Time. It marches on even when we tend to stumble our way behind it. It is
Tuesday, the last day,
June 30, 2020. I can remember as a kid struggling to keep up with the months and how many days each had. It was a good day when I learned this little ditty. ~ Days in a Month Rhyme: Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November; All the rest have thirty-one, Excepting February alone, And that has twenty-eight days clear, and twenty-nine in each leap year. ~ I seem to remember some who did something with their fists to count off the knuckles and the in-between spaces. I'm pretty sure I no longer remember the rhyme mostly because you reach a point where knowing how many days in the month is not that big of a deal. Opinions run the gamut regarding all things pertaining to COVID. I read a boasting post from a dad of a young child who said even if his child were one of the 1 percent who has died he would still not support what he called the idiotic containment measures. The good news for him is he is not in the 1 percent, but, I'm not convinced losing a child to this disease wouldn't change his opinions. Here is a posting from yesterday by a young pastor who is a friend of mine: "Our member with COVID has gone from thinking he had some sinus irritation last Sunday to being intubated today. His sweet wife, who lost her mom just a month ago, is also positive, but asymptomatic so far. For all of my pastor friends who continually post about how this is all a hoax, how masks are stupid and how you will go whichever way you want in the grocery store, I hope you never have to add to the pain of being unable to care for your members the guilt of knowing your ignorance and gullibility for conspiracy theories could have helped cause it. Look at the actual scientific research, there are 8 peer-reviewed studies that show if we all wore masks in public, it would prevent transmission. Jesus would wear a mask. Your minor inconvenience is not worth risking someone else’s life if you are walking in love. No comments, because I will not be able to control my tongue right now when I reply to you. Just stay home. If you must go out: follow the guidelines the CDC, the governor, and the county have all given. Wash your hands. Look at your ”mask free” posts and knock it off."
The wife pointed out to me that I am more and more moving from one thought to another without changing paragraphs. Whoa! I am so pleased she noticed and her analysis led to a discussion about the current status of my blogging activity. I proferred how randomness has always been a part of the design of my blogs, along with a discombobulated flavor thrown in for good measure. I also told her I am pretty sure I ran out of material some time ago but I've continued on in my continuation. She said she thought maybe they could be a wee bit shorter. Or, she thought I could consider going to every other day instead of five days a week. Her point of reference was yesterday's edition as an example. She mentioned in the first paragraph I went from talking about the rain to a time when it was really dry to a story about the motorcycle guy to questions about the relationship between COVID and the recent protest movement to a desire to see the stats of all the injuries and damages associated with the protests, all in the first paragraph. My response was simple, "Your point?" I immediately thought of that scene from the movie, 'The Last Samurai' where the Tom Cruise character who is a captive has been forced to meet face to face with the chieftain, Samurai Katsumoto who ends with this statement, "I have introduced myself. You have introduced yourself. This is a very good conversation." And, therein lies the problem.
All joking aside, I greatly appreciate her input. Always. As you might imagine, constructive criticism doesn't bother me at all, bother me at all, bother me at all. Sorry, my neck was whiplashing a little on me. It's one of those involuntary response kinds of things. I also thought about the famous lyric from the 1963 hit song: "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to." Most of my meanings are subliminal, therefore, I even miss a lot of them. I am just messing around here. Like Hercule Poirot, the Agatha Christie invented character, the most famous Belgium detective, I find the process each day does keep the little gray cells actively engaged. I also would be remiss not to mention how I obviously get some sense of accomplishment when I finish and publish them. Speaking of pet peeves, me forgetting a really good anecdote really hacks me off. I get these flashes. Not hot flashes. Just flashes of thoughts, recollections, ideas, or a memory pops up. I immediately think it will make for a good item for my word smorgasbord, but, when I sit down to play a tune on the laptop keyboard, also the flashing has become fleeting. In fact, it fleeted itself right into the Bermuda Triangle. If you don't get that reference, look it up. I had enough trouble remembering what it was called. Until next time, stay calm, cool, and collected, and I will do my best to spend some time figuring out exactly what that means. May God bless.
Amen. .....More later.
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