I'm going to risk a break from adorable cat photos --which have admittedly distracted me from current ills-- and address a problem of societal conscience. Here is an illustration:
It has got us stuck like a big boat running up a shoal, a speedbump of mind, and getting stuck. Impact alone succeeds in knocking our moral compass out of its binnacle. Subsequently, our ship of state is unled. But enough about the world, let's consider me.
Norma has an envelope labeled "Money"--sure to foil burglars. It's for household expenses. She asked me to drop by the bank, while I do errands, to restock it for another month --or whenever this lockdown ends. She said, "Oh, and wear your gloves."
"I do." I said, but she wasn't finished.
"Also", she said, "Governor Newsom says you should wear a mask."
I thought a moment and replied with a question. "I already wear rubber surgical gloves in public, but a mask? I have trouble with the idea of entering a bank with a mask on. Does our governor also want me to carry a black sack labeled LOOT?
I'll find out tomorrow if tellers can call me by name and smile or say,"Well, aren't you whoever you are?"
These little girls are sisters, twins really --same mother, same birthday. You can tell they're related because there's some slight resemblance around the eyes (ya think?):
I post their pretty faces because we are living in strange times --overwhelming, underwhelming. Who's doing all this whelming in the first place? "Don't ask me, I don't give a damn." I sure miss Country Joe. There seems to be a Hadean ambience returning to earth. But that was the '60s --or is it?-- and I get blue if I don't watch life, its gray and black fur, pleasantly psychotic eyes. Also, I'm in my private, internal 70s and have slowed posting because I'm too busy forgetting where I leave everything. Well, maybe not so blue as gray and black, like my hair these days.
Sequestered, I become more bibulous. It helps actual humans cope with the wisdom of their leadership.
Indeed, the 1960s were full of moral indignation, relieved only by gym classes smelling of sweat and foot fungus --constructive human smells. The rest was debate and tension that sent us glissading down into the 23rd Psalm valley.
We are watched, if not from above then from below, observed by Nature. Can we hold our place of responsibility on Earth, or be crippled by mismatched socks? We need to learn by what learns from us, to feel at peace with our place in the Universe, to love.
