Maurice and Me

It’s about me: full moon on the water lights a bright swath stretching from the shoreline beneath my feet all the way across St. Andrew Bay to Magnolia Beach west of me, capped by two tall condominiums highrising from the Gulf sand and pointing at the lesser light above me. Up there by itself it doesn’t seem lesser though, seems quite in charge. The lesser light to rule the night.

Luna.

It’s about me, here in my bayside chair early mornings, coffee on the windowsill, gazing across my Bay as I write a blog post to monitor my ongoing sanity. Ongoing or outgoing, everwhich, never certain. It may hold through signing documents closing on the sale of the house just down the bayshore, that was mine for awhile. What can I take with? The answer is you can’t take it with you, one way or other, you have to leave it. It’s about me, and I’ll come back to this before it’s over, count on it. 

Musing. One of many unprofitable habits is tapping one of half dozen or ten comic strip icons on my iPad screen, yesterday Doonesbury and they were running a Classic Doonesbury, an adventure strip from 1982, Duke and Honey starting their smuggling operation. It being their first job, Honey quotes a price of $35 for Duke to run out to meet a freighter at sea off Miami. It doesn’t go well. 

May 1982. Exams to finish my middler year at Lutheran Theological Seminary Gettysburg, including my course at the Episcopal seminary in Virginia that took me to Washington at least once a week for studies and business. Like Maurice Chevalier, I remember it well. It was about me then too. I remember it well.

W