The power of the internets

Well, this is the one hundredth post on this blog.  It seemed kind of momentous to me, so I wanted to wait until I had something spectacular to say before I got around to writing it.  Luckily, something spectacular happened yesterday.

Maybe you'll remember a few months back when I wrote about receiving someone else's subscription to Entertainment Weekly magazine?  That person was named Marcus Mungiole.  I was wondering why we were receiving his magazine every week, suddenly, after living in that apartment for 3 1/2 years.  I gave him the old half-hearted Google search, which turned up nothing, so that was that.  Well, whom should I get an email from this weekend but Mr. Mungiole himself! 

It seems he stumbled upon the post I wrote about him, and it made him laugh.  I couldn't believe it!  Fortunately, he was not upset about the fact that I went on and on questioning his identity for three paragraphs.  He verified that he was a previous tenant in our old apartment about 10 years ago, and would you believe that the SAME harpy neighbor was yelling at him even way back then?  Amazing!  So Marcus and I are now email buddies, and he was kind enough to forgive me for not following through with my promise to turn over back issues of his magazines since they were recycled during The Great Move of 2010.

That, my friends, is the power of the internets!  And in honor of this auspicious occasion, I would like to leave you with one of my favorite poems.  You all know it- just be impressed I was able to refrain from posting it this long.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

That little horse is so darn cute.

Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening

-Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

This poem always evokes images of the holiday season for me.  It brings to mind the frantic planning, the travel, the shopping and just general noise of the outside world.  Of course none of that is in the actual words Frost wrote, but we sense it because the woods are so quiet in the snow, the horse's harness bells ring out.  There's a special kind of quiet when the world is covered in snow, isn't there?  It's almost like everything is padded in a sound-proof room.

This traveler is expected someplace, yet he wants to linger.  Maybe he has to visit his in-laws and he wishes he could stay in the woods forever.  When I read this poem it feels like taking a deep, calming breath.  Next time I am standing in the security line at LAX, I'll think of it and try to forget the "miles to go before I sleep."

Happy Thanksgiving and safe travels.