Six and Counting

Six years.  You’d think it would be all over after six years.  You’d think you could celebrate the first day of spring instead of the sixth death day.  You’d think you could visit with a neighbor without falling apart.  You’d think you could visit with a close friend without wanting to drop into a hole because of your idiotic behavior.  You’d think all that, would you not?

                     The sun shone so bright

                      it seemed like a grand new day

                      of a grand new spring.

Maybe next year.


Can I?

I seem to spend more than a little time standing in lines at my local.  So, of course, I listen to the words of those ahead of me in line.  Who wouldn’t?  What else is there to do?  Unfortunately, as it happens, I often hear phrases that for some reason irk me.  Perhaps, I thought to myself this morning, if I write about it I can stopped being irked and get on with my usual enjoyment of life at my local.

So, here it is, and please try not to laugh out loud and call me all sorts of fool.  When asked how they can be helped today, perhaps a majority of folks will start by saying either “can I have” or “could I get” whatever.  I stand and wonder if any of them have ever received the answer “no”.  OK, yes, this is extraordinarily trivial to think about, but it has been on my mind for a while and therefore you get a good laugh this morning.

Having brought up what I consider to be a misuse of language, I feel responsible for offering a different phrasing:  “I would like”.  Now we no longer have a question, but a statement.  How nice.  No longer need one beg for the whatever, or cringe in anticipation of that cruel “no”.

OK, now it is on you, and I can move forward to the next irky something.  Or perhaps, I can finally do as Khar (the ghatti Gayle Greeno writes about in her novels) does:  simply let the sarcasm (or irk inducer) float over my head, refusing to puncture it.  Yes.  Indeed.