To the Editor:
“April is the cruelest month” (T.S. Eliot).
This April has too often been about moving widow-maker snow from a 90 foot long driveway to some neighbor-friendly site while waiting for the mother of all plow banks. I pace myself, working with a scoop and shovel; my carbon footprint is minimal, and any fossil fuel emissions are my own. It is a perfect time for thinking, and collating thoughts. Here are some of my musings and reflections.
1. We have a political genius living in the White House, and much of this genius has rubbed off on her husband, the President.
2. I have reached my limit concerning the absolute certainties of those who insist on telling others how to live, think and breed. I tire of supporters of rigid institutions based upon fear, whether political, religious or governmental. In their zeal they generally succeed only on supplanting one oligarchy with yet another, while depleting the assets of those least able to afford such depletions.
3. I believe that the world’s major faiths all came out of like deserts on sandals, leaving lasting footprints in the sands of time. They tended to follow paths consistent with their history, geography and culture. All have within them the seeds of discard, conflict and violence, even holy war. Yet they remain a beacon of hope and comfort for billions of people, and perhaps the only promise of peace for mankind.
4. Regarding matters of money, I need only to refer to my “from the old country” grandparents. If they could not pay cash for something, they went without until they had saved enough. Also, to my parents, who taught me the responsible use of credit, and to never leave one job until you had secured another. And to extended family members who reminded me that if you had too much money in your pocket you would invariably start leaning too far to the right.
5. Now I am, as they say in the military, “a short timer” on this little carnival ride that we all take here on Spaceship Earth. When the carousel stops to let me off, maybe I shall hear the celestial music of the spheres. Or, better yet, total and complete silence, with plenty of time for musing and reflection.
As for spring, take heart — the geese are returning to the Gile Flowage.