Well, you know that is complete nonsense. But the sun appears to be coming up in the East this morning, and if our retirement funds are a couple dozen thousand dollars lighter this morning, oh well, easy come, easy go.
It was easy enough to get sidetracked on the awful events down in Roanoke yesterday. The horror of it incorporated all the appalling trends of modern life- a jumble of technology colliding with social media- that has served the barbarians f ISIS so well. The murders not only went on live television, but were recorded by the gunman and posted to social media shortly after the carnage was committed.
I could throw in all the other luggage that is captured in microcosm in this sad, tragic event, but why start. Everyone has a handy narrative to grab onto, and it is off to the races, damn the truth. The facts, as they emerge, supports the notion that a troubled man (it is always men, troubled men, isn’t it?) acted out to gain a few moments of infamy at the awful cost of two young and promising lives.
And unlike that wimp Martin O’Malley, I will just say this: All lives matter. Except for those that think killing is the answer to anything. Maybe we ought to concentrate on culling the monsters, you know?
We talked about that at Willow. I was feeling pretty good, all things considered. I got a full hour’s swim in the warm sunshine after completing a mind-numbing analysis of a Government solicitation. did some curbside romantic counseling from my stool near the apex of the Amen Corner, though one should factor in the fact that my specific performance in that sector is subject to debate by reasonable observers. Doc popped in from Arizona to try the award-winning Smokey Sliders, which were on special at six bucks for a brace of them, and bemoaned the state of IT contracting in this town.
I commiserated. Things have become so crazy and convoluted in the world of government contracting that it is quite enough to drive one to distraction, though with the plummeting price of oil, driving away from it all is an attractive option.
The Lovely Bea and Jon-without are back from the time-share adventure in Mexico, which sparked a round of Spanglish between the morning Miguel the morning sous chef, and bartender Marvin, and Jon and TLB. It was grand fun, mangling a proud tongue, and we watched videos of the cliff jumping on the hand-held devices that got passed up the bar. The Missile Twins came for their Wednesday flatbread-and-happy-hour red, and despite the ominous portents of the day, things seemed to be going pretty well.
The sun was shining, the birds sang, and life was going on.
When I got back to the flat, it was full dark and there was enough of a chill in the rising breeze that I decided to eschew the second swim of the day, and walked over to tell Pavel the Lifeguard that he didn’t have to hang around on my account. When I returned to the unit to make the coffee for the next morning, I noticed a note had been slipped under my door. It wasn’t signed, but I knew exactly who it was from, a fellow member of the Aqua Underground with an interest as acute as mine. The Board had made their decision:
Four more days of swimming before we have to figure something else to do for our cardio.
All might not be well with the world, but some of the small things are just fine. Thank God.
Copyright 2015 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jayare303