The Day of Opening

Not just of the Don Julio - finally, and which was/is tremendous and a staple of all future liquor cabinets - but my time on the traveling road itself. Seems strange, sitting here in this office (all desk space strewn with miscellaneous printouts) a few months after the call, looking at the items hanging on the walls and reminiscing over these potent drops of goodness. The Halifax fog overpowering out the window, hiding the future courses of action from site with a knowing enthusiasm. Dali and Briggs, Warhol and the Annotator, Team Newfoundland and Great Speeches in History, Oxford from Hinsley's Hill, a namesake's Pools on a Salmon Stream and the Triangle's Fat Ballerina. All glorious. Speaking both to what has past and to the shape of things to come. Weddings and funerals, Fridays and birthdays that the spinning of the globe make so.

"He who shall simply sing, with however glowing enthusiasm, or with however vivid a truth of description, of the sights and sounds and odors and sentiments which greet him in common with all mankind - he, I say, has yet failed to prove his divine title. There is still a something in the distance which he has been unable to attain. We have a thirst unquenchable, to allay which he has not shown us the crystal springs. This thirst belongs to the immortality of man. It is at once a consequence and an indication of his perennial existence. It is the desire of the moth for the star." - Poe.

Oh - June 5th, thou day of openings, how you make me think and breathe and smile. We sing in remembrance and in anticipation of thee.