Friday, January 4, 2019


Once there were lightning bugs, fireflies. I remember coquinas by the millions and stars that lit a purple-black sky. Now, when I hear a mockingbird's song, I'm reminded that I don't hear them very much these days. 

Terrorist. I remember when I first encountered the term. My friend, Larry Rardon, came home from a European vacation and excitedly told me that he actually saw the man whose face he had seen on a wanted poster in Germany. A terrorist. Today I assume that terrorists live in my town. Yours, too.

Cell phones? Yeah, we all remember those gigantic, walkie-talkie things that realtors and jackasses in suspenders showed off at happy hour. Now every sixteen year old behind the wheel of the BMW coming at you in your lane is swiping and texting and posting.

There is probably no need for me to go on with my grumbling. You get my point. Is Andrew Hardin right? Am I a curmudgeon?

I don't long for what was. I grieve for what could have been.

No comments:

Post a Comment