Arriving home on the twelveth after three weeks on the road, we were greeted by our friend, neighbor, and cat sitter, Bob, who was tending to his stone-paved driveway. After bringing each other up to speed on travels/local news, Carol and I did some minor, very minor, unloading then I caught up on emails while she prepared our offering for the evening's Flamingo Friday around the corner. We spent three lovely hours with neighbors, eating great food, drinking good wine, and chatting about a little of everything from my dying peach trees to our extensive travels. Worn out by about nine-thirty, we made our exit. We were in bed on our porch before ten.
Several things drifted into my none-to-nimble brain while traveling. I'll see if I can sift through the fog and bring some of them forward.
While heading west through Canada, I notice several places where Canadian flags were tacked up on rock hillsides. It pleased me to see them at first, but then I thought about how I'd react if I were in the US and saw the Stars and Stripes displayed in a similar fashion. I knew it would annoy me, because I would associate it with the belligerent "I'm a patriot, and if you don't display the flag, you're not." displays: trailing shredded from car windows, tacked on the lapels of politicians, or painted on the sides of buildings. I resent the implication, especially from people who claim respect for the flag but seem to lack respect for the country it represents. It made me wonder if that was happening in Canada.
I heard a preacher on one of the innumerable christian radio stations across the country claiming that the Statue of Liberty was a graven idol. Wing-nuts abound, and the scariest thing is that too many folks buy this stuff. I'm always struck by people who quote the bible as the "Word of God." Is that the King James version of the word, the Douay version, another version? What about non-english translations? I hark back to a statement by Deepak Chopra. “Walk with those seeking truth; run from those who think they've found it."
Enough of that.
After hosting our youngest grandkids for the past two days we passed them off to the the other GP's at a Plaza Diner breakfast. They will ferry the munchkins back to mom and dad. At four and seven, they are all energy and fun. At sixty-nine and sixty-six, we are worn out.
The sun is down.
I sit in that grey space before the dark. All is quiet.
Several things drifted into my none-to-nimble brain while traveling. I'll see if I can sift through the fog and bring some of them forward.
While heading west through Canada, I notice several places where Canadian flags were tacked up on rock hillsides. It pleased me to see them at first, but then I thought about how I'd react if I were in the US and saw the Stars and Stripes displayed in a similar fashion. I knew it would annoy me, because I would associate it with the belligerent "I'm a patriot, and if you don't display the flag, you're not." displays: trailing shredded from car windows, tacked on the lapels of politicians, or painted on the sides of buildings. I resent the implication, especially from people who claim respect for the flag but seem to lack respect for the country it represents. It made me wonder if that was happening in Canada.
I heard a preacher on one of the innumerable christian radio stations across the country claiming that the Statue of Liberty was a graven idol. Wing-nuts abound, and the scariest thing is that too many folks buy this stuff. I'm always struck by people who quote the bible as the "Word of God." Is that the King James version of the word, the Douay version, another version? What about non-english translations? I hark back to a statement by Deepak Chopra. “Walk with those seeking truth; run from those who think they've found it."
Enough of that.
After hosting our youngest grandkids for the past two days we passed them off to the the other GP's at a Plaza Diner breakfast. They will ferry the munchkins back to mom and dad. At four and seven, they are all energy and fun. At sixty-nine and sixty-six, we are worn out.
The sun is down.
I sit in that grey space before the dark. All is quiet.
Comments
Post a Comment
Comments are always from "anonymous". Often I can identify the author by the content of the comment, but that much cogitation makes my 80 year-old brain tired. Please help out an old man and identify yourself within the text of the comment. Thanks for the comments whether or not you ID yourself. Tom