Saturday, March 3, 2012

Saturday commute lvii: Sharing the burden of the quiet

for our native

                   Every now and again one would
                   feel honour-bound to pile into
                   a cranky red Alfa and commute
                   to Carmel, 90 miles from Tele-
                   graph Hill, to visit the sec-
                   ret of her quiet, even at the
                   beach, even at the Bach Fes-
                   tival, at least in the Par-
                   titas. The pacific atmosphere
                   was exacerbated by the prox-
                   imity of Fort Ord, site of a
                   an intelligence academy for
                   recruits the US Army really
                   was not allowed to accept,
                   my dearest friend in life
                   among them, whose musical
                   ear for Hungarian, Russian
                   and other Cold War tongues
                   allowed for unadmitted bend-
                   ings of the rules. Our lin-
                   guistic infantry could gain
                   liberty on most weekends,
                   and took to it well.

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