Ah! The Lady in Red smiled last night on her final weather update for the day. She looked at us from the flatscreen with vivacious promise. “Tomorrow will be the most glorious day of the Spring so far!” she pronounced with authority. “Bright skies, a few puffy clouds, and soft breezes wafting gently from the Southeast!” Then she frowned and paused her luminous red lips. “But it is going to get chill and crappy after Wednesday.”
She gave a pert wave of her nicely coiffed hair and signed off to let the earth does what it does. I sighed. The group staff meeting was coming up, the one that is uncomfortable because of the competing interests at the table. What should be pure discussion of issues and content become submerged in the petty concerns of the Compliance Staff, who urge us to do the most extraordinary things in the interest of something they call “equity,” as if there are dozens of people outside who have contributed nothing to the process, written not a word, and want the same sort of privilege as those who drag themselves out of bed by 10:00 and suffer the opinions of others before lunch.
Not to mention the Legal Schmucks, sadly thumbing through ancient legislation from 1918 and 1934, thinking there may be wisdom or folly contained within.
We are all equally guilty, of course, and just pleased to express our opinion of the weather, whether we have exhaled CO2 or not. But that is the lovely land we live in this week. The stuff flooding out of the flatscreen through the rest of the day was just like the weather. Peace today, changing dramatically with the wave of reporting about some trial someplace. The lovely skies will change their color, they say, with accompanying gusts of bluster tinged with bright flashes of civic disorder.
Walter Mondale must have heard the forecast. Sadly, that member of the old Ruling Class left us on the verge of something else. I predict- not forecast- some interesting events late this week or early the next. It will be what it will be. The only alternative is to go out to the parking lot and yell at the sky.
Copyright 2021 Vic Socotra
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