Let the World Slip

(On the golf course, and posting this now at 5 minutes to TFI. Glorious.)

Once again it is Friday, the day with which I am most certainly in love. Another fabulous one scheduled - to the road, 18 holes, then the subtly titled "dinner/entertainment" that promises more fanfare than the bald words suggest. The hope is still for a Saturday matinee escape to the opposite end of the country and the real live spectacle offered by the National Football League. Qwest is no theatre of dreams, but this Sunday it might as well be. As once again we frame the mind toward mirth and merriment. They are not long, the days of Guinness and football. We seize them where we can.

To wit - the Taming of the Shrew's Induction, Scene II. I wonder whatever happened to Christophero upon the player's bows...

Messenger

Your honour's players, heating your amendment,
Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
For so your doctors hold it very meet,
Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,
And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy:
Therefore they thought it good you hear a play
And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,
Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.

SLY

Marry, I will, let them play it. Is not a
comondy a Christmas gambold or a tumbling-trick?

Page

No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff.

SLY

What, household stuff?

Page

It is a kind of history.

SLY

Well, well see't. Come, madam wife, sit by my side
and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.

Flourish