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Banbury Cross

a pillow for lost thoughts...

Post details: 101


There are two kinds of clean water. First the kind that started in a river - full of impurities, contaminants and nasty little microorganisms; the kind whose every single molecule had to jump through an elaborate monkey trail of filtration, reverse osmosis and carbon treatment before becoming potable drinking water. And then there is water of mountain streams, the kind that never had any carnal knowledge of organic or inorganic chemistry, the kind that was born from tiny waterfalls and remained pristine and sparkling on its way to you.

There are also two kinds of nice people. First the kind that is born from mainstream, the average human ilk full of its dark thoughts and selfish interests. The kind that reaches a higher moral plateau only through years of schooling and grooming and Mom's attention. And then there are people who are nice naturally. People who do not need etiquette lessons. Their mind is like a sunflower that turns after Sun, paying little attention to the dirty soil in which it is rooted.

My grandfather was like that. He was a simple carpenter, without as much as high school, but his plain view was always more refreshing to me than convoluted manners of other people. He never meant ill to anyone, never retaliated. And it's not because he was so finely raised, it is just that the concept of malevolence was completely foreign to him. I never heard him say a bad thing about anyone. Plotting and scheming wasn't in his dictionary.

He was born on May 16, 1906. He would be 101 today. By coincidence, 101 is also the opus number of one of Beethoven's best piano sonatas, No. 28 in A major. The sonata that is the purest creation among its 31 sisters. A private pool of distilled sunshine.


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