When Elizabeth Taylor was 14 years old, she became a sensation by starring in the movie National Velvet. When renowned portraitist Yousuf Karsh arrived to photograph her, she was playing with one of her newest pets: a cat. Mr. Karsh named the cat Michael. The next day, both young Elizabeth and Mr. Karsh was on the MGM studio lot, and Elizabeth had her cat with her. She called out to Mr. Karsh, “Look who I have with me: Michael Karsh Taylor.”
***
Copyright by Bruce D. Bruce; All Rights Reserved
***
David Bruce’s Lulu Bookstore (Paperbacks)
David Bruce’s Amazon Author Bookstore
David Bruce’s Smashwords Bookstore
Chapter 24 – Of Pacquette and Friar Giroflee
Upon their arrival at Venice Candide went in search of Cacambo at every inn and coffee-house, and among all the ladies of pleasure, but could hear nothing of him. He sent every day to inquire what ships were in, still no news of Cacambo.
“It is strange,” said he to Martin, “very strange that I should have time to sail from Surinam to Bordeaux; to travel thence to Paris, to Dieppe, to Portsmouth; to sail along the coast of Portugal and Spain, and up the Mediterranean to spend some months at Venice; and that my lovely Cunegund should not have arrived. Instead of her, I only met with a Parisian impostor, and a rascally abbe of Perigord. Cunegund is actually dead, and I have nothing to do but follow her. Alas! how much better would it have been for me to have remained in the paradise of El Dorado than to have returned to this cursed Europe! You are in the right, my dear Martin; you are certainly in the right; all is misery and deceit.”
He fell into a deep melancholy, and neither went to the opera then in vogue, nor partook of any of the diversions of the Carnival; nay, he even slighted the fair sex.
Martin said to him, “Upon my word, I think you are very simple to imagine that a rascally valet, with five or six millions in his pocket, would go in search of your mistress to the further of the world, and bring her to Venice to meet you. If he finds her he will take her for himself; if he does not, he will take another. Let me advise you to forget your valet Cacambo, and your mistress Cunegund.”
Martin’s speech was not the most consolatory to the dejected Candide. His melancholy increased, and Martin never ceased trying to prove to him that there is very little virtue or happiness in this world; except, perhaps, in El Dorado, where hardly anybody can gain admittance.
While they were disputing on this important subject, and still expecting Miss Cunegund, Candide perceived a young Theatin friar in the Piazza San Marco, with a girl under his arm. The Theatin looked fresh-colored, plump, and vigorous; his eyes sparkled; his air and gait were bold and lofty. The girl was pretty, and was singing a song; and every now and then gave her Theatin an amorous ogle and wantonly pinched his ruddy cheeks.
“You will at least allow,” said Candide to Martin, “that these two are happy. Hitherto I have met with none but unfortunate people in the whole habitable globe, except in El Dorado; but as to this couple, I would venture to lay a wager they are happy.”
“Done!” said Martin, “they are not what you imagine.”
“Well, we have only to ask them to dine with us,” said Candide, “and you will see whether I am mistaken or not.”
Thereupon he accosted them, and with great politeness invited them to his inn to eat some macaroni, with Lombard partridges and caviar, and to drink a bottle of Montepulciano, Lacryma Christi, Cyprus, and Samos wine. The girl blushed; the Theatin accepted the invitation and she followed him, eyeing Candide every now and then with a mixture of surprise and confusion, while the tears stole down her cheeks. No sooner did she enter his apartment than she cried out, “How, Monsieur Candide, have you quite forgot your Pacquette? do you not know her again?”
Candide had not regarded her with any degree of attention before, being wholly occupied with the thoughts of his dear Cunegund.
“Ah! is it you, child? was it you that reduced Dr. Pangloss to that fine condition I saw him in?”
