Three things from DAH. 

DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. "If music be the food of love, play on, give me excess of it … "  

First up this week, Love …  
Valentine's Day began the week, so this subject can't be a surprise. Love is an abiding passion that somehow trumps self-preservation and self-soothing. There's a tendency to use the word more liberally, as in: "I love your crochet pajamas!" or "I love your spicy hot peanut brittle!" Exaggeration in order to flatter or for effect. It's unlikely that you've an abiding passion for crochet pajamas or spicy hot peanut brittle. Of course, had you such abiding passions, I would respect them and try not to laugh aloud. Should I laugh aloud, rest assured I'm laughing with joy for the love we share. Loving is reason enough for living, I think. 
Love, Actually: The science behind lust, attraction, and companionship

Second up this week, Lyrics …  
I do love music, but my abiding passion is greater for music with lyrics. I ought to live every day with a song in my heart and on my lips. Sadly, I get distracted. But when pure of heart, when "there's an oh, such a hungry yearning burning inside of me," the singing starts. My first love in the Great American Songbook was Cole Porter. He was one of the few songwriters of his era to consistently pen both music and lyrics. Inextricably bound from birth. The following is likely an apocryphal exchange:

Question posed to Cole Porter: "What is your secret to writing hit song after hit song?"
Mr. Porter's reply: "I merely think of new and different ways to say I love you."

A fine way to live life, set to music, with worthy lyrics.
Night and Day (NPR Weekend Edition Sunday)

Third up this week, Legs …  
I spend most of my wine-drinking-time with people who enjoy wine but don't feel they know a lot about wine (who don't feel they need know a lot about wine). When pushed to speak about wine, they almost all talk about legs. They swirl their glass and watch the rivulets of wine flow down its insides. "Pretty good legs, eh? That's important, isn't it?" Where do these good legs come from? The wine must be very thick and rich, or thin and tart, or high in alcohol or sugar, or the glass might be rather dirty. Checking out legs isn't really useful in evaluating wine. But admiring legs is a natural human impulse. So, why not apply the impulse to wine? For me: Legs long or short, thick or thin, I do delight in life's variety which comes in many guises.
Why men and women find longer legs more attractive

A Book I Just Started Reading: Friendship in the Age of Loneliness: An Optimist's Guide to Connection, by Adam Smiley Poswolsky
I've been focused on friendship lately. More than lately. Written during the current pandemic, this book's short and actionable chapters provide handy tips and reminders. I've an abiding passion for handy tips.

And a bit more:

Windchime, by Tony Hoagland

She goes out to hang the windchime
in her nightie and her work boots.
It's six-thirty in the morning
and she's standing on the plastic ice chest
tiptoe to reach the crossbeam of the porch,

windchime in her left hand,
hammer in her right, the nail
gripped tight between her teeth
but nothing happens next because
she's trying to figure out
how to switch #1 with #3.

She must have been standing in the kitchen,
coffee in her hand, asleep,
when she heard it -- the wind blowing
through the sound the windchime
wasn't making
because it wasn't there.

No one, including me, especially anymore believes
till death do us part,
but I can see what I would miss in leaving -- 
the way her ankles go into the work boots
as she stands upon the ice chest;
the problem scrunched into her forehead;
the little kissable mouth
with the nail in it.


And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver’s poem Sometimes …  

Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it. 

Please share any or all of this newsletter. It's Free every Friday!
If you’re seeing it for the first time, you can subscribe and browse past issues HERE