December 19,2024- As she served my coffee cake muffin, warmed with butter, I exchanged Thanksgiving stories with the proprietor of the small coffee shop, on the first floor of Prescott Antiques. A gentleman entered, and after a bit, the conversation turned to jukeboxes. He is a collector of the appliances, and was preparing to take ownership of the Wurlitzer model that had sat in the corner of the shop, for about three years. It seems, unsurprisingly, that there are over a dozen brands of the machine. Wurlitzer is the brand that I have seen most often.

When he and his team removed the jukebox, there was a white area on the mostly yellow wall. The barista fretted a bit about the appearance of the spot. Before long, the store’s owner came down and also noted that the area was two-toned. He got some yellow paint, a medium brush and some newspaper, and painted a small test area. I told him it looked a bit brighter than the rest of the yellow, but that is the difference between fresh and faded. So, he continued to paint the rest of the spot.

I left the coffee shop, after finishing my muffin and drink, and went upstairs to the minerals area. The owner and his wife were still discussing the paint job. I felt it was fairly routine, but to them, it was the center of the morning’s activity. My center was picking out two emerald green stones to bring to my friend, in late January. Everything is relative.

So, on we go, inching our individual and collective ways towards a Christmas that appears to be an after-thought, or an impediment, to many in positions of civic responsibility. Governments, at the Federal, state, local and even tribal levels, are fighting among themselves over matters that are even less important, at their level, than the bare spot in the corner of a ground floor room is to the owners of the business.

Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, in the small French city of Avignon, an indomitable woman, who had been assaulted by no fewer than 52 men, over a period of ten years, won her case against them, with the support of her children and siblings. He former husband and his partners in crime were found guilty of all charges. This is what really matters, in the larger scheme of things. May the case of Michele Pelicot resound worldwide, as loudly as the Dreyfus case did, in 1906.

In times of confusion, priorities can be scrambled. Clear-headedness, then is all the more vital. The people in the antiques store tended to their fairly small task with dispatch. The court in the Rhone Valley took longer, but sorted the details and served justice to the unwavering victim and her family. Will our governments here in the U.S.-and Canada find their bearings?