inertia and osculation

We watched a movie about spectacular vengeance last night. I don't even remember the name of it this morning, but the plot is familiar: A man's family is brutalized and murdered before his eyes while he lies on the floor, duct taped and helpless. He is let down by the system and left alone and profoundly let down, everything he's ever had to love in his life destroyed and no justice to show for it, the evil doers plea bargaining their way to easy street. This pathos gives way to massive amounts of vengeance and lesson learning unleashed upon the hypocrites and evil doers by the suddenly empowered and brilliant formerly-helplessly-suffering-guy who has monster abs by the way.

It was very satisfying. It made me want to convene my own military tribunal and railroad somebody.

I fell asleep pretty early and woke up early, here in my somewhat less clear cut world. Winter has thickened my blood and I'm peering out the window thinking about somehow moving more quickly. I'm dragging with me a foggy cloud of ennui that I haven't been able to shake for weeks. When I'm occupied, I'm fine. Things have been busy and so mostly I've been occupied. Sometimes, though, in the silence of an empty cluttered house the fog descends and I look around at all the things to do, tasks not done, riddles unsolved, loose ends untied, and I'm inert. Perhaps I'm an emotional shark and must keep moving to survive. The warm weather reminds me of my bicycle and my running shoes. It's time to test my titanium spinal superstructure and get myself some endorphins.

Today Caitlin flies to Germany for a senior trip. She'll visit Berlin, stay with a host family for three days in a small down to the south, and then visit Munich. All told she'll be gone ten days, which is about as long as she's ever been gone from us, I think. We all view this as a rehearsal for college this Fall. She's a ready as any of us ever are for what passes as independence when you're eighteen. She was taunting her mother last night with threats of "making out with German boys" to "see if they do it differently." A cultural saliva exchange! For peace! Robyn played along threatening dire consequence if Caitlin is flown home in disgrace. I worry for the poor unsuspecting German boys, personally.

I doubt that the Teutonic method for osculation is any different. Lips is lips. I had a girlfriend once who was enamored of the French. It was her major after all, but I was an unsatisfactory boyfriend in that I didn't share her passion and hadn't learned that being supportive is part of the job. My observation was that minus the accent, her French friends were no more interesting than my American ones. There was one really mad fellow named Andre I really liked but he seemed more temperamentally Russian than French. I never kissed any of them, but I think my girlfriend did. I think they supported her passion better than I did.

Soon I'll head to Iowa City and visit with my ornery kids. We step onto the moving sidewalk with little time to reflect, doing and doing. Inertia is like that: it moves until it stops, stops until it moves.

If I can ever lose my blues
Walk on over and turn on the tv
What I'd like to do is lie down on the sofa
Later on
I might walk my dog, baby

--James Taylor