Politics and popularity have forever been conjoined. It’s the name of the game. It was however disturbingly unfamiliar to hear Donald Trump’s press secretary Sean Spencer at the first media briefing of the new presidency deliver what sounded like a sandbox dispute amounting to “Ours was bigger than yours!” message.
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green…
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea
Fern Hill by Dylan Thomas (1914 – 1953)
Nature’s influence is not only undeniable, it is uncompromising and unavoidable. Consider for example the unfathomable strength of gravity. The inscrutable moon governs the ebb and flow of the churning tides. This remarkable power – dare I say like our own ungovernable constitution – is neither to be ignored, neglected nor diminished. The result though predictable is not for that reason alone to be discounted. The regularity of the tides prohibits stagnancy and assures refreshment. Nature’s persuasiveness can be just as salubrious for humanity. Something there is delightfully axiomatic about nature’s irrepressible force. In the context of the human persona, “You are what you are“. Yet in spite of inherent pushes and pulls the possibilities of discovery and expression are infinite. Nature is but the cacoon of personality, the compasses of our existence not the definition of it.
Within hours of our return home yesterday we had unpacked, put away the suitcases, beach bags and computers, restocked the bathroom implements, creams and kit and washed and dried the dirty clothes. It was as though we had never left. Tellingly we were however too exhausted from the day’s travel from Daytona Beach Shores to Hilton Head Island (with a luncheon stop in Atlantic Beach) even to consider dinner. And we certainly hadn’t the time or inclination to shop for groceries. That we deferred until today.
We propose a short road trip to Florida. The fastest route from Hilton Head Island, SC is along Interstate 95. That however is a four-lane highway, nothing but endless traffic usually following an 18-wheeler or jockeying with cars to get past the lines of trucks. Accordingly we’ve decided to get off I95 as quickly as possible and head east towards the Atlantic Ocean so we can connect to the Ocean road through Florida’s historic small coastal towns.
A former client of mine (whose wife curiously enough – though without any relevance to what I am about to say – walked with the plodding deliberation of a hippopotamus) was obsessed with computers. That was in the day when computers were still an oddity and certainly before anyone had even heard of fax machines or the internet. It was never possible to speak to him about anything other than computers (except perhaps fleetingly about his health and the weather). Everything for him revolved around computers. He was the original nerd. He reportedly spent hours and hours – late into the night and early dawn – at his work table in his office in a dusty, old and draughty converted woollen factory, trying over and over again to make things work. I believe he eventually succeeded. He sold his intellectual property and left town. As far as I know his tromping wife went with him.
While I would never pretend to be a food or restaurant critic, I would be remiss not to mention Sea Shack diner on Hilton Head Island. Sea Shack is a symbol of good food on Hilton Head Island; it’s a place I would never hesitate to recommend. For me it captures an essential Island experience. Granted it is not a place whose furnishings or paintings provide any promotion; nor will you gain any traction in the society column for being seen there. But it you’re hungry and dressed comfortably, you’re in the right place!
I am becalmed. Three years ago I truncated what had become at times a punishing professional occupation, a relentless agitation with no foreseeable abatement. Then in a sudden mixture of foresight, decision and serendipity it came to an unprecedented halt. I quit working and sold everything. I was at last set adrift!
The day began with more than its usual industry. For one thing we were out of the door by 8:40 am and seated in the car headed for breakfast at a nearby favourite diner. We hadn’t even paused after the morning ablutions for a coffee or fruit.
Uncommonly I wasted in bed buried below the feather duvet until almost eleven o’clock this morning. It had rained during most of the night, hard at times, and I could see through the diaphanous draperies that the skies were still murky and grey. The grippe had thoroughly undermined my vitality. I willing succumbed to prolonged rest. I needed it. Besides it is a luxury to stay in bed as long as one wishes and to get up when one has the urge. It’s an advantage afforded a singular set of people, people without children, people of means, the elderly, idle people generally, people without an agenda, people not agitated by conscience, people who have a broad enough view of the world not to feel constantly imperative.
Though it hardly qualifies as reckless indulgence, this morning we breakfasted out. Such sybaritism! As usual we went to Low Country Produce & Café where we cavorted with three of the regular staff, one of whom (a sister of one of the co-owners) had been absent for about the past six weeks (which I know for a fact since it has been at least that long since she referred me to her hair stylist nearby and I have been there twice already).