Funny the Way It Is

We are enjoying a run of summer days, in terms of heat and beautiful, blue skies, here in New England even though the calendar says autumn has begun. And it has, as I look at the trees and see more color and bare limbs this week than I saw last week.

I'm off from work, again, today, which should cheer immensely those with whom I share the workspace, so that I can join my wy wife and our daughter as we head north to near Springfield, to see neither Bart nor Honest Abe, but to be a part of what I have taken to calling New England's Largest Vowel Movement, The Big E.  

It's a state fair with everything that such a term entails and so much more. They deep-fry the most amazing things and, more amazing than that is they sell them to others to eat and they do. This year, in honor of my earlier adventures of the weekend, I'll wear my Superhero medal because there are, I suspect, people who have not yet seen it, despite my incessant self-aggrandizement efforts. I'll be bringing a ballpoint pen of course because I always have one and because I expect to be signing autographs. Or not.

I am enjoying our lovely weather only slightly troubled by the knowledge of the awful and horrible weather and its aftermath that millions if not tens of millions of other people are enduring. As a matter of fact, as I understand the TV meteorologists, one of the consequences of those killing rains and winds there is the lovely weather we are having here. 

It's a little disconcerting to me how we can accept our interconnectivity no matter where in the world we are when we look up to the skies but are unable/unwilling to see any of it across the globe when we look into one another's faces and hearts. 
-bill kenny