on the other side of the world

i checked two books out of the library yesterday and had read them both by the time i got home later that evening. the first i read whilst sprawled in the grass at UW (my new favorite haunt, and just about the only lawn in seattle i trust to lay upon). it described ways people have dealt with modern cultural annoyances- the honku, spray-painting un-picked-up dog shit gold, stuffing meters (the anchorage parking fairies were mentioned).
the second, a book of contrasting linguistic quirks, i read over a very strong gin & tonic at the mecca. several languages have no terms for specific colors (the shona of zimbabwe have no terms for 'blue' or 'green'); others define all colors as either black or white (for example, 'green' is considered 'black' and red is 'white' for the dani of indonesia). the author surmised lithuanian as the most difficult language to comprehend; after seeing other examples, i would be tempted to nominate navajo.
the lights at the mecca pool upon the tables, interrogation-style. i have a lot of past with that place. it still smelled horrible, the waitress called me 'darlin', and the jukebox blared judas priest and tool.
and then the raucous crowds diminished a bit and i was the only one on the diner-side of the bar, me and my book on a sultry friday night, stabbing the lime absently, and this was the soundtrack:
"remember when i moved in you and every breath we drew was 'hallelujah'?"