Best of Augustine Friday evenings to you, my friends.
In this crazy world, may you find some sun-drenched moments of profound beauty, discovery, or human connection that gets you through at least until bedtime. Enjoy the savor.
On a different note, may more of the Universe’s mystery unfold so as to explain a few ever-burning queries:
How is it that there is a national hip recall? (Yes, as in ‘hip replacement’)
How is it that Bristol Palin is handed further celebrity by being invited to compete in the all-star edition of “Dancing With the Stars”?
How is it that there are several dozen reality shows (in production) that explore and exploit some of the worst behavior in television? The telly’s ugly underbelly keeps its clench with such fodder as: bounty hunters, trailer park melodrama, Amish kingpins and their enforcers, kiddie beauty pageants, filthy restaurants, filthy bars, filthy homes, brides “behaving badly”, swamp lords, and extreme hoarders.
How is it that the Republican Party here in the U.S. exalts hyper-conservative politicos like Rand Paul, Michelle Bachman, John Boehner, Paul Ryan, Scott Walker, and North Carolina’s own Virginia Foxx?
How can an alleged murderer claim “assisted suicide” as his defense when the victim was beaten by four people, struck in the head with a pick axe, strangled, given an overdose of horse tranquilizers, and then finally had his head duct-taped inside a plastic bag?
How is it that social networking sites fail to realize that it will be their corporate arrogance and failure to provide consumer advocacy that will ultimately be their downfall, unravelling their subscribers?
How is it that a new line of UK paper towels (with a tattoo-inspired motif) can actually sell for $9 (USD)?
Finally, how is it that, here in the United States, quite a few civil rights, freedoms, and liberties vary from state to state? I am 57. Jon is 67. And we’d be much better off if we packed our tired selves into the Jeep and moved out of North Carolina.
Those are my “soap-box” issues for this glimmering, yet balmy dusk. There is yet the chance opportunity to find a random bloom in my pine-needle strewn garden, a new friend, or some sublime “work” of beauty that is an inspired and unexpected creation. Those, my friends, are indeed often the best of moments.
Regardless of Henry and Pfluffer’s valiant and relentless efforts, I know that such “moments” do not include stowaway tree frogs that burrow inside house plants … that will soon return to the sunroom.
Be gentle and be kind. If the stars, cell phone minutes, and Facebook “pokes” all align, perhaps tonight the pusses will host one of their famous candlelight soirées at Marklewood. Thank you, Hyacinth.
(Image: “Millennium Burial Mound” by Julie Heffernan, 2012.)