There are few opportunities to deploy clever comebacks. Usually, the moment passes, and I think of the perfect response afterward. The French phrase “L’esprit de l’escalier” describes the experience of knowing the ideal reply later. Believe it or not, we have an obsolete phrase in English that encapsulates the same idea: “afterwit.” I vote we bring it back.
This morning, I proudly used a comeback promptly.
One of the late-nighters stood by the eternally malfunctioning soda dispenser. These denizens of the night are sometimes called zombies because their higher brain functioning dissipated at least six hours earlier.
“You look familiar,” she said.
“I don’t know how. I’ve been in prison for twenty-two years.”
The late-nighter missed the humor in my reply. The clerk looked up and tried not to smile. She’s accustomed to my idiocy. People have a variety of mistaken beliefs about me, all of which I actively encourage.
“I’m sure I’ve seen you before,” the late-nighter added.
“Well, I used to be in a LOT of adult films.” I didn’t crack a smile.
As I left, the late-nighter asked the clerk, “Who the hell WAS that?”
While crossing the parking lot at Harps, I thought I heard someone calling my name. Either that or they were reciting the alphabet. You can’t quite be sure in Fayetteville.
It was my cousin Diane. She said she had a surprise for me and asked me to drop by her apartment.
She gave me this brooch. It’s either a beetle or a butterfly from her mom. The wings are spring-mounted, much like my feet when I spot an unattended coffee bar.
I walked out into the ocean yesterday onto a sandbar. The water should’ve reached above my waist. Instead, it reached my ankles. Onlookers from the beach no doubt thought that it was an illusion. I was in the water looking for seashells for Erika. She spotted the sandbar from the beach. I’d seen a couple of jellyfish, but it was the fast-moving fish occasionally darting around me that were startling. I’d hoped the oceanside rim of the sandbar held more seashells.
One of the best moments was watching Erika toss bread into the air. The birds materialized from nowhere, hovering two feet away, awaiting their morsels. One of the birds marched along with us as we made our way down the shoreline; he was one of those illusive Optimist birds.
This morning’s early walk was cold. It might have been fifty but the brisk wind found every available means to give me the shivers. It’s hard to complain. All these warm November days were a blessing.
PS Acetaminophen (Tylenol) reduces your ability to empathize. One of those bits of trivia that people don’t seem to be aware of.
‘Cheer up, Ed. This is not goodbye. It’s just I won’t ever see you again.’ – Frank Drebin…
Yesterday was a day of rain and piling clouds. I took a long walk before it started. Later, we walked along the beach looking for shells a couple of times until the rain started. Erika has covid; early Monday I tested negative but my congestion said otherwise.
We watched the first 15 episodes of the nostalgic TV show The Waltons. We also watched the storms through the huge wall length windows next to us.
This morning I got up too early and decided to get dressed and take a long walk immediately, even before I had a cup of coffee. One of the visiting neighbors nearby set off his car alarm at least ten times. I doubt the late night vacationers appreciated the 2:00 a.m. wake up calls. (Except for the sadomasochists, of course.)
Tomorrow morning it will be 20° cooler. A reminder that the warmer weather has been a privilege.
I woke up the roosters and was out of the hotel room within 10 minutes, after dressing in the mostly dark room. For reasons I can’t remember, it seemed important to get dressed before going out.
Magee, Mississippi gave me the opportunity to be a stranger in a strange land. It’s one of my favorite things. To wander the dark roads and streets of places I’ve never been and will likely never be again.
With luck, the ocean will be in sight later today. I don’t think I’ve returned since my last visit somewhere around 25 years ago. I’ve lived a couple of lifetimes since. I love the big moments and the epic sights. Who wouldn’t? I still feel like the stolen moments and carved out spontaneous experiences make up the bulk of our lives.
With the exception of the main highway, I owned all the streets this morning. Not a single car passed me. The main highway of course is dotted with people in a hurry to get somewhere else, even at 4:00 in the morning.
I’ll be one of them later.
I grabbed a cup of coffee on the way out of the hotel lobby prior to my long walk. I’ll bet a million dollars that the cup I get when I go back in will taste immeasurably better.
It will be the same coffee. But I’ll be a little different.
This is personal. As is everything I write and post. I don’t duck behind sharing other people’s memes or messages. As imperfectly as I express myself, I’d rather be misunderstood for making the attempt.
I’m not pointing the finger as an accusation. I’m pointing it because if you don’t make the effort to connect with people who disagree, you’ve already failed. So many of us have friendships and family members who are going to have a difficult time for the foreseeable future.
The law of entropy affects everything, including human systems of governance. No matter how much work you put in, things can dissolve and dissipate without warning. Apart from that, we’re standing on lava and spinning through the universe at an incalculable speed.
One thing that people don’t like to acknowledge is the logical inference that results from their claim that God or their deity endorses or blesses their candidate.
If God is for your candidate, it follows that he is not for the opponent… that the preponderance of their beliefs and behaviors are endorsed by or align with the creator you worship.
I am 100% a believer in non-interventionism. Whatever shape or form a deity takes in your mind, I’m certain based on the evidence that we were set in motion to solve our own problems with the resources and intelligence that we have.
Many things that we take for granted were once angrily and violently endorsed by God. At least according to some proponents of each mistaken beliefs. Whether it’s the pronouncement that owning other human beings was acceptable or whether half the population, depending on gender or race, were less than equal and therefore ineligible to vote or own property.
To have been wrong about such fundamental beliefs and rights should be the clearest possible indication that people are quite often wrong. Insisting that their creator endorses something has a huge track history of error.
No two denominations or people believe alike. From there it degenerates into cherry-picking which parts matter, or to whom it applies.
As for the current state of things, my head hurts when I consider that people endorsed someone with such an obvious track record of objectionable behavior. Factoring in the allegation that their deity favored such a person goes against my identity as a member of a democracy. That much more qualified and human candidates should have been chosen goes without saying.
I can’t fathom how the message of hope and brotherly love translates into a candidate who in no way embodies the essential nature of the predominant religion in our country.
Those of you who mistakingly believe that we might not have voted for a conservative simply because he or she was a conservative are mistaken. We would have opted for George Bush (either father or son) over the presumptive president-elect. Part of that is because despite their flaws, they honored the pledge to democracy and rule of law. They certainly would have still done ill-advised things, but none of them would have undercut our democratic principles unilaterally in the way that the president-elect has and will again.
It’s a dangerous thing to equate God’s endorsement to a person or set of beliefs. History taught us that.
We have collectively decided to eff around and find out.
Such a collision of God and politics has never resulted in a balanced democracy.
I left Señor Conejo on Michael’s car. Michael returned to the job he left recently at the inconvenience store, so it seemed appropriate to leave him a head-scratcher of a surprise.
Señor Conejo has adorned the inside corner of my landing post for a couple of years. It came to me because a friend had ordered it from a Temuesque online store. (Where expectations seldom intersect with reality.) I took some time to fix it, paint it, and adorn it with a wild assortment of a doodads. Chris P. Bacon and Redactyl, my personal weather dinosaur, both still stand guard along the banister rail.
Señor Conejo undoubtedly was growing concerned with some of the wild neighborhood shenanigans he has witnessed from his perch above the parking lot.
In one way, I hated to part with Señor Conejo. But it’s time for a renewal. Giving away these personal things capriciously gives me a little pause.
Then I look up into the early morning sky and realize that one day ownership and sentimentality must ceed their claim to whatever comes next.
The greater our reluctance to step aside, to yield, or to change, the higher the probability of dissatisfaction and unhappiness becomes.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 