The Way to Peppartree, and Other Problems [26 Apr 2004|08:38am] On the way to Peppartree, which is spelled incorrectly, I found a silicon trispe imbedded in a patch of grass about fifteen feet south of Grant Isle Avenue, and eight or nine feet west of a 1972 VW Bug that was up on blocks and probably had been for years. You just can't tow it if it's on blocks, unless you want to spring for the tires, and screw that, I say. The trispe caught my attention because it reflected a sunbeam into my eyeball and caused an amount of discomfort irritating enough to draw my frown to the left, where the trispe, as I said, was embedded in a patch of grass. It was little. I would have missed it if not for the beam. And is a trispe important? Not in itself. The point here is to stay focused on one thing at a time, and not go bouncing around from Mary to pogo and back to fury. That's important, and the kids get a kick out of it. I have never had any use for a trispe. When Farias was appointed Chairman of Duke in 1983, and Lippmanshire simultaneously was appointed Wellington of Harmony, everyone was sure a boom in the trispe industry would immediately follow. Farias was a manufacturer of thread and butter, while Lippmanshire's business was tectonics. The two were natural allies, and this did not escape the interest of several well-placed electorate officers. They thought there had been a set up, and probably they were right. To the casual reader, the marriage of those two industries might seem neither profitable nor destructive, but the omnipotent clearly see that thread, plus butter, plus tectonics is a recipe for doom. All this was before my time. Of course, there was no trispe boom, democracy was saved, and the houses of Farias and Lippmanshire soon faded into obscurity. And, as I say, I never had any use for a trispe, until I had the small honor of meeting Professor Lippmanshire at his lecture in Peppartree this week. He was there to speak about the merits of hydroelectric gasoline, or something similar to that. To be thoroughly honest, I really didn't pay much attention to the words he used, but his tone was inescapable. He thundered with anger in one minute, then rollicked good-naturedly in the next. Had I listened closely to three or four sentences, I may have been able to pluck out his position. But, in my own way, I was only able to discern that he was highly in favor of it (his position). At the end of his lecture, Lippmanshire noticed me in the crowd and wandered up to say hello. Once again, it was difficult for me to follow what he said, but my ear for tones is my triumph. I could tell that he was extremely impartial to make my acquaintance. At one point during the course of his conversation, Lippmanshire pressed a small trispe in my hand and mentioned something in secret tones. At that, he took a look over each shoulder, then winked at me and disappeared in the direction of the coffee machine. So, when I suggest that, although I've never had use for one before, I have some use for this trispe now, it is not to say that I know exactly what that use is, but only that I acknowledge that the trispe is useful for something, which may not be of concern to me. post comment

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