Recently we met our neighbours George and Bobbie from Maine. We are all of an age. They kindly invited us to breakfast with them at their place this morning. The day began under gloomy weather – in addition to bearing the reserve befitting a Sunday – all of which suited me well. Otherwise I might have resented missing a moment of sunshine or my constitutional morning bicycle ride (a deprivation I happily endured because I recognize the need for a break from my exercise routine which is beginning to affect me adversely).

There’s something decidedly authentic about a swim in the sea. Its irrepressible allure is even more magnetic when the source is practically at one’s door. In the middle of January on Longboat Key the ambient temperature is comfortable – which is to say the sea water is not exactly like soup. Thus in spite of the blue sky and yellow sunshine today I hadn’t initially been consumed by the undying necessity to walk among the sea grasses and fine white sand to approach the Gulf of Mexico unannounced so to speak.

I ate my breakfast too quickly this morning. It impaired the tranquility of my bicycle ride. The wind was powerful from the east, the sun shone like oven heat upon my face. I was distracted by the urgency, not yet focused. Who are these people passing by? Do they live nearby? Have they just arrived on the island full of excitement and energy and purpose? I’m starting to blend in with the wallpaper.

Of all the gems and bijoux I’ve ever had DJA is the only one irreplaceable. He is the keel of my meaning. I won’t deny I can at times be more ornamental than he; but he is what fastens the foundation and keeps us afloat, going in the right direction with the wind always at our backs and in our sails. When the sun sets and the gloom of the evening overtakes, the diminished brightness of the day narrows the perspective and highlights what is crucial. There is no one else left in the room.

There are as many ways of interpterting the world as there are of looking at it. My friend FBF prefers the broad view, seeing as much as possible, doing as much as one can, extending the exploit to the edge of whatever elasticity prevails, enduring the necessity of the race for the strength of the strain. His is a limitless horizon as much of his own making as nature and circumstance choose to afford him. His passion nonetheless admits the obligation of servility “because we all serve someone“, whatever narrow focus of performance one has sought in this life – in his case medicine.

You might be a rock ’n’ roll addict prancing on the stage
You might have drugs at your command, women in a cage
You may be a businessman or some high-degree thief
They may call you Doctor or they may call you Chief

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody

Gotta Serve Somebody, Bob Dylan

Engineering the correct regard for one’s life is no mean task. The are two options: recapitulate or capitulate – summarize or surrender. When blathering with Dr. George by the pool today he astonished me by not knowing the name of the model of vehicle (Enclave or Encore) he had just purchased in December before coming here from Maine for the winter. He did however quite succinctly recall what some old fellow had told him over fifty years ago while waiting for a bus in Yugoslavia.

Before I expand upon the fodder I consumed at the trough today, I feel bound to record the distinction which unwittingly arose while cycling along the Gulf of Mexico Drive this afternoon. The distinction is this, between “here for the season” and “winter here“. I am provoked in this dilation because of three recent putatively insignificant encounters on the bike path, events which frankly perturbed me.

Okay, here it is, balmy, breezy air the moment I open the air-conditioned apartment door late this morning (after a sustaining breakfast of green apple slices, Brie cheese, steel cut oats, walnuts with maple syrup and black chilled coffee), wheeling my Sun bicycle out; blue sky and yellow sunshine above; towering palm trees everywhere; golf courses sprawling either side the bike path; the turquoise waters of the Gulf of Mexico within view to the west, Sarasota Bay to the east; and it’s approaching 85 degrees. My greatest accomplishments so far in the day are getting out of bed and cleansing the carcass. I rest my case!

There likely isn’t anything which hasn’t been said before and I can pretty much guarantee you won’t hear anything novel from me. There are however certain truths which bear repeating and I would like to share some of them with you. To illustrate the first universal principle consider this brainteaser, a foceful reminder that things are not always what they appear:

If a baseball and a bat cost $1.10 together, and the bat costs $1.00 more than the ball, how much does the ball cost?

Although President Donald Trump’s use of cryptic language is normally understood by even the lowest common denominator, certain words suffer misconstruction due to auditory distortion. Take his use of “bigly” for example. Apparently what he’s actually saying is “big league “. In either case the assumption is that he’s using the word or phrase as an adverb, something to modify a verb, as in “We won bigly” or “I intend to do something bigly”. If what he is really saying is “big league ” it still amounts to doing something on a grand scale and therefore the sense or meaning in either case is relatively clear even if both renditions are paradoxically more poetic than prosaic.