Aha, Moments in History, and Remainders...

Dear Maria,

No doubt your spirits lifted along with so many others when spring decided to give us an early visit—folks around here now nearly chirping with optimism. I am resisting the urge to rush out with shovel in hand and begin transplanting—some errors need correcting, some new ideas implementing.

Last week in several conversations with friends I somehow sidetracked into wondering out loud about how the first pharaoh was allowed to be pharaoh. King Aha surely as a boy had playmates, and just as surely some were faster, some were stronger, some were smarter. But, then, at some point those boys are bowing before him. Don’t you know a few of them had to be thinking along the lines of how did he get to be king—remember when I knocked him on his behind, remember when he couldn’t understand a lesson.

Then, the idea of being a deity took hold? Again, had to be some boyhood pals who thought to themselves otherwise when beholding His Royal Totalness. What did HRT do to assert that kind of authority, that kind of staying power through generations? On some level I guess I admire the chutzpah of one who could stand before those who know him before wielding the scepter and act as if he of course is a living god—even though knowing his own limitations. I guess at some point when large and in charge you move on from honest self-assessment.

Of course, I no doubt have a few former classmates, friends even, who might think it unlikely—maybe even preposterous—that I became a high school teacher. But, for some reason, at 24 I had my ah-ha moment and, well, the rest is history.

The other evening the vagaries of life, writ small, were demonstrated again when I noticed a short stack of Hemingway’s Boat offered for sale for seven bucks a copy at Barnes & Noble. (I have been coached quietly to include more product placements in my blogs and stories.) Had I only waited. However, within a minute I took some small satisfaction that Fifty Shades of Grey was on the buy 2, get 1 free table.

Shelley was onto something with the desert sands.

So, too, Housman with his cherry blossoms, and since I most likely have many fewer seasons of bloom to behold, I am headed outdoors to look again at the loropetalum flowering, the roses sending out their earliest shoots, and bluebirds driving off the squirrels, a personal favorite.

Be well, and keep the larger picture in mind as best you can.

Always, then, srk