Everything – excluding perhaps the Universe – has its perimeter; namely, an outermost boundary. At my advanced age nearing three-quarters of a century I most certainly have mine. My training in Freemasonry has cultivated the concept of limitation captured in its iconic symbol of the compasses. Notably the “G” in Freemasonry may refer not only to the “Great Architect of the Universe” (or what commonly refers to god) but also to geometry which identifies a different association entirely; namely, that of parameters, a numerical or other measurable factor forming one of a set that defines a system or sets the conditions of its operation. Perimeters and parameters are not the same thing though they are frequently mistakenly used as such.

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Editor’s Note:  Herewith a copy of an email sent to me November 11th, 2022 by Mrs. Fiona St. Clair.  I felt the narrative was too delicious to abandon unrecorded into cyberspace. Apart from one or two boarding school chaps and a more remote childhood soulmate, Fiona is my most long standing friend. We met in undergraduate studies at Glendon Hall in Toronto, Ontario around 1968 when I was 20 years old.  Serendipitously we extended our alliance to post graduate study when I attended Dalhousie Law School in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Subsequently we prolonged our friendship to Ottawa, Ontario when I articled with Macdonald, Affleck, Barristers &c.; and again when I was a Don at Devonshire House, University of Toronto while attending Osgoode Hall in Toronto. Fiona adjudicated debates between competing houses of Devonshire House. She was exceedingly popular with the boys! Since that time we have crossed paths in Ottawa, Almonte and Florida.

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Many young people are better educated than their parents. Education combined with empathy is enforcing a new trend, an awakening of the woke generation.

Woke:

Adjective:

having or marked by an active awareness of systemic injustices and prejudices, especially those involving the treatment of ethnic, racial, or sexual minorities;

disparaging of or relating to a liberal progressive orthodoxy, especially promoting inclusive policies or ideologies that welcome or embrace ethnic, racial, or sexual minorities.

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When I awoke this morning and narrowly spied the margin of yellow sunlight glaring through the bedroom shutters I instinctively felt as though I had overslept as I have lately done following our long road journey of 2,800 Kms from Canada to Key Largo. To my gleeful astonishment it was only 8:30 am. My communion with the real world has traditionally begun with the sound of an alarm which by the way since retirement and downsizing I no longer possess. It pleased me I hadn’t frazzled the critical morning hours of the day. In keeping with my fecundated boarding school habit I made my bed, discharged to the laundry basket whatever clothes were laying about then began a punishing waddle to the bathroom for a shower (this business of arthritis is serious let me tell you).

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If you can’t “find your groove,” you feel off track and out of whack. But when you’re “in the groove,” everything is working smoothly and you’ve found a good routine.

Though I have no reason to be shamefaced for saying so, I am a creature that prefers routine to the unusual. I say this reluctantly because so often the prosaic is contrasted unfavourably with the inspired. And while I acknowledge the benefit of enterprise, I find the drill or regiment of the groove is paramountly persuasive in the conduct of my daily affairs.

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When I attended All Keys Cycles today in the locally known “Pink Plaza” on the Overseas Highway to enquire about the purchase of a tricycle I conjured up my erstwhile physician’s frequent and no doubt learned admonition; viz., “Keep moving!” Today’s project was however not entirely kinetic. It was a combination of necessity, utility and preference. My current immobility issues predict the indispensability of something upon which to carry my enfeebled corpus; and while I acknowledge the practicality and advantage of a tricycle for one such as I, the inalterable fact is that cycling has long been my most favoured means of discovery.

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It is manifestly “off season” on Key Largo. The traffic hasn’t yet become past bearing as we rightfully expect it will in the new year; we hadn’t any problem this morning securing a table for breakfast on the patio overlooking the North Atlantic Ocean; afterwards we were able to find a parking spot at the grocery store without difficulty; and most importantly when I swam in the pool this afternoon I was the only one there for the better part of an hour. The buoyancy instantly rejuvenated my burgeoning decrepitude. And did I mention 88°F in the blazing sunshine intermingled with massive cloud formations.

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America is poised on November 8th to make some potentially startling mid-term election decisions during the current presidency of Joseph R. Biden Jr (D) who entered the oval office on Capitol Hill in 2020. The expectancy is that the incumbents will maintain the lead; however, because former president Donald J. Trump (R), in spite of being the subject of broad litigation and unfavourable report arising from the insurrection following his defeat, continues to perpetuate his unsubstantiated “stolen election” theme without discernible reactionary discredit from his putative base, the prospects are open for roulette gain or loss. Significantly President Biden has warned Americans that the traditional minority of interest in mid-term elections is in this instance altered enormously by the risk of preservation of the central American theme of democracy.

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Five days ago on Wednesday, November 2nd we left home en route to Key Largo.  We arrived today on Sunday, November 6th. The moment we departed Homestead, Florida (the lowest end of the Florida peninsula) and entered the Florida Keys with its iconic turquoise coloured cement barrier separating the north and south lanes of the Overseas Highway I knew we had achieved a long-standing ambition to winter in Key Largo, an initiative which had been delayed upwards of two years by COVID- 19 and its corollary repercussions.

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