my mayberry
though my task at hand these days lends itself in some sense to walling off attendance to world and domestic political goings on, like a commuter passing by a pile-up on my way to work, i just can’t avoid rubbernecking and being somewhat affected. and the little bits i stay on top of these days makes blood shoot out of my eyes, to borrow a phrase from one of my favorite talk show hosts. but i have found a means of gathering comfort, a very simple means which is always just around the corner.
in investigating the new locale, and to defrag when my head is exploding from imput building to the level of befuddlement, trogdor and i have been going on epic walks. from amidst the various directions we have set out in we have discovered an oasis, one well above the prefabricated gated attempts which sully the sun drenched expanse with sterile walls and elitesque nomenclatures. we have discovered an old school neighborhood, one shaded with old trees and littered with human activity. most of the areas around here are akin to ghost towns, an abundance of luxury lain waste with the defeaning absence of use. so the discovery of a real neighborhood was a welcome find; streets littered with barefoot children playing games and getting dirty, block parties and neighbors gathered at corners in evening conversation, flags proudly hung out before homes that have identity and difference, and the right amount of messy livedinedness. the other day i watched as a group of age 10ish boys were actually having a stick race, dropping their respective horses in the stream by a bridge and racing to the other side to see which one made it out first. a stick race! in 2006! and the father, who hid to the delighted giggles and shrieks of his two daughters as they raced around in the fading light and were pounced upon again and again as if for the first time. generational women walking together in the cool of the evening, sharing intimate conversations, men gathered on their porches or driveways sipping a cold one and surveying the scene with pride. people unplugged, children racing about in gangs of grubby imaginative investigation, neighbors knowing one another’s name and living life in comfortable, familiar lo-fi connection.
call me sappy, but i draw immense comfort from one simple stroll through an exhibition of fully alive humanity which has its priorities so grounded even amidst the ungrounding quaking up all around. most days i still think the republic is doomed, but at least the good life is being lived out somewhere in defiance of that unsavory prospect of doom. the sting of death has nothing on the received gift of life’s fullness…