ENS Socotra on USS Carl Vinson. I have one of the President, too, but you have seen plenty of those. Photo courtesy of another Socotra
I am going to head down to the farm on this lovely Fall day.
We had a front come through with rain at mid-week and when it cleared out it left all things clean-washed and chill. It is supposed to warm up later, and I want to hang out on the deck and see if the deer come out. I will not venture into the woods though- I don’t think I have enough orange in my wardrobe.
I was going to write something this morning, but the Veteran’s day experience was a little daunting. There is something about the recollection of all that sacrifice by so many in the aftermath of the fall of the great empires. It is the world we were given, and I do not look down on armies (or peoples) who have lost so much in great retreats.
We are on one ourselves, self-inflicted, as you know. The situation plays a little toward the painful problems at Penn State- our inclination to let things ride rather than make tough choices. So much wrong there, and so profound. The rumors above what Coach Sandusky was up to with his Second Mile Foundation and the possible links to a wider shadowy ring of pederasts is just downright creepie.
But wait, as they say on the commercials, there is more.
Should the EuroZone fall apart, and another wave of bank failures spread to these shores, there could be some real misery that did not have to happen. The road back from the abyss will be a challenge.
I don’t pretend to know what will happen, but there are demographic forces at work that will leave some nation states in the dustbin of history in this century, but America is not one of them, at least at the moment.
I can see a Chinese Siberia in the not-too-distant future, and empty villas across the southern tier of Europe.
But that is liable to be at a time when I am no longer in a position to do anything about it.
I do know that my son made it to San Diego and saw the President and the First Activist on the USS Carl Vinson, and that the wine was crisp and fresh at Willow, and Katyia the new waitress from Belorus has dancing dark eyes and Jon-no-H and John-with were in rare form, the duck pot pie was delicious- or at least it looked that way- and Jason is confronting his future as an independent entrepreneur with confidence I could not muster.
Elisabeth-with-an-S is gamely going to pass that pesky Virginia Bar and stop tending Willow’s, and our buddy Holly is moving on, and Jasper the Great Guamanian is going to finish inking both of his arms as fully colored tattoo sleeves. Old Jim is coming back to Willow, all is forgiven for the misunderstanding about Kate’s bread, and so, while this is all falling apart, there is still some fun to be had.
I am going to enjoy the last of the leaves today, and contemplate nothing but my navel.
Copyright 2011 Vic Socotra
www.vicsoctra.com