From the miscellaneous drawer - Each time

I hankered after the post-war Paris, the world of Sylvia Beach.
Of Hemingway and James Joyce and Rue de I’Odeon.

And I was too late.

I yearned to touch upon the jazz world of Bricktop in Rome
and learned that Rome had become a mecca for movie stars and tourists.

I was too late.

In San Francisco I arrived just as the beat generation howled upon the world’s stage
and modern music sounds enticed disconnected listeners to small intimate clubs where the music accumulated in their psyche.
And it seemed I was again too late for that which it had engendered, had birthed as a sound.

The years which followed crumpled up my life, pushing me to the edge of my existence,
working to make me more malleable, more adaptable to everyday living.
But when it was done, when the pummeling was accomplished, it was not enough.

And now, though this is not Paris nor Rome or San Francisco or London, it is where I need to be.

And it is time.
* * *
In the Ely Echo of March 18, 1996, twenty years ago, the headlines were:
• Three-member contingent addresses Ely area issues, concerns at State Capitol
• A changing of the guard: Fitch ousts Pipho from Morse board
• Milkovich elected to Fall Lake board
• Two elementary positions eliminated; district could get taconite aid for building renovation
• Wolves dominate home speech meet