Visions of Normal Life Dance Tantalizingly in my Mind

Amanda Gorman at the inauguration 

I don't flinch when I my phone pings with a news alert. 

I don't go to Twitter or news sites fearful of what horrible thing has happened now.

When I think about the future of the country I don't sink into despair.

There's hope.

I get an email on inauguration day evening from a cousin in Finland who expressed relief at the swearing in of the new president and offered congratulations to the United States. This reflected the feelings of many around the world and in the U.S. I watched the ceremonies and it felt like the nation had awakened from a nightmare.

I got choked up when Kamala Harris -- the first woman Vice President and the first Vice President of color -- was sworn in. Change is slow but most welcome when it arrives. I loved the poem by that lovely young woman, Amanda Gorman, who has become instantly famous.

Earlier this week drought-stricken Northern California suffered well above average temperatures, dry conditions and fierce winds. Beyond depressing. Today it is cold, we've had scattered showers and it looks as if more is to come. Thank you, President Biden.

In a couple of hours I'll have my annual physical which I do every year and once every twelve months. I had my blood work done last month and if anything was amiss I'd have already heard (one supposes) I've got no terrible aches or pains to report so I'm anticipating a routine visit. My weight is probably a little too much owing to gyms being closed and me not being able to do aerobics. I do work out at home six days a week and take long walks so I'm not morbidly obese. Plus my diet is good. On the other hand there is my emotional state which, given severe depression and occasional anxiety, is far from perfect. But I haven't contemplated jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge and have yet to run down the street naked, waving a meat cleaver, so I'm getting along all right. 

It has come to my attention that I get older everyday. This was of little consequence when I was ten years old or twenty-three of thirty-six or even fifty. But for the last ten years it's something that I think about -- far too much. I've not come up with the a solution to this getting older business nor the fact that it inevitably leads to death. The idea of being no more is a difficult one to comprehend but we all face it. I suppose the key is how we face it. Needless to say living each day we have to the fullest is a highly recommended approach. I am not altogether successful at this. Many days I barely live at all if depression has a firm grip. But even on my worst days I usually manage to watch and enjoy a film, read a bit and take sustenance. Many people are much worse off. We're now heading into the direction of counting one's blessings which should be done right along with living to the fullest.

It is of great comfort to be able to write and not be awful at it. Today I wrote the first draft of a short story and am writing this, of course. For much of the week I've been working on novel number four. I manage to write every weekday and most weekend days as well. Thank the heavens for that.

There's no escaping the fact that coronavirus is still with us and many more will die from it. It's odd to think that much of what the missus and I have done these past ten months has been centered around merely staying alive. Wearing masks, maintaining social distances, avoiding particularly crowded orgies and the like. As a decrepit old man I won't have to wait long to get the vaccine. That'll be still another great relief. Visions of normal life dance tantalizingly in my mind. The new administration in Washington will help facilitate that in countless ways.

Cheers, everybody.