We got iPhones, J and I. It is a new world, but it really isn’t.
I don’t have it in me to write about how effed-up the world is. I did watch a video on YouTube that featured a nine year old girl who is a balalaika virtuoso. If you’ve seen The Grand Budapest Hotel, you may remember the balalaika orchestra that accompanied the closing credits. This girl gave me more hope for the world than anything I’ve seen or read in the news since Nixon’s resignation. Then again, that is a major purpose of art. Art puts the mundane in its proper place.
Meanwhile, we had snow. It was Currier & Ives beautiful for a couple hours before turning to slush. Alas, Bing Crosby and the gang were not around to keep the magic going.
I did a FaceTime call with a friend, worth every minute it has taken to learn this new system.
I cleared off an enormous pile of crap off my side table, wrote some checks, paid some bills, made some charitable donations.
Here is a thought . Can you imagine your life without bogeymen? You know the people you blame for the planet’s predicament and your own personal problems. Trump, Obama, George Soros, your “ex”- boss, spouse, lover, fill in the blank. Seems like every four years, we start looking for a new Savior. We don’t need new Presidents. We need a football head coach. If things don’t work out, we hire a new one.
But whatever. The decaf is ready. My feet are cold. Life’s pretty good, as long as we have nine year old balalaika virtuosi.