To bring into the loop those of you who did not read my previous mentioning of this.... habit of mine... it consists of my simply asking the Starbucks people if I can have some of their nicer store posters when it comes time to dispose of them.
They used to be very generous and obliging with me.
They are not so, anymore.
When I inquired as to where this “cold shoulder” approach to their own garbage has come from, it was explained to me that several people had been doing what I do, and then SELLING the ill-gotten artwork on places like e-Bay and whatnot.
“Really?” I exclaimed, and added, “I assure you that my intentions are more devoted, more sincere, more honest, less..... lucrative, more....... desperate!”
But to no avail.
There is no swaying a dedicated Starbucks barista.
Official policy is that they no longer are allowed to give their promotional posters away.
So I have taken to stealing them.
No, just kidding.
The ones I will show here are old old ones, gotten about a decade ago, in the heyday of less stringent restrictions. [I blame 9/11 for these new unreasonable measures, really.] They appear on EVERY wall of my apartment. I got them professionally laminated so they are like actual paintings you would buy at an art store. Or... on e-Bay.
Here at Puddle-Headquarters, everywhere you look, you see the Starbucks logo. My goal is one day to have one of the round green signs....
Then, yes. The tattoo on the forehead.
I know. I have issues.
I really do.
The first work of art I am revealing here on bookpuddle, is my favorite one. It is this portrait of the great English curate, Sydney Smith.
In case you cannot make it out, he said: “If you want to improve your understanding, drink coffee.”
My God, that is good preaching.........
I have just done some research this afternoon on the personage himself. He is an incredibly fascinating character, and so witty.He lived 1771–1845, and was an English clergyman, writer, and wit, ordained in the Church of England in 1794. In 1798 he went as a tutor to Edinburgh, where he studied medicine, occasionally preached, and with Jeffrey and others founded (1802) the Edinburgh Review. His brilliant contributions were a strong factor in the periodical’s success. Moving to London in 1803, Smith lectured on moral philosophy at the Royal Institution and became a well-known figure in literary society. His “Peter Plymley” letters (published anonymously in 1807–8) in defense of Catholic Emancipation were the first of his many appeals for religious toleration. Oh, I love that. Religious toleration. Preach it Sydney old boy!
In 1809 he moved to Yorkshire, where he landed a job as a pornographer’s apprentice. No, seriously, I made that up. Disregard that statement.... I just said it to make sure you are paying attention. Where did I leave off? Oh yeah.
In 1809 he moved to Yorkshire [land of pudding?] where he had been given a living of £500 a year. [That’s a lot of dough, for back then. The guy was not hurting financially].
There he also acted as magistrate and village doctor. He went to a parish in Somerset in 1829; in 1831 he was given a residentiary canonry at St. Paul’s. Later in life, he inherited 50,000 pounds [that is VERY heavy] when his brother something-or-other died and left it to him.
Smith’s religion was strong and of a practical nature. A lover of justice and truth, he was a life-long defender of the oppressed. His failure to rise higher in the church is attributed to his wide reputation as a master of wit and satire. He is placed among the premier English wits and has been compared to Swift and to Voltaire.
I accumulated the following little witticisms of this fascinating man. Aren’t they awesome?
Among the smaller duties of life I hardly know any one more important than that of not praising where praise is not due.
Madam, I have been looking for a person who disliked gravy all my life; let us swear eternal friendship.
Never talk for half a minute without pausing and giving others a chance to join in.
No man can ever end with being superior who will not begin with being inferior.
Thank God for tea! What would the world do without tea? - how did it exist? I am glad I was not born before tea.
What you don't know would make a great book.
All in all, I am proud to have this guy against the wall! [so to say].
Stay tuned.
I will be showing you more of my interior decorating skills........
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