I ousted myself from bed before eight o’clock this morning and did thereafter all that is customarily entailed. Breakfast was at its customary time. The only event which prolonged the performance was a welcome communication with a retail supplier with whom we’ve lately had some controversy. By the time I cycled to Coligny Beach Park shortly after noon the crowds had already begun streaming off the beach homeward bound. They and their beach wagon contraptions laden with umbrellas, towels and foldable chairs were cluttering the bicycle paths in the vicinity to the point of obstruction. The blue sky had been overtaken by an uninteresting grey map. The beachgoers vanish like gnats when Sol disappears from view. There lingered groups of shirtless young men playing volleyball or other beach games. But the serious sun worshippers had packed it up.

The evaporation didn’t bother me.  I am unaccustomed to the crowds.  And from what I saw of the surviving traces there was nothing of a photographic nature which particularly stimulated me.  The dreary sky dampened the overall look anyway. The good news was it was low tide and the wind was strong and at my back. It was an effortless ride to Sea Pines Beach Club along the wide, isolated and colourless beach.

I nonetheless persisted in my ritual attempt to capture some snaps which would if nothing else afford me the capital for my amateur production later while performing my afternoon protocol and sipping my espresso. I’m never sure whether its the rite or the reason that legitimizes the liturgy. Nor frankly do I care. Mine is a simple dedication to what works, like an old dog accustomed to his morning walk. Long ago I abandoned the indispensability of authentication or ulterior purpose.  Indeed even as I aimlessly bicycled this morning along Greenwood Drive past Sea Pines Forest Preserve I forced myself to relinquish any thought of the future and to contemplate instead the detail of path within meters of my sight, the Palmetto ferns to my right, the blue sky above (it hadn’t yet been cloistered), the ineffable joy of flying noiselessly along the path with the wind against my face and the carefree sense that all was well. These distilled moments of euphoria are I confess not entirely unique in my life.  But I am conscious too that my luck may one day run out.  Yet I am prepared for the storm.  As I said but a moment ago – during an interlude to answer an email from a dear friend on the opposite western coast – “In the end there are cigars and whisky!” I say that metaphorically naturally.  There’s also Tylenol.  The point is I have no intention of suffering. Pain is surmountable.  Sherlock Holmes knew so!  I imagine Oscar Wilde didn’t actually tolerate the wallpaper!

Post Scriptum

Hello, Marilyn!

Thank-you for your email.  Trust this finds you and your cat well.  You should buoyant – always a good sign!

Not sure I’d ever agree to fight anyone anywhere.  I have learned to flee argument of any description, not I think because I am especially pusillanimous but rather I have a low opinion of war and differences generally.  Criticism in my opinion – at any level – is autobiographical.  So I see the dispute as someone else’s problem, not mine.  And war is just plain stupid.  Engaging in it to prove so is hardly axiomatic. This is not to say either that I am “neutral” about things; I am not.  I have opinions but I am convinced there can be solutions.  When I practiced law I was an adjudicator of disputing parties who had independent lawyers (in the same room at the same time as the rest of us).  Those lawyers chose me to be the adjudicator. We reached an agreement.  I am not especially clever about it.  I told them, “Don’t dare leave the room before we settle this!”

As for my medical problems I have relegated that to my physician, it’s his problem. I’ve already had MRIs and X-rays and a neuropathy specialist. I am willing to accept “damaged goods” if they can’t figure it out; I have Tylenol if all else fails. We are however meeting the GP to discuss April 20th.  Meanwhile I am meeting my jeweller on April 14th.  My endodontist on May 6 and my cardiologist on May 17th.  As a friend recently observed following the death just days ago of his spouse, “It is what it is; deal with it!”  In the end, there are cigars and whisky!

Cheers!

Bill