Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Something Spinellish Is Around.

When you walk past a gaggle of pre-teens waiting for the school bus and they call you spinellish, you can't be sure it's a compliment. Adolescents hate the idea of standing out in a crowd. Conformity to a clique is the rule. When you are spinellish, you aren't the nail that gets hammered down. You are the nail that makes the carpenter bang his thumb.

Sometimes the breeze off Long Island sound smells spinellish. It smells faintly like green tea and honey mixed with aspic and soy milk. It isn't cinnamon or clove or lemon zest. If it resembles any spice, it is closest to a hint of nutmeg.

A butterfly is spinellish while a seagull is not. A moth and a pigeon are spinellish, but not a mosquito or swan. New London, Conn has become a little spinellish in the last year. There is something spinellish in the air, something spinellish on the streets. People have begun to take on spinellish habits and to talk in spinellish ways.

A spinellish storm is brewing today. The clouds are expected to open at 8:00 PM tonight at Kream Coffeehouse, 318 State Street, New London, of course. An umbrella won't protect you.

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