Saturday, October 06, 2012
Defying my Discs
It's autumn. When I walk, the leaves blow across my feet like tiny birds, scurrying to migrate from the yards, across the sidewalk, and into the street. About a quarter mile down the road, the street sweeper comes and whisks them away to paradise.
I pass four or five maples in a row. Their patterns are all uniformly vertical except one. Its bark twists in a clockwise spiral all the way up to the sky. What infinity slight deviation in its DNA caused that?
Every fire hydrant I passed is rusty and caked with grime. They may never be used, they may be forgotten, but they're always ready to do their duty.
I took the kids bowling. After watching them play, I had to join in for at least one game, even though I really shouldn't. My back is thankfully still intact.
Adulthood sneaks up on you, it's that moment when the trap clamps down on you and you realize you have nothing sorted out, nothing figured out, but you're supposed to be strong and brave, a guide for the ones who need you. Maybe that's why so many take comfort in religion, the rules are already laid out.
A line from the theme song from the classic film M*A*S*H, (and if you've only seen the TV show, yes, it has lyrics.) keeps repeating in my head:
"A brave man once requested me
To answer questions that are key.
'Is it to be or not to be?'
And I replied 'Oh, why ask me?'"