The Writer's Life 4/27 - Football & Michelangelo

I used my remote control more than usual last night, trying to catch the NFL draft as the picks were being announced, avoiding the accompanying hot air analysis. An estimated 100,000 fans attended the event at the Cowboys home field. Although I'm no longer passionate about sports, I found the enthusiasm uplifting, very cool. I enjoyed how commissioner Goodell, the most overpaid man in America, perhaps the world, was booed each time he approached the podium. I believe the Giants and Jets each made the right choice. Of course, there are no guarantees. #1's have flopped before and will do so again. The Browns did what I would have, selecting Heisman trophy winning QB Baker Mayfield with the top pick. Now they will hope he doesn't turn out like another number one of theirs, Johnny Manziel.

I'm not a big fan of poetry, but during the past three weeks I've watched parts of 50-minute bios on three famous poets broadcast on the City University of NY's channel, 75 on Cablevision. I suspect I'm self conscious about my lack of appreciation for the art, so I forced myself to watch. The subjects were William Carlos Williams, Marianne Moore and T. S. Eliot. The latter, an American, moved to Europe and eventually settled in Britain. His first success came in 1915 when Poetry magazine published The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, which runs 20 stanzas. Here's a summary I gleaned from shmoop.com, edited by yours truly: "... a hilariously pointed attack on all well-dressed, upstanding citizens who love material pleasures – their tea and marmalade – more than they love people... It should make you want to drop everything and go tell your secret crush about your feelings... It’s a warning to all procrastinators: if you put something off once, you’ll likely put it off forever. Don’t, like Prufrock, focus on the worst-case scenario..." In the documentary, a recording of part of the poem played in the background, recited by Eliot himself. One rhyme blew me away, lines 13-14 of Stanza II, uncanny in its simplicity and beauty: "...In the room the women come and go/ Talking of Michelangelo..." Eliot also wrote short stories and plays. He was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1948. He died in 1965 at 76.

The scaffold did the trick again, allowing the floating book shop to operate despite the drizzle. My thanks to the smart shopper who purchased two James Patterson thrillers, and Donnie Brasco: My Undercover Life in the Mafia - A True Story by FBI Agent Joseph D. Pistone.

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