I by-passed the sea this morning. Instead I continued my tricycle ride to the island swimming pool. For two reasons. One, it was too early to swim in the sea. It was only 10:30 am. I shall preserve the early morning swims in the sea for those occasions in March or April when I anticipate the heat will warrant the eclipse. Two, although I hadn’t laid my head on the Nautica pillows until late last evening approaching 11:30 pm, I slept soundly until 3:00 am when I got up and took another round of analgesics which put me under until 7:30 am. I then languished in bed until shortly after eight o’clock when I succumbed to the conscientious urge (or should I say purge) to greet the day.  I saw behind the bedroom window blinds that it was another sunny day. So I got up. But only reluctantly. I was still feeling tired.

By the time I completed my ablutions and ate my magnificent breakfast of sliced apple and toasted sprouted multigrain bread with a variety of ham slices, cheddar cheese, peanut butter and honey; and after having brushed my teeth, washed my hands and put sunscreen on my brow and nose, I was ready to prosecute another day on Key Largo.

But as I say it was too early to swim in the sea. So after completing a respectable 3.18 Kms on my tricycle, and seeing no one at the island swimming pool, I parked my tricycle beside the thicket, tottered through the gated entrance then set myself upon a chaise longue in direct line with the blazing sun and fell asleep. Between shifts of baking my front and my back I entertained myself by reading an article from the Sunday Times entitled “Michel Roux’s Christmas recipes” emailed to me by my erstwhile physician who I believe landed overnight at his place in Sarasota. The article reminded me of my own family’s Yuletide culinary traditions including raw oysters from New Brunswick, Champagne à l’Orange, tourtière pie, croissants with fresh butter and homemade strawberry jam.

There were interludes in and out of the pool, wherein I likewise turned like a pig on a spit.

I was alone by the pool until around noon when a woman, singularly smoking a cigarette, entered from the southern gate (from the yacht moorings). To my moderate astonishment she positioned herself immediately next to my lounge chair upon which my striped purple and white towel was displayed. This social mystery has since been resolved upon the appearance of a gentleman (presumably the woman’s husband) who has taken the remaining lounge chair of the three clustered in the immediate vicinity (though pointedly the third chair was the most remote from my own which leads me again to ask why the woman thought it appropriate to set herself immediately next to me). I confess that her initial proximity disturbed me though I fully expected elucidation in some manner or another (including the possibility that she was anomalous).

Meanwhile prior to the arrival of the gentleman two other women independently arrived and then gathered together to chat. Subsequently two other women joined the other two at a table under the pergola where they later appeared to be playing a card game.

My morning adventure today would have begun even earlier than it did had I not been consumed at my breakfast table by reading the French Revolution by Thomas Carlyle.

“Such are the shepherds of the people: and now how fares it with the flock? With the flock, as is inevitable, it fares ill, and ever worse. They are not tended, they are only regularly shorn. They are sent for, to do statute-labour, to pay statute-taxes; to fatten battle-fields (named ‘Bed of honour’) with their bodies, in quarrels which are not theirs; their hand and toil is in every possession of man; but for themselves they have little or no possession. Untaught, uncomforted, unfed; to pine dully in thick obscuration, in squalid destitution and obstruction: this is the lot of the millions; peuple taillable et corveable a merci et misericorde.”

Excerpt From
The French Revolution
Thomas Carlyle

These disturbing words put me in mind of the current Russian vulgarity being levelled upon the Ukraine. Putin’s indefensible actions sicken me. I look forward to news of his hurried demise.

The American brooding revolution is also unnerving. I find it utterly incalculable that the Republican Party seemingly persists in approbation of Donald J. Trump especially in light of the patent withdrawal of FOX NEWS from him. When the monied interests begin to distance themselves from Trump there is nothing further to moor him to the American public than perhaps his comic television absurdity.

The underlying causes of the French Revolution are generally seen as arising from the failure of the Ancien Régime to manage social and economic inequality. Rapid population growth and the inability to adequately finance government debt resulted in economic depression, unemployment and high food prices. Combined with a regressive tax system and resistance to reform by the ruling elite, it resulted in a crisis Louis XVI proved unable to manage.

“In short, all the symptoms which I have ever met with in History, previous to great Changes and Revolutions in government, now exist and daily increase in France.’ (Chesterfield’s Letters: December 25th, 1753.)”

These are disheartening sentiments for a breezy Sunday morning.  The parallels of history to modern currency is disabling. As long as those in power continue to ignore the plight of the masses, this theme of perpetual angst survives. It is an apprehension which justifiably affects everyone on every level of society.  The relatively recent histories of revolution in France, American and Russian should not be ignored as though they are ancient Hollywood movies.  The persistent themes of the obsequious alliance between church and state must also be addressed sooner than later. Thomas Paine’s words are more popular than ever. The only other lingering possibility is that an outright battle will ensue between so-called Right and Left, North and South, blah-blah-blah.  Intractability is an exceedingly small compliment to either option.