Words that make me stop in my tracks
I stop for words on the street. Like the day a couple of summers ago on the 103 St bike lane when page 70 from Shaw's Pygmalion lay face up on the asphalt. Liza Doolittle Day I picked up the loose page and, standing over my bike, read the scene where Henry Higgins tells his mother he has picked up a girl. Mrs. Higgins: Does that mean that some girl has picked you up? Higgins: Not at all. I don't mean a love affair. Mrs. Higgins: What a pity! I remembered how Shelagh shared her love of musicals when we met. Camelot. My Fair Lady. She taught me that West Side Story was Romeo and Juliet. And the day last summer in the north end when I pedalled across scattered pages from the Book of Psalms. Old Testimony I stopped and retrieved Psalm 33: The Lord frustrates the purposes of the nations; he keeps them from carrying out their plans. I smiled. Still in the news that week was criticism of U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions's retreat to St. Paul (not t...