January is a month for reflection. We are forced indoors to live closer to each other so we put away sharp objects and reevaluate our relationships. This also happened in 1517 when our man, Martin Luther, evaluated the relationship of the wealthy and the priests who were selling pardons for indulgences (later perfected by the United States Congress). So in January 1518 Christoph von Scheurl told Luther “Hey, this is good stuff” so he translated Luther’s Ninety-Five Theses from Latin into German, printed, and distributed them thus giving rise to the Protestant Reformation. This in turn led to public education and the free press which led to the telephone, mechanical transportation and the gasoline engine, which is what brought me to the little town of Floyd Virginia recently.
It’s a beautiful ride along the Blue Ridge Parkway as I take a detour and stop at a general store. I could just imagine myself living in a small town like this with stores that have the original wooden floors laid down in the early ‘30’s and 40’s. I love the neighborhoods with different styled houses, not the cookie cutter homes you see now, but old buildings with style and grace and front porches with wooden corner lattices. I could write a book about mountain waterfalls and become a beloved local personality, found at the local diner every morning at 7:15 sitting at my usual table dispensing wisdom and witty remarks over cups of fresh hot coffee.
But right now I’m an aging curmudgeon with an active bladder.
I’ve lived in a small countryside community before and it’s nice but I came to realize that happiness and peace only goes so far and what really gets all my cylinders firing is a bit of irritation and disgust. For that you need a city: 1) A guy walks down the sidewalk with a baseball cap turned backwards, his pants hanging down below his rear. You want to shake him until his little wiry earphones fall out. 2) The man at the mall walking towards you appears to be babbling or arguing with you but then you see the little cell phone sticking out of his ear. 3) When I say “thank you” to a young sales clerk she says “No problem” which is not a proper reply. “You’re welcome” is a proper reply. A “thank you” should not be brushed away like stray lint. You could be pulled unconscious out of a burning three story house and a fireman carries you down the ladder then revives you and saves your life and you say “Thank you good sir! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” and he walks away and says over his shoulder, “No problem”. That’s just wrong on so many levels.
Such egregious vexations and there are others. You pick up the morning paper and read about politicians and find yourself yelling at the ceiling which terrifies the dog.
Then you read where Penn State, out of pure greed, protected a sexual predator in its midst. Another good argument for why women should take a turn at running the world.
It is the power of righteous indignation that will keep us old conservative moralists alive and hanging on in nursing homes long past our normal time. It’s medicinal. We will ward off cataracts, dementia and gout thanks to the power of anger. The righteous like me are a long lived gnarly bunch and the imperfections of others are our vitamins.
I have to stop writing now. My wife wants to see me about our relationship---something about the garbage not being taken out as promised. Again.
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