That, and the fact that the Academy Awards were boring has made me realize I have lived a VERY long time though perhaps not as long as Brian Williams imagines he has. Poor Brian. Wanting so badly to be a big shot, not realizing he already was one. We shall not see his like again as Shakespeare might have writ if there had been TV in the 17th century, as there might have been if Brian had been allowed to cover it, or at least say he had.
But I am sad for all those who wish they could have been more, not understanding that they already are the Max. To have come into the world at all while it was still here and do-able as a human being, is a great privilege. To have been able to go to college, much less a great one as I did, while parents who did not necessarily prize you could still afford it, and then to have traveled the world and connected with some of the wonderful people in it before you took your life into your hands just walking to the corner, was some kind of beneficent destiny.
I spent this morning, privileged as it was with weather where it was still possible to go for a walk, even though people in Beverly Hills seldom get out of their cars except at curbside to a shop or restaurant, taking a baby gift, acquired in a number of stores, to what remains of the postage system. Poor Benjamin Franklin. The post office was started by him, along with discovering electricity attaching a key to a kite, and inventing swim fins, along with all his other achievements, are now mostly forgotten, stolen, or fallen into dis-use. He believed in re-incarnation. I can only hope for the sake of his ego that he was wrong, and so can not see what has become of all the facets of his genius, much less his country. Whether or not the post office will even continue is up for speculation.
And it is interesting, in its sad-assed way, to see the newspapers trying to make something major out of those who are left as newscasters, while there are still any stories worth reading about that are not depressing. The destruction of all the art objects in Iran by the Muslims enraged at those who admire something beside and/or before Allah one would imagine would be upsetting even or maybe especially to Allah.
In spite of all the depressing news, I am going to begin studying the guitar, just in case there is anything worth singing about in anybody's living room, in case there are any living rooms, or anybody living.
But I am sad for all those who wish they could have been more, not understanding that they already are the Max. To have come into the world at all while it was still here and do-able as a human being, is a great privilege. To have been able to go to college, much less a great one as I did, while parents who did not necessarily prize you could still afford it, and then to have traveled the world and connected with some of the wonderful people in it before you took your life into your hands just walking to the corner, was some kind of beneficent destiny.
I spent this morning, privileged as it was with weather where it was still possible to go for a walk, even though people in Beverly Hills seldom get out of their cars except at curbside to a shop or restaurant, taking a baby gift, acquired in a number of stores, to what remains of the postage system. Poor Benjamin Franklin. The post office was started by him, along with discovering electricity attaching a key to a kite, and inventing swim fins, along with all his other achievements, are now mostly forgotten, stolen, or fallen into dis-use. He believed in re-incarnation. I can only hope for the sake of his ego that he was wrong, and so can not see what has become of all the facets of his genius, much less his country. Whether or not the post office will even continue is up for speculation.
And it is interesting, in its sad-assed way, to see the newspapers trying to make something major out of those who are left as newscasters, while there are still any stories worth reading about that are not depressing. The destruction of all the art objects in Iran by the Muslims enraged at those who admire something beside and/or before Allah one would imagine would be upsetting even or maybe especially to Allah.
In spite of all the depressing news, I am going to begin studying the guitar, just in case there is anything worth singing about in anybody's living room, in case there are any living rooms, or anybody living.
