There are some phrases you just don't want to see in the morning before you have had an adequate amount of coffee.
One is "pregnant sea dragon." Yahoo flung that one at me while I was trying to check my email. They like to brief you on weird world events, and one today concerned a pregnant sea dragon, which really isn't an image I want in my head, at least not this time of day.
Another is "emergency demolition." That was in the paper, which I read when, head still spinning over the pregnant sea dragon, I went out on the porch to drink my coffee.
I should not be writing the biography of Leonard Pennario. I should be in the demolition business. I would be like Warren Buffett! Here in Buffalo, anyone in the demolition business surely has as much work as he or she can handle.
The latest is we're losing that horse stable on Jersey. It was, er, not stable. We say the owner is unstable. Wow, this is like Shakespeare! You could go on forever like this.
But I don't want to joke. This loss makes me mad. I spent so many pleasant afternoons in the shadow of this stable's sky-high brick walls. My friend Peggy Farrell, the jazz singer, lives behind it on "Little" Summer Street. We would sit on her patio, and just admire that brick-wall, ivy-covered, age-old. And the front of the place was so lovely, and whimsical, too, for such a massive edifice. I should ask Pennario about it. He grew up in that neighborhood. I'll bet he remembers it. It would have been old when he was a kid.
Why do we have to lose everything??? This case is especially discouraging because the people who owned this place and let it run down aren't absentee landlords. They are prominent local citizens. This stable fell down in plain sight.
Appropriately enough, today is the feast of St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost objects.
I wonder who is the patron saint of pregnant sea dragons.