What a weird week it has been. It has ranged from Jane Austen audiobooks on the way to the movies, to a funeral, to watching my favorite city under violent occupation by federal forces.
One day soon I'll write about movies, because we go a lot, and I'm thinking I might want to start thinking and talking about them the way I do about books. We've been listening to Mansfield Park on our drives back and forth from Cinemapolis in Ithaca, and am here to tell you it isn't her best work.
An old friend from grad school died. I hadn't seen him in years, he was seventy three and not in great health. I went to the visiting hours, ran into other old grad school friends in the parking lot, stood in front of his open casket with them and gossiped about former professors, then hugged his ex-wife a whole lot. Time! Marches on! etc.
Minneapolis is under attack. Violent, aggressive, out-of-control occupation by under-trained and over-armed fascists. My friends are telling me stories, and the murder of Renee Good is only a small part of the hell being rained down on the people of the city without regard for constitutionality or consequences. The only bright spot it that they're getting organized and pushing back. I don't know what is going to happen or how dark it is going to get.
Yet somehow I'm still plodding forward into the year in a moderately productive and moderately healthy way. I almost feel guilty, although I know that won't help.
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| Appearances to the contrary, we're actually cutting down on our drinking |
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