A short list of my college learning:
you can drink bad beer when it’s free,
you can’t cram for finals on caffeine alone,
you can watch Star Trek episodes for the nth time,
you can make spaghetti sauce out of ketchup,
Naval ROTC cadets make great radio engineers,
even the news director gets free LPs,
mescaline is not advised for exam pep,
0.98 GPA requires negotiation to remain,
English can be an accidental major.
A short list of my college missed learning:
fail calculus if you never go to class
formal organic chemistry, not self-applied,
not reading any Chaucer before writing the final paper
grad schools look at GPA, not just GRE,
sleeping through morning classes not a good strategy,
Medieval history is boring,
Symbolic logic is anything but.
Conclusion: Got the diploma so
parents money well invested.classes
The most interesting thing about visiting
websites from foreign news services
is that so many offer content in English
and how deaths that occur locally seem
to invoke the same sadness, horror, belated honor,
and that local disasters take precedence
over our own disasters not merely because
it happened there and not here,
but because the losses are greater, the damage
far worse, the faces far less white.
We hold the world up to the mirror often,
but is only our face we see, and those like us
standing behind, and we are blind
to so much of what goes on around us,
because this color blindness is of the sort
that disables seeing at all rather
than seeing all in monochrome.
You never know how the news will arrive
you are just certain of its arrival.
You know it on some level, even as the event
is happening, but that doesn’t blunt
the piercing tip of the blade
that finds the soft spot in you and cuts deeply.
You hoped for a miracle for her, for her son,
her husband, for those who knew her
gentle smile, warm compassion, cutting wit,
when the situation demanded.
She was a friend who would appear
when needed most and slip away
when the need began to dissipate.
The news came today, the hole is fresh
and you can only attempt to fill it with memories,
knowing even as it seems again full
as do so many others as you age,
when you step into it you will plunge
back into the well of loss
and again struggled to find the sun
hiding in a too often darkening sky.
This morning absolutely nothing happened. The newswires were silent, or repeated old stories. The sports wires had nothing of note to say, save repeating yesterday’s scores. Even the gossip news was absent, as though a Saturday night passed without embarrassment. I did not mind the quiet, the almost silence, able to listen to the Mockingbird’s song. But I did wonder how the wrecking ball in Washington so badly overslept.