My colleagues gathered not long ago to bid me bon voyage; my children visited for the Christmas holiday. Their company reminds me how fortunate I am to have them and their affection, and how, in some sense, illogical, even unwise, it is to leave them. Love is here, you know, affection, regard, comfort. And love is no small thing. And it’s not as if one were going on some great, necessary quest or to war or in search of truth. Perhaps this reconnaissance will prove merely the walkabout of a gadabout. And bad things can happen to gadabouts on walkabouts. Earlier this month, “The 485-foot Baltic Ace collided with the 440-foot container ship Corvus J in darkness near busy shipping lanes some 40 miles off the coast of the southern Netherlands…. Four crew members died and seven were missing in the icy waters of the North Sea.” (AP, Dec. 7, 2012). Awful. Granted, no mention is made of the loss of gadabouts, but my point is that love, at least in my experience, has never prevented anyone from doing something stupid—quite the contrary. And yet, in my experience, things, even stupid things, have worked out to the relatively loving present. Love doesn’t prevent anyone ill-advisedly going anywhere; love does insure, however, that he will return.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Do Nowego Roku
As the holidays subside, I’m finding, or rather taking, time
to anticipate leaving, the actual, physical driving off, rolling away in the
night to points east. The auto insurance has been adjusted for my absence, but
the oil will still need to be changed before I go. I’ll leave the brake work
until July. And the packing has begun. I discover that you cannot travel light
when you are transporting books, and I cannot live six months abroad without a
few at hand—okay, two dozen—or write without reference. Heavy as bricks, they
serve as both touchstone and ballast to a mind like mine. Just one black bag
full though, no steamer trunk. A couple of laptops and the merest modicum of
clothing.
My colleagues gathered not long ago to bid me bon voyage; my children visited for the Christmas holiday. Their company reminds me how fortunate I am to have them and their affection, and how, in some sense, illogical, even unwise, it is to leave them. Love is here, you know, affection, regard, comfort. And love is no small thing. And it’s not as if one were going on some great, necessary quest or to war or in search of truth. Perhaps this reconnaissance will prove merely the walkabout of a gadabout. And bad things can happen to gadabouts on walkabouts. Earlier this month, “The 485-foot Baltic Ace collided with the 440-foot container ship Corvus J in darkness near busy shipping lanes some 40 miles off the coast of the southern Netherlands…. Four crew members died and seven were missing in the icy waters of the North Sea.” (AP, Dec. 7, 2012). Awful. Granted, no mention is made of the loss of gadabouts, but my point is that love, at least in my experience, has never prevented anyone from doing something stupid—quite the contrary. And yet, in my experience, things, even stupid things, have worked out to the relatively loving present. Love doesn’t prevent anyone ill-advisedly going anywhere; love does insure, however, that he will return.
Let’s then into the New Year.
My colleagues gathered not long ago to bid me bon voyage; my children visited for the Christmas holiday. Their company reminds me how fortunate I am to have them and their affection, and how, in some sense, illogical, even unwise, it is to leave them. Love is here, you know, affection, regard, comfort. And love is no small thing. And it’s not as if one were going on some great, necessary quest or to war or in search of truth. Perhaps this reconnaissance will prove merely the walkabout of a gadabout. And bad things can happen to gadabouts on walkabouts. Earlier this month, “The 485-foot Baltic Ace collided with the 440-foot container ship Corvus J in darkness near busy shipping lanes some 40 miles off the coast of the southern Netherlands…. Four crew members died and seven were missing in the icy waters of the North Sea.” (AP, Dec. 7, 2012). Awful. Granted, no mention is made of the loss of gadabouts, but my point is that love, at least in my experience, has never prevented anyone from doing something stupid—quite the contrary. And yet, in my experience, things, even stupid things, have worked out to the relatively loving present. Love doesn’t prevent anyone ill-advisedly going anywhere; love does insure, however, that he will return.
