A few days ago, I thought I heard Bobby Kennedy's distinctive voice very faintly, but I could not get an inkling of his purpose, so I checked out "This Day In History" sites on the internet. Zilch, nada, blanko, zip - unless you count International Museums Day....
Ann: Hi Bobby. Well, that was a futile exercise.
Bobby: Did you think I needed a prompt?
Ann: I always think I am making you up so I had better provide you with something to say.
Bobby: (Smiling) I had many problems, Ann, but finding something to say wasn’t one of them. I loved the English language, its many twists, turns, shades, and eloquencies available for every possible occasion.
You just looked that up [the word, "eloquencies"]. You really don’t trust me, do you?
Ann: Oh yeah, I do, just thought I heard the word wrong, still do. That wasn’t quite the word you wanted, was it?
Bobby: No. We need Richard Burton to give us a lexicon of alternatives.
Richard: Did I hear my name? He meant "elegancies."
Bobby: Thanks, Richard, ole pal o' mine.
Richard: A friend in life you were, Bobby, a brother in arms now - and still a confederate in our love of language.
We came together in our appreciation of the multiple and eloquent iterations, tones, and colours offered us by the English language, infinite and infinitesimal nuances providing exquisite and personalized avenues of connection.
Sometimes what we are trying to say comes out correctly here and sometimes not so much. Ann cannot always hear an exact word or phrase. Sometimes she writes something that is either close in sound, as she did here, or close in meaning. Such are the vagaries of translation.
Bobby: Many of us here have gotten out of the habit of speaking, of using words for meaning since they are unnecessary, even cumbersome, for communication, and so our transmission is often not as clear as we would like.
Do not be concerned, Ann, if, as you listen with your energy and let your fingers transcribe what you hear, that you may make mistakes or imagine the connection, for we can always find a way to get through, much like tonight when you heard very faintly the dulcet tones of my nasal Boston accent.
I can see that you are expecting Richard or myself to offer up some great truth or an epiphany for your blog, but really I just came by to say hello. You have been pushing the edges of your consciousness, hoping to hear words or see signs that tell you where you are going and when you will get there, but it just doesn’t work like that.
Even I, knowing in my bones that my life would be taken in the same manner as my brother's, could not see where it would lead. So I saw injustice and tried to right it and called it sufficient unto the day thereof - then the next and the next and the next until the end. That is all that anyone is asked to do. We follow, not lead.
And when my last day came, I knew John and Martin would be there, I knew I had finished the course as best I could, and I was relieved that my burdens had been lifted.
Then I awoke to the ongoing work for the next millennia. You might think that would be daunting, but actually it gave me great joy to see that we have something still to work for, that we have not given up and collapsed in a heap, and that we are still trying to make things better - and that indeed we are succeeding in spite of some appearances to the contrary.
So that is what we are up to on this side of the veil, and it is a great joy to join with others in that work .
John McCain: Right on, brother.
Bobby: Wouldn’t you know it, here he comes again. One thing I have to say for you, John, is that you never, never, as in never, give up. And, since we’re marching along together in the same parade, I guess that’s a good thing.
John: You mean you don’t like being harnessed up to an old plow horse like myself?
Bobby: I didn’t say that, John. It’s a great honor to prance along beside your plod.
John: Yep, we have a little something for everyone. And get Burton over here, he’s got a little class pasted over those hardworking roots of his.
Richard: Thank you, John, you do have your own way with words....
But to the point, we have all come here by different roads, but each of us has come to tell the truth in whatever language is most accessible to whomever tunes in. We say the same thing, sing the same song and in enough variations so that it can resonate with anyone who cares to hear.
Bobby: We speak the truth. There is one Creative energy.
Richard: There is one cosmos expanding in brilliance and despair,
John: And we will follow that road until everyone sees their own path,
Bobby: And can hear their truth spoken in their own tongue,
Richard: For they will have then added their voice to the heavenly chorus.
John: And those harmonies will lift us all above the tides of Babylon.
Bobby: And we will each claim our own place in the expanding cosmos with joy and gratitude for the Creative Force that made our little speck of the starry night.
Richard: .... Any one for soft shoe?
May 18, 2020