Alone in My Private Glory
When I worked for Homecrafts, I went to a trade show
and manned a booth. The place was full of small business owners
selling goods. The smell of lamb, roasting on a spit, the pennants
snapping in the breeze. Fiesta! Compare feast. Festival. Fête.
Feast of Flowers (Pascua
Tarpon Springs the jacaranda were in bloom. It was May. There was
a seafood festival at the sponge docks. I took the boys with me.
I bought an O. D. woolen Greek Fisherman’s cap and put a Kurt Schwitters
Centennial merz pin on it where the brass would go.
Nobody has ever asked me what merz meant, or said,
“Are you a Kurt Schwitters fan?” I am alone in my private glory.