foomart foomart

Did you know that Plastic Bertrand did a version of Major Tom, in French? Well, you do now.

It was a good Lazy Sunday <tm Small Faces> in which I did three things I'd been putting off (painted the trash cans, dealt with the worm bin, and dug into the huge pile of papers in my office which had been blown into a mess on a windy day) and mostly didn't do anything else but close my eyes and drift away. It's nice to live this way, a very soft life.

I was thinking yesterday about how fortunate we are. On the boat we went by downtown Manhattan and, despite the big blue wrongness in the sky down there, we really are doing fine. We got hit, once—let's not worry about by whom just now—but we're mostly fine. We've never had planes flying overhead dropping bombs, we've never seen bodies in the streets here. (Yeah, they were there, but only for a day or two, and 99% of us never saw a thing.) Things could be so much worse. It's easy to dwell on how much worse they could be, and the path between here and there, but it's just as easy to realize how good we've got it. I choose to focus my energies in the positive direction, and I think it matters.

Maybe I'm just a happy little froggie relaxing in this nice hot bath, but this way I go down happy, and that's all I can ask for. And what if I'm right and we are actually creating the reality we think about?