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Come up and see me - make me smile, If you're falling- I'll put out my hands If you feel bitter- I will understand - I love you-I am the milkman Of human kindness- I'll leave an extra pint
‘Random acts of kindness’. I think it is an interesting idea that being kind would be a random act, rather than being the norm, behaviour-wise. For a human that is. Most humans. This is not to take away from the idea, and I recommend people try it all the time.
The simplest form of a random act of kindness, is the greeting of strangers in the street. Many billions of years ago, whilst taking the morning air, people would say “Good morning, what a fine a day it is today!”, and smile with lots of teeth showing, possibly followed by a bow or cart-wheel. These days, everyone avoids eye contact (in the cities most specifically), for fear of the ubiquitous – “What the fuck are you looking at?” being lobbed swiftly their way. Sad, but true. I propose we start a movement, and reintroduce some civility to Earth.
I have noticed that older people seem to appreciate the words the most and can take a sad, sometimes almost angry-looking individual, who has lived for many, many decades, from walking down a bleak street, packed with potential dangers, to a completely different place, as their face lights up, and positively blooms with a wide smile, returning the greeting, often sounding surprised, always, clearly pleased; I get the feeling they feel lighter of foot – there is hope for the human race, maybe everything isn’t just a giant turd covered in cheap gold paint, maybe I won’t be mugged, but hugged!
Indeed.
Of course a greeting is merely the tip of the eleemosynary iceberg. There are many, many ways to be kind. You should be aware however, that this is not an altruistic act. (Sonmi wrote ‘altruistic cat’ then by mistake and has had to take a moment to laugh like the proverbial drain). The pleasure gained from giving, be it time/effort/pear drops, is hugely underestimated, if realised at all, by some bipeds.
One day, if you are kind enough, for long enough, you will rise to join me on the Cloud, where I reign as The Most Supreme, Vainglorious, Imperious, Yet Modest, Queen of the Universe.
And you’ll always find a smile awaits you.
Unless you are a prize rampallion, who has been as a Medusa in servant wench’s clothing, (or male equivalent, time’s ticking on here and I have hail to make), – for then, I do desire that we are better strangers.**
**nicked from Shakespeare
A truly supernal, smile-producing disquisition, and I have, for the very first time in some three score hours of mild debilitation of a kind caused by unidentified pathogens – the type issuing from outer space, I heard tell by some local purveyor of nostrums; in other words the ubiquitous U.F.P.’s – involuntarily bared all three of my teeth to a contumaciously unresponsive, fugacious presenter of your world, to wit, an irrefragably un-flattered flatscreen called ‘Dell’, which same, should it continue with its etiolating manner, shall meet its fate, carried solemnly away, some might say ‘fittingly’, in my neighbour’s Reliant Robin.
That said – enfin! – I must further congratulate the authoress, herself a monarch of the clouds as well I know, on the excellence of her construction, meaning not her tangible form, and which same remains forever no more than the subject of this reader’s respectful curiosity, it being the means by which, doubtless to say, smiles issue forth of such radiant lucency as would surely seal the fate of Dell-boy, but of her word forms; and this, I say, in no small measure due to the third paragraph nestled in the above text, which, but for the omission of the full-stop following the thirteenth word, and in substituting it with the simple conjunction ‘and’, would have produced a paragraph of no less than five score words. sonmi here – I have taken measures and implemented this fine idea, in order to have the paragraph flow all the better- thank you H
Wondrous work dear queenie, and the visual accompaniment is perfection – Barry the king no less – although as doubtless you know, this same tune was also the B-side of a 1977 single by The Carpenters, and which went by the title “Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft”, a tune which, should my memory serve me well, has some resonance for you your majesty.
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By all the Gods H, you have pulled out the stops here, given them the polish of their life, and sent them on a cruise around the Mediterranean, with a free buffet to die for, matched in quality, only by the can-can girls available for any performance called for, any time of the day or night, at said stops pleasure, in this magnificently crafted comment!
Marvellous! And thank you so very much, ya crazy, but most beloved of nuts.
Your memory serves you very well so far as said song goes, for it has featured in at least two of sonmi’s posts, and the same amount of comments left elsewhere by myself and the Cloud.
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Your astute observation and your title also were thankfully close enough to unlock the name of a book I’d been trying to remember without success recently namely the superb Random Acts of Heroic Love by Danny Scheinmann. Two pluses from one post…not bad in my book!
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Thank you kindly good sir, I cannot argue with two pluses, for it is a fine start to a dhal. No, that’s pulses. But all the same, this is a very good review and the thanks is warranted. bows. And although there are no direct connecting words, the book you name has me in mind of a favourite of mine also – The Horrific Sufferings Of The Mind-Reading Monster Hercules Barefoot: His Wonderful Love and his Terrible Hatred – by Carl-Johan Vallgren.
Three pluses. nods.
