I've long wanted to live on Cypress Avenue in the city of Belvedere. No, it's not about a specific place, but about the names alone that stir my imagination. Belvedere, from Italian, is of course a structure designed to command a view. It is also the name of an exclusive community-town in these parts. I don't know if there is a Cypress Avenue in this Belvedere.
'Cypress Avenue', on the other hand, was a track on Van Morrison's classic LP album Astral Weeks, an album which took me a while to appreciate when it came out, and then only after I heard Morrison's next, more accessible album Moondance. An acquired taste, Astral Weeks was.
There is a one city block short Cypress Street, which I passed walking home today, and which reminded me of these absurd longings. There is also a Belvedere Street in our neighbourhood, which doesn't offer interesting views, but perhaps it did a century ago or so when it was first established and was surrounded by fields.
What I share with my frequently seen acquaintances are memes and private jokes that just the two of us understand, as they recall some earlier good times, earlier jokes or quasi-philosophical observations, and are now repeated under new conditions and contexts to brighten up the day and to re-establish the bond between us. Some recent ones: "You already know how to fish!", "Don't be so humble, you're not that great!" There are others.
Seeing a BMW and Benz one after another zipping through a corner STOP sign yesterday afternoon during that walk I mentioned above, I wondered if people who run STOP signs so cavalierly have better lives than mine, who doesn't (run STOP signs), and if they do, why. (Life's not fair!) Perhaps the secret of a happy life lies in a character trait which includes among its manifestations a casual disregard for common rules.
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