It was the vernal equinox yesterday, when day and night are of the same length. We have had five beautiful days in a row. I was really excited to see that the tulips I planted last October have made their way out of the ground. I can’t wait to see the blossoms of pink and yellow in a few weeks.
In searching for early signs of Spring, I stopped by Mt. Auburn Cemetery. I seem to know exactly where to find those crocuses, daffodils, and the blue or white flowers that I don’t know the names.
Spring is just around the corner. Isn’t that exciting?
Also yesterday, I read a blog post which mentioned Raymond Carver’s What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. I remember clearly that was the only book that our ESL teacher Mr. King made us buy when we took his class. I don’t recall the details of those short stories any more, but I remember that this was a book that I really liked. I lost the book, however, because I lent it to a French labmate, Ann, and she moved back to France. So now I can’t just go to my bookshelf and pick it up and start reading. But I do remember one scene, where an old couple was being treated at a hospital after a severe car accident. The old man couldn’t turn his head to see his wife, and that was killing him. I remember being so moved reading that, and I thought that was definitely love. I found that paragraph online, so I copy it here. You’ll see how abusive the language is, but the emotion is there, raw and fresh:
""I mean, the accident was one thing, but it wasn't everything. I'd get up to his mouth-hole, you know, and he'd say no, it wasn't the accident exactly but it was because he couldn't see her through the eye-holes. He said that that was making him feel so bad. Can you imagine? I'm telling you, the man's heart was breaking because he couldn't turn his goddamn head and see his goddamn wife." Mel looked around the table and shook his head at what he was going to say. "I mean, it was killing the old fart just because he couldn't look at the fucking woman.""
But really, what we talk about when we talk about love? Do we really know love?
Some of my friends didn’t like to go to Mr. King’s class, thinking it was boring and useless. I didn’t agree. I thought it helped me to learn colloquial American English. Mr. King also used pop songs to teach us English. I remember he asked us, which singer’s song do you listen to? I said, Right Here Waiting by Richard Marx. Mr. King was like, who? Hmm, I saw then that what was popular in China wasn’t necessarily popular in the US. One song Mr. King played for us was Take It Easy by The Eagles. I was totally impressed by the lyrics “I’ve got SEVEN women on my mind”. Wow, what a busy man!
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