Piddling in the Puddles, tponetom

PIDDLING IN THE PUDDLES
　
While I piddle in the puddles, there is an ocean to explore.
A fulfilling life beyond normal comprehension.
To delve into the most erotic and esoteric emotions,
To find rewards, incalculable and forever mounting.
To know yourself and understand others,
Is to gain the accumulated knowledge of the ages.
The reward for that knowledge is the most gentle,
And satisfying treasure you will ever hope to gain.
Do dreams like that get washed away like so much flotsam, or is it jetsam?

Not completely, if you are a survivor?

Does anyone know who wrote the above?

Think H2O.

He asks me, do I know Joyce's useless? Now how should I know that when I don't even know the man?

Well, it has more to do with beer than water, but I went right to Joyce's Useless.

When I piddle in the puddles, I think, 'Thank God, my urinary tract is still working.........'.

Finnegan's Wake?
:confused:

I had plenty of puddles to piddle in yesterday.

From Garrison Keiller's column in the Arizona Daily Star, this morning, September 30, 2009.

"What is so disheartening about politics is the 'putzing around in the shallows.'
The shear waste of time - years, decades, spent on thrilling public issues in which the unconservative right fights tooth-and-nail against the regressive left and nothing is gained. It's like a tug-of-war between two trees."

I do not mean this reply as a political statement in any way, shape or form.

It always makes me smile to sense a 'kindred spirit' if only in 'words.'

That would apply to 'PCE' also in his reply [[ # 41) to the post, "Time cover story: the death and Possible life of a Great City." Sept. 24.
It pertains to his grandfather's advice to plant a 'tree'.
Maybe Mr. T. was his grandfather?