I should have learned by now: When there are no new comments, the Publish function has misfired again. Sorry.
A friend who knows my interest in cycling asked if I’d like to join her and her family for their annual bike trek to the Fisher Mansion for the free Sunday-evening dinner put on by the Hare Krishnas, who now occupy the 1920s-era Mission-style building. Lawrence Fisher was quite the swell, and if the Krishnas’ belief in reincarnation has legs, it’s amusing to think whether he’s somewhere on another spiritual plane, contemplating the scene outside his former home.
Tonight, a birthday party:
Actually, more than one. I think four cakes were presented and sung over. The Hare Krishna birthday song is in the familiar tune, but wishes “Hare Krishna to you,” etc. But there are three verses, the Hare Rama and another I couldn’t identify. Which meant, three verses times four cakes with all the accompanying ceremony, that the food was late. We’d already had an extended discussion with one of the Krishnites, so I felt I’d earned my dal. Alas, no dal. Nothing even Indian, except for a few samosas. Two pasta dishes, a soup of some sort, and birthday cake.
And then the ride home, under the rising full moon. It was chilly, but I banished it with hard pedaling and the mantra: hare krishna hare krishna krishna krishna hare hare hare rama hare rama rama rama hare hare. It made the miles slip by, I’ll say that for it. I also wondered if we have eternal souls, if we must pay a karmic debt for eating animals, as they believe. Strange to think of arriving in hell and greeting a crowd of angry cows, pigs and chickens. (And one goat. But I didn’t know what I was eating!) And a few deer. The HKs don’t do heaven and hell, so I’m mixing my religions here a bit. Forgive me.
One note to the folks in robes: If you turn that abandoned boat down by the canal upside-down, you might observe a dramatic improvement in your mosquito problem. I swatted more than a dozen, increasing my karmic debt only a little.
Oh, and because we mentioned it while we were eating: Steve Jobs used to go to his local Hare Krishna temple for the free food when he was young and poor. It led him to his trips to India, among other things. This was the Steve Jobs Memorial Bike Ride to the Hare Krishna manse.
Sucktastic Monday, so a quick jump to the bloggage:
There’s a year-round haunted-house attraction in Niagara Falls called Nightmares Fear Factory. Evidently there’s a spot on the tour where you get your picture taken. The pictures? Are fantastic. HT: Hank.
The recession is over, but you’re still poor, right? Join the club.
And now, because it’s Goddamn Monday, I must run. Hare Krishna to you all.