Steam blew out of her mouth and fogged her glasses against the backdrop of the night sky. Rubber-and-leather-clad feet crunched on gravel, echoing against the whip of flags in the wind, the sirens, the thrum of jet engines. Even with the ghostly pencil of stone carving a swath between a crescent moon and two planets, she sighed. The National Mall on a windy night wasn't her idea of a fun slog after a zig-zagging day of work, dashing from place to place to place around the District.
One of my responsibilities as President of the East Cooper Breakfast Rotary Club is High Priestess of Meetings. I run them, from the time a person walks through the door to sign in to the time they flee to the safety of their vehicles and go about their work days.
MTM and I had dinner with Lou and the Lovely Miss TK Mello last night. While he is a regular commenter on this (and many other) blogs, he does not like to talk about himself.
So, I will talk about him for the whole internet to see.
It may not be peaceful, but it will be fun. We’re announcing the soiree this early because, if you are a regular reader of this blog and would like to be here to fete Lou’s official retirement, we want YOU to join us. Whether you live close to Charleston or further afield, you’re invited. Please message me if you think you would like to make the trek, because Charleston is ranked number 4 in Travel & Leisure’s World’s Best of 2012 Hall of Fame. It’s a lovely place to visit in January. Not crowded. Camelias blooming. We can make recommendations for your accommodations so that you can attend the party and celebrate Lou. Maybe we can convince MTM to do his official Mayors’ Institute Tour of Charleston for the group.
Mark your calendars, and make your plans. Lou’s retiring, which means he is going to drive many of us mad with Rotary business.
And, that’s also worth celebrating.
Lou Mello (left) and James Moffitt (right) at another party. We’re party people over here.
This post is part of the series The Soundtrack of Life. If this is your first visit to the series, please click here for the first installment, click here for the second, click here for the third, click here for the fourth, here for the fifth, here for the sixth, herefor the seventh, here for the eighth, here for the ninth, here for the tenth, here for the eleventh and here for the twelfth. MTM wrote a great guest post, which you can find here. Thanks for your contributions and insights in the comments. They always enrich this blog, especially in a series like this one.
She lay on the floor. On her stomach. The braided rug made tread marks from knee to elbow, grooves in her pale soon-to-be second grade skin.
She didn’t care about the ruts, the indentions.
No.
She was lost in summer, and she was on the floor, kicking her legs, her face too close to the television, dreaming of hot dogs and Cracker Jacks and a chunk of watermelon sprinkled with salt.
Watching baseball with her Dad.
Do you have a favorite summertime memory from childhood?
This post is part of the series The Soundtrack of Life. If this is your first visit to the series, please click here for the first installment, click here for the second, click here for the third, click here for the fourth, here for the fifth, here for the sixth, herefor the seventh, here for the eighth, here for the ninth, here for the tenth and here for the eleventh. MTM wrote a great guest post, which you can find here. Thanks for your contributions and insights in the comments. They always enrich this blog, especially in a series like this one.
Job. I mean, I don’t want to get all biblical, because that’s not me and all that. Whatever. But Job. He suffered. God and Lucifer had a poker game, and Job was the bet, and any time God and Lucifer make someone, some actual person, the butt of a wager……well, that person is done. DONE.
So.
Job is the happiest, the most successful man in the universe. THE UNIVERSE. And, because of a bet, because God didn’t call Lucifer’s bluff or Lucifer didn’t go all Jennifer Tilly on God, didn’t shove his tits on the table along with his cards….well.
Job. Is. Screwed.
He’s sitting in a pit in sackcloth and ashes. He’s lost everything, and I mean EVERYTHING he cares about. He’s not young. Maybe he’s young enough to get it all back. Maybe he isn’t. Who knows? Because, he could live to be 732 or whatever in those days.
Perhaps.
IF his actual life expectancy isn’t part of the bet.
So, Job is sitting there in his pit. In sackcloth and ashes.
And, I’m going to make a diversion here. Because, I’m ADD. And, I’m bored with Job. I don’t care about his sackcloth, whatever the hell that is, and ashes. I care that today I had to climb a mountain. An actual volcanic rock covered with a smattering of dirt and scrub. I had to climb that geological mystery of a thing.
And, I am afraid of heights.
Going up, I am freaking out, because there are drop-offs and stuff. And, someone, some kind person, some saint, comes along and says, “You see that path? Right there? It’s easier. It’s not so steep. Not so scary. You should totally, TOTALLY take that one instead.”
“But, that’s not the best view,” I say.
“So what. It will be easier for you.”
“But, I don’t want easier. I want the view. I crave it all, man.”
“Suit yourself. You could curse your current situation and have it easier, but suit yourself.”
I kept climbing. It was muddy. And rocky. And slippery. And, there was this dog, this effing dog, that kept running under my feet and trying to make me look down, to see how high I was, how close I was to the top. A yippy, stupid, effing dog. And, in spite of that creature, that waste-of-hair-and-yapping-space, I made it to the top. I stood on a rocky crag, on top of the world, surveying the beauty of what I saw. Whatever. And, it didn’t matter that I could fall over the edge to my death. I didn’t care that the effing dog was trying to eat my lunch. I wanted to find that person who told me to take a different path, because it would be easier for me, and tell them, “Na-na-na-boo-boo! Look at me now!”
But, I had to come down from that promontory, that apex place.
Alone.
Which is harder. Going down is harder for us Acrophobes.
Still.
I thought of Job. Sitting in his hole. Waiting them all out. Winning the whole cache of chips for the good team, doubling his whole everything in the face of everyone who told him he wouldn’t. And, I thought, I’m not young anymore. Hell, I’m not even smart.
But.
I’m glad I stuck it out and saw that view.
This post is part of the series The Soundtrack of Life. If this is your first visit to the series, please click here for the first installment, click here for the second, click here for the third, click here for the fourth, here for the fifth, here for the sixth, herefor the seventh, here for the eighth, here for the ninth and here for the tenth. MTM wrote a great guest post, which you can find here. Thanks for your contributions and insights in the comments. They always enrich this blog, especially in a series like this one.
