The Same Old Story or Tales of Bold Ulysses


I wrote,  “So, the furniture comes from France. It is crazy really, most of this stuff has been around the world  3 times. France to US in 2001, US to France  in 2007, France to US in 2010. I have some of the best travelled chairs around. They have a lot of miles.”

So let’s add to that, San Francisco to Okinawa 2011. I feel a bit sorry for my furniture. So much time on boats. As Samuel Johnson remarked, “A man in jail has more room, better food and commonly better company.” Do my chairs feel neglected, my carpets uncared for, my lamps unloved?

A trifling sum of misery new added to the sum of our account

Ripped from comfort, wrapped up by rough handed laborers and sent off once again who knows where? The dull throb of the turbines in the dark,  the wretched cold, the sea swept across the schooner’s low decks, living off a few olives and perhaps a piece of Portugese ham sausage.

Nothing to sing but songs, Ah well, alas, and alack, Nowhere to go but out, Nowhere to come but back. I am sorry Big Red.

The furniture has reached safe haven. The anchor is down, the cargo discharged .

There is nothing so distressing as running ashore - unless there is also a doubt as to which continent the shore belongs

There is a world of difference between being outward bound by choice and homeward bound by necessity

Lor, Brer Rabbit, you don't know what trouble is. I'm de man what kin show you trouble.

And now me lads we’re all in dock. We’ll be off to Dan Lowry’s on the spot, And there we’ll shop a big pint pot. Jenny get your oatcakes done.

So, I am truly sorry my dear furniture to have put you through so much travail. But what is this I hear  from the chest of drawers?

“Come, my friends,

‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are,
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”

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1 Response to The Same Old Story or Tales of Bold Ulysses

  1. Alan says:

    Good to see the old cutlery canteen in pride of place, well, it looks proud in its place.

    Have you heard a Norwegian version of Whip Jamboree?

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