Have you ever read the book or seen the movie "Moby Dick" (the one with Gregory Peck). In it Ahab says, "Talk not of blasphemy to me, man, I'd strike the sun if it insulted me." I've always loved that line. The power and anger in it appeals to some part of me. We have been back in Washington a little over two weeks. I can count on one hand the number of times we've seen the sun. Here's the insult of clouds, they part just before sundown and dazzle us with color, after all day blocking the light and warmth from penetrating into our Vitamin D-starved psyches. Oh sure, it's crazy for me to run outside and curse the sky, but that doesn't stop me. The things I've said would make probably make Ahab blush. Too bad.
Nothing seems as beautiful against the same gray sky, day after day. I photographed an eagle flying as low over our yard as I've ever seen. Eye contact, absolutely. But the photos might as well have been taken in black and white. There is a dullness to this winter landscape that seems punishing without end. Sunday morning temperatures were a freezing 30 F. It warmed up to 40F and there was a soft drizzle. Jean Paul Sartre said that hell was other people, but he must not have ever spent time in the pacific northwest.
And then there's the relentless political landscape. What's with Obama's minister sounding like the kind of person who usually stands on a street corner screaming, the one I cross the street to avoid. Why isn't he talking kindly about his god? Isn't that what ministers or reverends are supposed to do when they are preaching in church? Why would Obama ever listen to a man who sounds like that? I'm disappointed. What's with Hillary Clinton? She's acting exactly as I thought she would. What a freakin' bummer. I answered the phone the other day and the voice on the other end said that he was from the Hillary campaign. I said, "I'm not going to give you money. She's not showing leadership, and I totally hope she loses." He said, "Oh, okay." I have had enough. These two Democratic candidates need to be running against the Republican machinery morning, noon, and night. They should be able to distinguish themselves by their arguments, their appeals, their platforms. I'm tired of them running against each other and playing gotcha on things that are irrelevant. At some point we are going to have to sidle up to one of them and plant the transforming kiss.
Our economy is absolutely in the tank, folks. I don't know about you, but we're trying to figure out which is the best-- having a house and land that will continue to lose value, or converting it to cash which will also continue to be worth less. That's about the gist of it, as we see it. I keep saying to Roger, I sure don't want to have to take one of our wheelbarrows full of thousand dollar bills up to the co-op to buy a loaf of bread. Did you notice how the Eliot Spitzer debacle came at just the right time to keep the pundits off the economy trail? Funny how that happens. Like it was planned, or something. Don't take your eyes off the economy. It's a show you won't want to miss.
Well, that's all we've got, friends.
All photographs taken in the yard: The sky at sunset; the low-flying eagle; a tree frog trying to get to the pond.
No comments:
Post a Comment