Back2 Write

November 1, 2018

Here this Thursday evening on California’s north coast, some light fog, blended with faded-yellow sunshine, and a pretty-nice day. NWS says ‘Mostly/Partly Cloudy’ the next couple of days, while WunderBlog forecasts mostly cloudy tomorrow and Saturday with rain coming maybe Sunday.
Two sides of near-view…and we’ll see.

My first blog since March 1 — shit of a go-between then and now. An experience, however, most-likely to be proven good in the long run.
Miss Emily says:

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.


(Illustration: MC Escher’s engraving, ‘Old Oliver Tree,’ found here.

This morning on my daily exercise/walk — up G Street in Arcata toward the Plaza, a footing-intent to create an irregular long, circuitous route to Safeway, and then back to the house — a weathered, one-legged guy in a wheelchair approached me while I waited for the light on Samoa. A dirty-looking Gollum-like face pleaded, and while holding up fingers, asked: “Do you have two dollars?”

A bit surprised at first, a sad scene with a specific request, I figured a second, and not thinking ahead at all, I told him to hold on. Checking my wallet — a one, a five and a twenty — I looked at the guy, replied: “All I have is a five.”
Seemingly in micro-seconds, and without waiting for whatever intentions from me, his entire face shifted from a picture of sad, pitiful disaster to one of unbelievable success — I guess, such an apparent emotional transformation so complete created a tingling sadness that near-about made me want me to cry a little bit (would’ve maybe if I’d been alone…).
I gave him the five. He uttered “Thank-you, thank-you…”
And then I had to get out of his way as he wheeled his chair quickly past me on the sidewalk.

During the rest of my outing, I mentally, whimsically studied myself on the three different options I could have engaged with the one-legged guy in a wheelchair — could said here’s just a dollar, telling him, “All I can afford;” or saying, “All I have is a twenty;” or the line about having ‘only‘ a five. A lie but formed in the guise of handling a request of the unfortunate — the twenty was off the list, of course.
And of course, knew I couldn’t have told the guy I couldn’t afford anything, and just let it go — such a scenario would create great suffering of way-heavy guilt for a long while.
Apparently, I chose the easy, middle ground — not a cheapskate, not exactly a big-hearted donor to the poor, either.
Success of doing something, though, and I found a mouse at CVS, action toward my working my PC, and hopefully reclaiming an enthusiasm for writing.
Hence, this post, the first of many

Our world is one-frickin’ Topsy-turvey, not in a neat way at all, and I’m back….

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