“Alas! sir,” answered Pacquette, “it was I, indeed. I find you are acquainted with everything; and I have been informed of all the misfortunes that happened to the whole family of My Lady Baroness and the fair Cunegund. But I can safely swear to you that my lot was no less deplorable; I was innocence itself when you saw me last. A Franciscan, who was my confessor, easily seduced me; the consequences proved terrible. I was obliged to leave the castle some time after the Baron kicked you out by the backside from there; and if a famous surgeon had not taken compassion on me, I had been a dead woman. Gratitude obliged me to live with him some time as his mistress; his wife, who was a very devil for jealousy, beat me unmercifully every day. Oh! she was a perfect fury. The doctor himself was the most ugly of all mortals, and I the most wretched creature existing, to be continually beaten for a man whom I did not love. You are sensible, sir, how dangerous it was for an ill-natured woman to be married to a physician. Incensed at the behavior of his wife, he one day gave her so affectionate a remedy for a slight cold she had caught that she died in less than two hours in most dreadful convulsions. Her relations prosecuted the husband, who was obliged to fly, and I was sent to prison. My innocence would not have saved me, if I had not been tolerably handsome. The judge gave me my liberty on condition he should succeed the doctor. However, I was soon supplanted by a rival, turned off without a farthing, and obliged to continue the abominable trade which you men think so pleasing, but which to us unhappy creatures is the most dreadful of all sufferings. At length I came to follow the business at Venice. Ah! sir, did you but know what it is to be obliged to receive every visitor; old tradesmen, counselors, monks, watermen, and abbes; to be exposed to all their insolence and abuse; to be often necessitated to borrow a petticoat, only that it may be taken up by some disagreeable wretch; to be robbed by one gallant of what we get from another; to be subject to the extortions of civil magistrates; and to have forever before one’s eyes the prospect of old age, a hospital, or a dunghill, you would conclude that I am one of the most unhappy wretches breathing.”
Thus did Pacquette unbosom herself to honest Candide in his closet, in the presence of Martin, who took occasion to say to him, “You see I have half won the wager already.”
Friar Giroflee was all this time in the parlor refreshing himself with a glass or two of wine till dinner was ready.
“But,” said Candide to Pacquette, “you looked so gay and contented, when I met you, you sang and caressed the Theatin with so much fondness, that I absolutely thought you as happy as you say you are now miserable.”
“Ah! dear sir,” said Pacquette, “this is one of the miseries of the trade; yesterday I was stripped and beaten by an officer; yet today I must appear good humored and gay to please a friar.”
Candide was convinced and acknowledged that Martin was in the right. They sat down to table with Pacquette and the Theatin; the entertainment was agreeable, and towards the end they began to converse together with some freedom.
“Father,” said Candide to the friar, “you seem to me to enjoy a state of happiness that even kings might envy; joy and health are painted in your countenance. You have a pretty wench to divert you; and you seem to be perfectly well contented with your condition as a Theatin.”
“Faith, sir,” said Friar Giroflee, “I wish with all my soul the Theatins were every one of them at the bottom of the sea. I have been tempted a thousand times to set fire to the monastery and go and turn Turk. My parents obliged me, at the age of fifteen, to put on this detestable habit only to increase the fortune of an elder brother of mine, whom God confound! jealousy, discord, and fury, reside in our monastery. It is true I have preached often paltry sermons, by which I have got a little money, part of which the prior robs me of, and the remainder helps to pay my girls; but, not withstanding, at night, when I go hence to my monastery, I am ready to dash my brains against the walls of the dormitory; and this is the case with all the rest of our fraternity.”
Martin, turning towards Candide, with his usual indifference, said, “Well, what think you now? have I won the wager entirely?”
Candide gave two thousand piastres to Pacquette, and a thousand to Friar Giroflee, saying, “I will answer that this will make them happy.”
“I am not of your opinion,” said Martin, “perhaps this money will only make them wretched.”
“Be that as it may,” said Candide, “one thing comforts me; I see that one often meets with those whom one never expected to see again; so that, perhaps, as I have found my red sheep and Pacquette, I may be lucky enough to find Miss Cunegund also.”
“I wish,” said Martin, “she one day may make you happy; but I doubt it much.”
“You lack faith,” said Candide.
“It is because,” said Martin, “I have seen the world.”
“Observe those gondoliers,” said Candide, “are they not perpetually singing?”
“You do not see them,” answered Martin, “at home with their wives and brats. The doge has his chagrin, gondoliers theirs. Nevertheless, in the main, I look upon the gondolier’s life as preferable to that of the doge; but the difference is so trifling that it is not worth the trouble of examining into.”
“I have heard great talk,” said Candide, “of the Senator Pococurante, who lives in that fine house at the Brenta, where, they say, he entertains foreigners in the most polite manner.”
“They pretend this man is a perfect stranger to uneasiness. I should be glad to see so extraordinary a being,” said Martin.
Candide thereupon sent a messenger to Seignor Pococurante, desiring permission to wait on him the next day.
***
Free davidbrucehaiku #11 eBook (pdf)
Free davidbrucehaiku eBooks (pdfs)
Free eBooks by David Bruce (pdfs)
Free eBook: YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIND
Free eBooks by David Bruce (pdfs) (Includes Discussion Guides for Inferno, Purgatory, and Paradise)
davidbruceblog #2 