leaving Lilliput

Please read the following as if they were true: I'm 9 years old -- I'm 15 years old. I'm 21 years old. I'm 27 years old. I'm 34 years old. I'm 40 years old. I'm 56 years old. I'm 72 years old. I'm 89 years old. I'm old.

Now let's turn to these lines that I have been hearing until now:

I'm too old for that hair cut. I'm too old to learn another language. I'm too old to make new friends. I'm too old to change careers. I'm too old to go back to school. I'm too old for a divorce. I'm too old for a trip to Egypt. I'm too old for a karaoke night. I'm too old to miss a parent. I'm too old to accept help from anyone. I'm too old to be in this position, I should be there, and further there. I'm too old to eat 15 cookies for breakfast. I'm too old to be in a close-up photo. I'm too old to pursue that thing I haven't been able to forget. I'm too old to dance around on my front lawn... What will the neighbors think? (Who cares what the neighbors think. You don't like talking to those jerks anyway.)

~~~

Dear Home: About this word "old."

Quantos anos voce tem? From Brazilian Portuguese to English: How many years do you have?

Quel age avez-vous? French to English: What age are you?

Quanti anni hai? Italian to English: How many years do you have?

~~~

Dear Everyone and All:

I would like to say that for me the only thing that gets old is milk. Why are we paying the bills for these words that keep getting passed around? Who told you that you're too old? Did someone pull you aside and lightly put it to you? I hope not. If someone did, I have to sadly say that person isn't helping.

In regard to change: Nope I can't say that it's never too late because at some point it will be. But why trim down possibilities and freedom ahead of time? That's like pausing a movie at the most important part. (Every part is the most important part.)

About the next thing. The next thing is scary. It's a challenge. And it wouldn't be the next thing if it weren't. It's going to make you cry. It may make you say curse words. .... But what else is there?

~~~
Thank goodness for old milk. 'Cause what would we do without cheese?
~~~
p.s. I:   I'm speaking to myself about this too.
~~~

Susie

As of late I've noticed a woman seated on a low wall half a block away from the colosseum who sells these handmade animal figures that are made of palm tree leaves. So far her orgami-like collection consists of frogs, scorpions, birds, and turtles.

I'm not sure how many times I walked past her until I made the decision to stop. I chose a bird. A small crowd materialized at the moment of this transaction.

During the walk to the line B metro, people kept looking at the clear plastic bag as if I were walking past with a bag of gold fish.

hop on!

"Bortolucci," a shop in Rome that sells wooden objects such as hair brushes, pencil holders, and clocks has this wooden motorcycle in their doorway.

Ricardo

Friday afternoon at 12:37 Ricardo the horse stood in front of the Pantheon attached to a carriage without an owner in sight. Schools of persons were walking over to pet him, or take a photo with him, or to look upon him with curiosity.

The owner returned with a bucket of water. When Ricardo finished drinking he shook his head from left to right. It seemed he was trying to loosen or lose the metal steering clamp from his mouth, in doing so a long pink tongue spilled out and wagged in the wind. 

Before leaving I asked the owner for the horse's name. Then I asked what Ricardo was doing there. The response: "He's working. .. He takes people around the center." Myself: "Is he here everyday?" The Owner: "He works one day, he sleeps one day."