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I shall check those out forthwith…nothing like a spot of dahl to keep one regular I find…certainly of better taste than my late father’s preference for prunes…wish that thought hadn’t struck for the old boy tortured us with prunes and/or the daily, ‘Where’s my prunes I’ve post them’ routine!
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Every day, business day that is, I walk 2 miles through downtown Louisville during my 30-minute lunch. That’s correct, two miles in 30 minutes, or less. Not bad for an old stinker, eh. Done it for years, walk that is. Also, every day I . . . well, never mind that, it’s irrelevant but it does keep me fit. I too notice that people avoid eye contact as they pass by. I always figured they were afraid I’d ask them for some spare change or bus fare. Anyway, here’s my observation, which excludes the regular street people who always extend a greeting to any and every one. Younger and middle aged white women never make eye contact, at least with me; rare is the exception. However, middle aged black women and senior white women over half the time (I figure it’s a mercy greeting). Males of any race or age, hardly ever. Kids and babies always look up and smile. Oh yes, and dogs of every size and bred strain their leash to extend a friendly sniff for a pat on the head, that while my other hand hovers over my groin area for the appropriately positioned dog. Better safe than sorry I like to think.
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“Not bad for an old stinker” – Stinky-poo eh? You’re in luck Peter, for sonmi has a very limited sense of smell (completely true), not that you would be chucked off the Cloud for smelling like a man. Or a woman, or a gooseberry pie for that matter.
“Also, every day I . . . ” – all exercise is good, oiling the wheels, greasing the monkey, panning the cake making things up now, palin the drome, balling the melon, thumbing the tack, it all makes for a healthy, happy body and mind. Spiritual too. Possibly. edges off the stage.
Your observations have highlighted omissions in my original text, because you are absolutely right about gender and age. Now I am older, I will look chaps of all ages in the eye, though I am less likely to greet the younger ones. I have always done the same to men over fifty (ish), I’d say, but recall a time as a younger gal, when I didn’t want the attention gained by eye contact with males younger than that. I could deflect it, but didn’t have the time to be bothered. “(I figure it’s a mercy greeting).” – pish and tish, you’re a good looking chap Peter, we’ll have none of that talk on the Cloud, I’m sure you don’t wish end up without any sticky buns for the rest of the month, again. nods It’s interesting hearing it from a male’s perspective, especially the ‘male to male’ experience, (gives H a warning look).
Children usually look blankly at me, but stare a great deal, however, should I hang around to speak to their parents for any reason, they are then drawn to me, as though they have me down as some sweet-monger, ready to deal out sherbet dips, and cola drops for the price of a tantrum in the right place, at the right time. I trust them no more than cats.
“to extend a friendly sniff for a pat on the head, that while my other hand hovers over my groin” – I have to tell you Peter, this does not read well at all, taken out of context. Therefore I have done just that, and highlighted it in bold, because it completely cracks me up. Better safe than sorry indeed.
–
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Yeah well, when you say it and bold it like that, sure. But let me tell you, I speak from a Doberman going for the nuts experience. I must tell you about it someday. Until then, know that his attempt was unsuccessful; otherwise I’d be typing this with a rather high-pitched tone.
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Good grief, then you are wise indeed to protect your family jewels! Sniffing is one thing, taking a bite steps over the line. Or so I’ve been told. I’m glad you are fully intact Peter, well as ‘all there’ as any of us are anyway smiles.
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I had this idea (years ago) when I was hardly more than a (damn) kid (some swore they could detect a small amount of wetness behind my ears) that if (somehow) the music of ABBA could be broadcast across the globe (for an unspecified amount of time(perhaps in perpetuity)) peace would settle over the land and the people would live in harmony (much like the illustrations you might see inside a pamphlet left at your door by those witnesses of Jehovah. Sadly, as is obvious to anyone not consumed by darkness, this never happened for reasons I can’t mention except to say it’s the fault of people you most likely cannot stand.
-The President and Founder
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It is their fault, and I’ll stand up and swear it if you need me to, though only from upon the Cloud as I am a bit tied up with jam-making at present. Especially due to the Cloud’s insistence on having only ‘seed-less’ jam. By ‘jam’, I mean ‘jam’ and not ‘jelly, which is ‘jelly’.
ABBA. If only we could type the word with the first ‘B’ backwards. How different a world might we live in? I ask you?!
sonmi the Cloudy one
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Well Tubularsock doesn’t live in the Clouds so to Tubularsock a good solid, “What the fuck are you looking at?” greeting seems comforting. That is because is lessens the chance that you’ll be shot by that stranger.
Hell, sonmi next you’ll be advocating that one should go out and make friends!
With that attitude we could end war! And then what would our country stand for?
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I’m a radical, a subversive even. It has been said before. I admit, and you should be aware now, before you get in too deep, I may be trouble…
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Thank you for the storm warning sonmi. Tubularsock has a fortified umbrella for such cases but never thought for a nano-second that you were a push-over-cloud!
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laughing – I know you’ll have my back when the zombie apocalypse strikes/come the revolution Tubularsock. nods
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