Monday morning. . .
This is NOT a "Mamas and Papas" song lyric. . .
it's Monday in the A.M., here, in my world. . .
a morning after another night spent dozing
in my recliner.
Fluid in the lungs again.
Don't know what I may have eaten to provoke
this condition once more.
I suspect that this is to be a chronic ailment for me.
After taking in all of the EXTENSIVE TV programming
about the sinking of RMS Titanic this week-end
(and watching a goodly portion of it),
I become uneasy thinking of my daughter and her family,
now on a cruise ship somewhere off of the east coast
heading south, towards the Caribbean.
Silly, I know. . . but. . .
The dogs are no trouble. . . at least so far.
I can tell that the elder one is starting to
feel her age. She isn't so very eager to play
anymore. Although I managed to get her to
engage in a tug-of-war with me yesterday.
Today is "Emancipation Day."
It's a holiday only in D.C..
The IRS is closed for business.
Why it's not a federal holiday is beyond me.
(The Mexican holiday, "Cinque De Mayo," gets
One would think that a holiday that commemorates
the official manumission of America's slave population
would be joyfully celebrated on a prominent stage,
with song and dance and marching bands galore.
(But, what do I know? I'm just a citizen here.
It is us. . . our history. . . and it should be marked.)
Speaking of emancipation. . .
the Trayvon Martin case makes clear one thing. . .
we are not yet over this "race" business.
One hundred and forty-nine years since the signing
of said Emancipation Proclamation. . .
one hundred and forty-seven years since the
Civil War was ended at Appomattox Court House. . .
and here we are in the 21st century,
still arguing "race" matters.
How long before we grow up?
( I gets weary and so sick of tryin' - Kern )