Now that Dick Cheney’s memoirs have been published, he’s back at home, devoting himself to house training a new puppy…twenty more water board sessions ought to do it.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Not everything leaned toward the grim on that last expedition of the Pequod. One of our favorite jokes involved hiding Ahab’s artificial leg. Then one of us would scoot up to the crow’s nest and shout, “The white whale! He breaches, by God! It is that demon Moby Dick!” It never failed. Ahab would come hopping out of his cabin on his good leg, and fall on his keester every time.
Of course, the voyage didn’t end all that well…
Saturday, November 5, 2011
On my walk in the park this morning, a couple with a small child had staked out a picnic table. The man’s got the cell phone jammed to his ear, talking, on the bench with his elbows on his knees, his back against the concrete table, the child off to the side. The woman wants something from the car nearby. He turns, mid-conversation, aims the keys at the car, and beeps the door lock mechanism. But it doesn’t open, even as she’s walking toward the vehicle. She tells him that. He throws the keys to her, continuing his phone chat. She misses, has to pick them up from the ground. She walks toward the car. This might be her once chance to get away, just go, drive off. Leave him. Let him deal with it. Maybe he’ll notice her when she’s gone. Mama’s sorry. One day you’ll understand.
By the time she reached their car, I had moved on. I like to think that the least she did was to take a few moments for herself.