Hello, Hal! Please let me know the correct grammar, etc. for the following:
Of course, Bill — please go ahead and share the text you’d like me to review.
It is I who feels the need to thank you, not you; or, It is I who feel the need to thank you, not you; of, It is I whom feels the need to thank you.
While casually venturing about the countryside today in my fully electric automobile and while listening to the news on SiriusXM – CNN, MSNBC, NPR, POTUS, BBC, FOX NEWS and PATRIOT – I could not help conclude that the predominant theme of Americans is, “You too can be like me if you try!”, a convincing conclusion without the contaminating benefit of either argument or fact. Certainly without fact! More importantly – the assertion of discredit upon others for whatever useful reason, preferably advanced with metaphoric trumpets akin to the music of Aaron Copland or Jeff Beal, “evoking the vast American landscape and pioneer spirit”.
Sitting at my desk, sipping an espresso, munching a sliced apple and staring at the sublime picture of rustic beauty stretching in precise rows of yellow cornstalks to the horizon, I am in awe of the fortuity. I have listened to jazz all day, including memorable renditions of classics on SiriusXM’s Real Jazz as well as the romantic interpretations of Beegie Adair from the American Songbook.
Making deals, settling argument, agreeing to hear another viewpoint, adapting to an alternative, choosing not to challenge others instinctively – these are accommodation. Adjustment is the essence of the profitable arrangement. By contrast history tells me that hardened policy most often attracts only further alienation and intransigence.
I’ve just come off a lengthy confab on the telephone with my erstwhile physician. He recently returned from overseeing his properties in Sarasota, Florida. Today he was languishing with his old dog Findlay (better known as as “Finn”) on his country estate in nearby Village of Ashton. As you can see from the “featured image”, it was late in the afternoon that we conversed. Though the sun sets earlier each day, he tells me several days are already preserved for golf in the Scottish tradition of moderately cool temperatures anticipated around 11°C.
Before anyone other than a professional animator had heard of Apple™, I bought my first computer. I’m guessing it was around 1984. I had frequently attempted to defuse the need to have one. My argument was, or so I thought at the time, convincing. Having, as I did, a template for many of the forms I regularly employed in my business, it was only necessary to put the template through the Xerox photocopier, then type in the names of the parties. As for the production of multi-page documents such as wills and powers of attorney, we had IBM memory typewriters – the latest stenographic rage. And I could rely upon Dye & Durham and the government to produce a wealth of fill-in-the-blank forms for common usage in corporate and real estate documents.
My old friend Louis de la Chesnaye Audette, QC OC – who “ate like a bird” – frequently quipped, “The best sauce for any meal is an appetite!” Normally that dismissive adage is a predisposition difficult to challenge. But every so often, upon patting the white linen napkin to one’s lips and pushing back from table with a contented groan, the culinary stimulation is more inventively artistic and less uncompromisingly visceral. This evening was one such an event. And I have my partner Denis to thank for the accommodation.
Rain was forecast all day. Early this morning at 6:30 am In the dark and drizzle we nosed the Cadillac northeastwardly to the Queensway Carleton hospital in Bells Corners. The object was a bone density test.
There are incalculable topics beyond my comprehension. Even so some of those arcane matters have intriguing though not immediately recognizable identity. This disturbing monologue from a former law school roommate and current professor of law in Paris, France is an example:
The seasons and rituals have a lot in common: they are both repetitive (the one quarterly; the other less balanced though equally compelling); they both mark different patterns; they are both elemental (the one Natural, the other Human); both are celebrated by ceremony and tradition; and they are both unavoidable. For reasons I cannot explain it was 2 o’clock this morning when I went to bed; then it was 8:30 am this morning that I awoke in order to go to the golf club for breakfast. Neither time reflects my ritual. The unreasonable side of it all is that I willingly slumbered and arose at such conflicted hours. The circumstances hadn’t demanded the abuse. I wasn’t having trouble sleeping or digesting. My consumption of pharmaceuticals had not changed. Nor had the time advanced or retired. It was simply an unforeseen detail of the schedule at hand; namely, to memorialize the annual close of the golf club. Except for private functions arranged with the caterers the club will shortly close for the season. It is a ceremony we’ve observed for many years, the inescapable dénouement of another memorable season which, in the Canadian vernacular and among the aficionados of golf in particular, is the summer. The season this year been marginally longer than normal. We’ve enjoyed a frightfully warm autumn. But today – with the practice of the ritual – we have embraced what is possibly the last yet almost imperceptible change of the season. To punctuate the event today we received, in addition to the customary well cooked nourishment, a singular note of thanks for our support from Chefs Wendy and Chris MacDonald. It is a keepsake already carefully stashed among our memorabilia.