Epiphany

January 6, 2015

Epiphany Christmas is over. I took down the tree and the decorations.

Constant rumble of machinery, the constant disturbance as the remarkably slow process of installing sidewalks continues. I may be the only person on the street who never bitched about not having sidewalks. Yesterday drained me of all must everything that belongs to a living being except the brute fact of life.

Went to see The Imitation Game, the story of Alan Turning, and found it unexpectedly disturbing. Dear God, one must pray, let nothing important depend on me.

Man on the radio, BBC I think, saying, “It’s a golden age of surveillance.” I regret the sound of excitement in his voice.

Offer of cash for 62 Lakeshore. I need it. I want it. Only loyalty to an agreement– unsigned, unofficial, unnoted except for the mind, not even a handshake, as I recall– keeps me from snapping it up. I know the same courtesy would not be afforded me if things were reversed. My folly has benefited many others. I suppose that’s a form of virtue.

A woman drags her 2 year old and a baby in a carrier into the cafe. She says to the little boy, "You can have anything you want."
"I want that, mama."
"Oh, no, that's not good for you."
"OK, mama, that."
"I wish you would pick something with not so much sugar."
"I want that."
"No..  no. . ."
"Can I have that?"
" No, sweetie, that's just not a good choice."
"What CAN I have?"
"Sweetheart, you can have anything you want--"

The arctic rolling across the lakes and the plains toward us.