The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 73: Grasping at Straws


August 12, 2020-

I am sensing an ennui,

among the people who

comment, investigate

and postulate about

the whos, whats and whys

behind serious matters,

and more quotidian fare.

There is less concern

these days,

with fact,

than with

titillating innuendo.

There is less willingness

to work through an issue,

than to hand off

the matter to

one of the “favoured few”.

There is a joy,

when one finds “clickbait”

on an individual

whom one claims to loathe.

It’s easier to issue

an armchair condemnation,

than to call out the person

and insist on specific steps

that s(he) could take,

in order to rectify

one’s legitimate grievances.

Building legitimacy,

though, is hard work.

Back On Track


December 12,2018, Phoenix-

I got back in time to see the sun cast its brilliant hues, but being in the baggage claim area, with my camera in one of the bags- there are only the images left in my head.

The flight back was quotidian, with a curious, playful infant breaking the monotony, at the outset of our departure from Reagan National to Dallas.  That’s fine; I’ll take a captivating child, followed by crickets, any day of the week.

Dallas offered a hearty Italian sub, as my combined lunch and dinner.  I haven’t had a real Italian cold cut submarine, in about 30 years.  I was surprised that, with the line at neighbouring Chik-Fil_A spilling into the concourse, there were only three of us at Campisi’s, which holds its own-to this child of a largely Italian neighbourhood in the Northeast.

Dallas-Phoenix was also a full plane, yet I scored a second window seat in a row.  The middle seat went to the male half of a young couple, who were oblivious to anyone but one another, save for handing me my complementary coffee.  I got further into Ken Follett’s “Winter of the World”, on this return flight, so it was win-win.

The drive back looks to be uneventful, now that the rush hour traffic has abated on AZ 51, north of Bell Road.  I will take my usual Cave Creek Rd-Carefree Highway-7th Street-New River Road route to I-17, since AZ 101 is almost always in Crush Hour mode until nearly 7:30, on weeknights. Phoenix residents will know of which I speak.




November 15, 2016, Prescott-

The longest week of November is nearly halfway gone.

I take one day at a time, on this gig,

so it does not phase me,

that this is the most quotidian segment

of a season that features a plethora

of holidays.

A colleague was unaware of some functional facts,

regarding our planet’s geography.

She is no longer so much in the dark.

It seems, in this day and age,

that some would prefer

the Dark Ages.

Thinking, and being functional,

were so much easier then,

or so they suppose.