I am at the other end of life. It happens to
coincide with the coronavirus pandemic,
not an especially friendly companion. I am
isolated from my friends, from grocery
store isles, from the simple pleasures of
strolling in the park and chatting with passer-
bys. It is no fun existing like this. Telephone
calls are not hugs. Emails are not conversations.
Life is moribund. I will die sooner than later,
but before I do, I was hoping to reminisce
with dear friends, go out to eat, have a few
drinks. This is like living on the moon. I
have watched and re-watched all my favorite
movies. I wish I could join Bogart and
Bergman in Rick's Cafe Americain. So what
would it matter if I lost at the roulette wheel.
Sam would play "As Time Goes By." There
would be others with whom I could mingle.
I would not be alone. Perhaps I would have
shot the Gestapo chief. Something, anything,
but boredom bordering on depresssion. If
only I could commiserate with the billions
of other human beings who have not yet
lost their lives to this invidious disease. I
will die soon, more likely from isolation
than from illness.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

You are of the material. I am of the heart.
But you didn't mind making love to me until
4 in the morning, nor, in fact, did I. But I did
propose to you that morning;  indeed, I gave
you my Nacom's ring to wear. You said you
needed time to decide;  after all, you already
had a husband, but that triviality had not
stopped you from calling me Friday morning
asking me to join you for lunch. "Do you have
time?" you asked. I said, "I'll make time!" I
said. It was 10 years earlier when you asked
me--demanded, really--to leave Columbia
and return to Kansas to be with you at KU.
I said, no way, so you found a fellow there
who was to be a doctor, and doctors, if they
desire, can make a lot of money, and that
money can buy a lot of things, material things,
I mean. So you married him instead of me 10
years ago, and 10 years later, despite all the
material things you had accrued--a huge home
in an upscale suburb of Denver, a fancy car,
and God knows how many other material
things--you called me out of the blue ostensibly
to have lunch. Old friends we were, were we
not? I had to wait 6 weeks for your decision.
Finally it came. I heard the first six words
you spoke, and then my mind went numb:
"I like the lifestyle I have...." You had grown
up rich, as had I, but you never changed I
found out in a most painful way. I thought
the reason you had made passionate love to me
until 4 in the morning was because you
realized after 10 forlorn years that it was I you
had truly loved, not this money-maker
medicine man. Well, I was flat-out wrong.
I guess what you wanted were multiple,
great ***** from me, and that's what you got.
I got ****** in the worst way I could imagine.
Don't ever call me for lunch again, I thought,
even in a hundred years. And, by the way, I
took back my Nacom's ring, and my heart.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

You are asleep and I lie beside you. How is it
that you can create tenderness and transcendence
when you are in stillness? Yes, the gentle breeze
of summer's night blows through the open window
and wafts through your golden hair, but you are
deep in slumber, and only the flame of the yellow
candle on the dresser top acknowledges this susurrus.
There is upon us a deep silence as the full moon
slowly makes its way across night's sky. I am now
carefully on my elbow gazing at your iridescent
visage. I turn my head and look at the mirror that
doubles my pleasure. Can I be this blessed even
for a moment? Serenity surrounds us. I lean over
to kiss your forehead lightly. Imagine a lifetime of
bliss, nightimes of joy, sharing with you in silence
the fullness of loving and being loved as the moon
passes by, as the yellow candle's flame flickers
like the vicissitudes of life, but knowing all the
while that gentle breezes will blow all unease and
uncertainties away as the sun begins to rise.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

I have always admired people who were not afraid to be their real selves, who listened not to the prevailing clamor emanating from salons, but to their own hearts and minds. Mary Wollstonecraft (1759-1797) was her own person and was not abashed to state openly and unequivocally her beliefs. Her most famous work, A VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN, championed the notions of reason and education not just for men, but also for women, and for children especially. She was an autodidact, perforce. She was indeed the forerunner of the women's liberation movement, but she also wrote novels, a history of the French Revolution through which she lived, treatises, letters (not postcards) of intellectual substance, even a children's book. She lived an unconventional life, having children out of wedlock, for example. To say she was way ahead of her time is, of course, a huge understatemnt. But the aforementioned are the reasons why I fell in love with Mary Wollstonecraft.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

Gilgamesh--two-thirds god, one-third man--was the despot of Uruk. He treated his subjects cruelly. To ameliorate this abominable situation, the gods create Enkidu, who was reared by animals. At first, Gilgamesh and Enkidu fight, but then become friends. They want to cut down a cedar forest that is off limits to mortals. The forest is guarded by a monster, Humbaba, who serves Enlil, the god of earth, wind, and air. With the help of Shamash, the sun god, the two **** Humbaba, then cut down the trees to make a raft. They float back to Uruk. Ishtar, the goddess of love, falls in love with Gilgamesh, but he rebuffs her. Angered, Ishtar asks her father, Anu, the god of the sky, to punish Gilgamesh by bringing down the Bull of Heaven that creates seven years of famine, but Gilgamesh and Enkidu fight and **** the bull. The gods seek revenge and **** Enkidu. Gilgamesh is forlorn, and in his grief begins to wear animals skins. He wanders through the wilderness. Gilgamesh finally meets Utnapishtim to whom the gods have given immortality, but he won't tell Gilgamesh how to gain immortality for himself. Gilgamesh therefore continues his travels, this time through total darkness, until he finnally reaches the sea with its beautiful surroundings. It is there that he meets Siduri. He tells her about his quest for immortality. She responds by telling him to abandon this quest and to learn how to enjoy the pleasures of what remain of the rest of his natural life. Men would die, but humankind would persevere. Gilgamesh is a changed man. He returns to Uruk and sees the city and its people in a different light. He will find meaning and gratification in the years he has left, and humanity will endure.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

The Internet is now our new party line. Soon, all 7.5 billion of us can join in this global conversation. And this is how it should be, a new world technological democracy. We shall have smartphones enough. We shall have multiple technological ways of of hooking up each to all others. We shall realize, truly, that we are one community, that we are all one, all members of one big and growing family of humankind. Realizing our oneness, we will defeat all efforts of any sort--ethnic, economic, political, and all others--to divide us, to separate us. We all shall be Citizens of Earth. Dictators, tyrannts, despots will no longer exist, because we all are one. Citizens of Earth will govern Earth. And at last, there will be Peace on Earth, forever.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

I am old now. I used to be just smart. Now
I am wise. Living 76 years will do that to
you. Knowledge tells you that all things
are different;  wisdom that all are one. In a
classroom, your goal is to raise your hand
first. To sit on a hillside alone in silence is
to say you are wise, that all the books of
knowledge are in libraries around the world,
but all wisdom of the Cosmos is inside you,
and has been even before you were conceived.
I know that sounds paradoxical, but that is
the essence of wisdom. When you lean back
on the hillside and gaze at the blue sky and
the white clouds and feel the soft breeze
that blows gently across your face, you feel
your omniscience, and your arm is not waving
wildly in the air, but rests serenely at your
side. Wisdom needs not to talk. It is the
silent music of the soul.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howad Hawks