I feel a lttle like the opening passage of Moby Dick, not ready quite yet to knock hats off in the street, not yet, but the restlessness itches under my sternum, and I am thinking of the past. Long past I mean, people that I knew when I was a kid, or away at school. I google search shows me their faces, not terribly changed, still clearly the same people. Time has had a way with them too though.
Some people, however, are shockingly young. I wrote today to my local congressman, to see if he could help with the Nonorable disaster. The guy who holds my district is Hakeem Jeffries, who was born in 1970! I remember 1970. I was in first grade in 1970. It is weird enough that I could have been in high school with Obama. (If he had been in Ma.) It is weird enough that doctors and cops all seem to suddenly be younger than me. I suppose I will get used to it. If Mr Jeffries helps us I will be tremendously grateful. A google search shows me a man I will not have to feel conflicted about remaining grateful to.
Claire is back to school, out of the house every morning by 7. Mike is gone even earlier, the trip to the Bronx is a long one. I am sure he sleeps on the subway. Sailors can sleep anywhere, and under any conditions. He can sleep sitting, standing, while getting a tooth out, or inside a working engine. He can actually sleep while walking. I have seen him do it, so a warm dry quiet subway train is nothing.
