Tahoe Pine Nuts: An ode to women and Mother’s Day
Special to the Bonanza
There is nothing I enjoy more than jumping in headlong and writing about a subject for which I have great passion and know nothing about.
Today is just such a sunny day, and the subject is women, about which I know little or nothing, but have acquired worlds of knowledge at second-hand.
Allow me to begin with that great philosopher, Dean Martin, who said, “I spent 80 percent of what I made on women. The rest I wasted.”
And let us hear from a top woman logician, Patti Page: “It’s clear why they only served bread and wine at the Last Supper. It was a pot-luck, organized by men.”
George Burns weighs in on this scene with his observation, “If they had been all women at the Last Supper, they’d have had separate checks.”
George, God rest his merry soul, used to call me on my birthday. On that last year, his hundredth, before he was called up to glory, I asked him, “George, I understand you’re still going out with young women … why?”
“Because their stories are shorter.”
Then there is Mae West’s choice of men: “I like two kinds of men, foreign and domestic.”
But my favorite words about women come from the most recent American to win the Nobel Prize for Literature, and now with a new novel just published, God Help the Children, Toni Morrison: “I love to see a young girl go out and grab the world by the lapels. Life’s a bitch. You’ve got to go out and kick ass.”
A women’s peace march across the Korean Peninsula is planned for the 24th of May to appeal for a permanent peace treaty to the world’s longest war. This could be the start of something big.
Just here, I yield to Mark Twain and his feelings for the wife he adored, his wife of 34 years, Olivia…
“I was born reserved as to endearments of speech and caresses, so hers broke upon me like the summer waves break upon Gibraltar. She had a heart that was tropically warm. It is in the heart that the riches lie. A loving heart is riches, riches enough, without it intellect is poverty, and Olivia possessed a heart of finer metal than any gold that was ever mined or minted.
Blessed be the moment that brought us near together and taught me to know the goodness of her heart and the sweetness of her spirit. Whoever fell within the influence of her beautiful nature was her willing slave forevermore. If ever there was a man who had reason to be thankful for divine providence it is I. I’ll say this about Olivia … wheresoever she was — there was Eden.”
I suspect that until the hand that rocks the cradle also rocks the executive office of 200 countries we will continue to crowd around fights in the school yard, and continue to wage internecine wars.
In closing, I’d like to dedicate a toast to all moms, here and above, on the advent of Mother’s Day, “The strongest love in the world, stronger than the love of one dead drunk for another, is the love of a son for his mother. Here’s to our mothers, the guide posts to heaven.”
Learn more about McAvoy Layne at http://www.ghostoftwain.com.