It would not interest you why I was Googling “weird Cajun expressions.” True fact: this was related to a certain Executive Director of my acquaintance who shall remain unnamed to protect the strange, but whose name rhymes with “Ronathan.”
Don’t know about you, but I could really use a drink just about now. Of course, I’ll heed my father’s advice and hold off: when you “need” a drink it’s the time to not have one. Instead, blog. That last wasn’t a thing when my dad was on this side of the rainbow bridge, but […]
I’m here to tell you that your tardiness is no problem. It’s OK to miss the tidal wave of a trend. It’s OK to take your time. It’s OK to be late to the party, as long as you party with us whenever you get here.
It would be a strange thing not to acknowledge that strange things are happening. Unsolved Mysteries has returned.* Tiger King now seems like ancient retro viewing (we were so young then!). Ordinary people are becoming opinionated experts in virology. And galumphing hordes of cats are getting adopted in strange and wondrous ways.
What do you do with the remnants? More urgently: what becomes of you when you realize you’re a remnant?
Silver linings are of utmost importance right now. Finding the happy and clinging to it is central to self-preservation.
In times of tumult, we need brave, tender leadership. We need a face full of light, a heart full of love, and a strong, sturdy spine that remembers how to dance. We need (so very much) humility. We need someone less like an emperor and more like a Town Councilman.*
Things can get heavy, huh? I’m talking global pandemic blues; tears for our country and world; the continuing crisis shortage of Cherry Zero; and the million million little and large agonies of ordinary life.