I spent the day at the Library of Congress. The hottest day we’ve had all year, and early in the morning, because I’d skipped my morning run, I decided to walk to the library from New Hampshire and M. I had snagged my aunts assistant’s parking garage space for the day, a coup. After a short breakfast with my aunt, feeling like wonder women or something, I put on my sneakers and started to walk.
Bad idea.
The approximately 3 mile trip is not a bad walk on a tepid day, but it was next to impossible today. As I approached Farragut Metro a women walking a few feet in front of me passed out. I wouldn’t have been headed there anyway had I not had doubts about my ability to face the no sidewalks, and stone blockades, on a near 100 degree day. The woman was easily revived with water, but my decision was made. Metro for me.
By the time I arrived home this evening, after taking a very unpleasant phone call, from an extremely unforgiving individual, it had started to storm, got dark, and I was just too tired.
The consequence of my resisting the loss of a quart or two of sweat, refusing to risk dehydration, or death, while pounding the steaming pavement, is the overwhelming lethargy that occurs when I don’t run, or at least walk a few miles. Here I sit in the claws of a beastly, all encompassing lassitude, frosted with remnants of a conversation with an implacable friend, now possible a former friend.
If only people were like beach sand, feeble, easily forgiving, with memories that refused to hold their shape. You can draw lines in the sand, dig holes even, and shortly the lines disappear, the holes are filled. The sand starts fresh. Why must people be like iron, cast to hardness, forever shaped by one eutectic memory?
Why is life, and everything in it, not a beach?
peace
“Oh, you were just a beach,
Not Arcady.”
It’s still a favorite line from one of my poems. I happen to think it’s apt here. People’s perception of what a thing is – be it a person or a place – is never as bad or as good as the reality of it. Our memories of anything are always 50% truth and 50% what we project onto it. We want everybody to be some kind of perfection or some approximation of it when the actuality is that our idea of perfection is also 50% truth and 50% what we project onto it as well.
mojo shivers´s last blog ..Do I Want Too Much? Am I Going Overboard To Want That Touch? I Shouted Out To The Night: “Give Me What I Deserve, ‘Cause That’s My Right!”
There must be some sand clouding our memories after all.
Just back from a few weeks in USA — had some sweltering days, and lots of thunderstorms. I enjoy the latter, and summer nights with lightning bugs flashing away. Lots of walking.
Oh Inde, where have you been. And you didn’t stop in a see me????
I hope your trip went well. Always thrilled when you stop by, missing your stories.
I”ve been impressed with summer days in D.C. It’s like, as the nations capitol, they brought together southern humidity with south-western heat. I wonder if the weather dates to reconstruction.
Doug´s last blog ..Spooker
It’s called a compromise, and you know how they usually end up. This is no exception.
I ask myself why life isn’t a beach daily at least
I couldn’t go to the beach until late as I was having some work done and needed to be here. Obviously I had to supervise as I tried to get them to put it off until Wednesday when the heat’s supposed to break and they said no
Of course they couldn’t finish and I was in a horrible mood and couldn’t drag myself the quarter mile to the beach
My friend’s mother was playing tennis in Florida, had heat stroke and died after six weeks though she was comparatively young and in great condition – kept her alive those six weeks so as I get older I find myself taking heat stroke much more seriously than I used to – I didn’t even have AC until I was 40. Thought it for wimps
Drink that water and get out there
pia´s last blog ..President Obama on health care
There is a lot of dying of heat stroke. Every summer some reasonably healthy person collapses and everyone is like..how did that happen?
I’d like to say I feel sorry for you..being to the beach late and all but living such a short distance away I have more envy — it craps down my sympathy.
D.C. sucks in the summer, especially August and you can walk in sections but to walk the whole city is impossible, too many obstructions.
People remember way too much, hold too many grudges.
I try to think of them as sculptures. Doesn’t help.
Just think, Obama’s death panel might consider you undesirable for not braving the heat.
Haven’t been to DC this summer. I kinda miss it. Not the swampy heat but miss the social scene.
Chris´s last blog ..You Can’t Fix Stupid
I don’t like the social scene in D.C. it way to pretentious in the way New York’s never was. Wanna be politicians, think tankers, politicians, or people who want to be one or all of the above. All looking the same, including me at times. Not enough variety for me.
I don’t know the why’s, just that it mustn’t be. Because if it were, then surely I wouldn’t continually yearn to be at the beach.
I’ve always loved watching the waves washing over footprints in the sand, at first leaving just a small indentation, and eventually erasing any trace. That always felt symbolic to me. Somehow.
Symbolic of what should be. That’s the way I look at it.
The last place I want to be on a hot day is D.C. My D.C. clients take the train up here, or drive up, just to get out of town.
We would be better off if parts of our memory were more like sand, that’s for sure.
jacob´s last blog ..William Powell, Distinguished Service Award Winner.
Your clients must like you Jacob. There are some people that think D.C. is the bomb and don’t drive out of the circle.
My life is a beach. At least I live on one.
But people suck with all their memories, they hold grudges, can’t let go of small childhood trauma or small adult drama.
I love the Library of Congress. I’ve only been there once, and that was for some copyright research.
I’m used to riding a bike in almost 100 degree temperature, the breeze near the ocean helps. D.C. is beyond stifling in the summer. You are wise not to walk that miserable small city in the heat.
g´s last blog ..Death and Taxes
Cooper,
I like your writing. Edgy, arty, thought provoking.
Forgiveness is a slow process. Much slower than the ever changing shape of the beach.
Bring Back Pluto
“ONE of THE GUYS”
Thank you bring back Pluto and I’ll be sure to come around next time I need a dating profile.
Cities south of NY are hell in the summer, most of them with too much construction to be worth walking.
Wish we could all be like sand, just doing whatever, a different shape — depending on the day, never remembering the nasty things that happened. Great idea. When do we start
jake´s last blog ..Quick Hit
Next Monday. I have too many memories I want to drown my sorrow in and too many vengeful thoughts I want to enjoy to do it any sooner.
Why, with words and writing like that you become a policy geek I will never understand.
I take cabs or subways in all cities but NY. That’s a walkers city. I have not been there enough. You would have been dripping by the time you got to the library anyway. Not a good idea.
Blowing you kisses for the last paragraph, it lets me know the policy geek in you has not taken over.
kait´s last blog ..Black Coats
oh and this line from the more recent post with the comments off
“Tbeing used as patsies, out there trying to disrupt town halls like drunk college frat boys disrupt poetry readings.”
loved it
kait´s last blog ..Black Coats
The p geek monster is sometimes
overwhelmed by some other weird
unidentifiable creature.
The last paragraph is why I keep coming back.
So I should post it every couple of days then?
Hello, Cooper. I was actually commenting on a baseball blog after stopping by Blogcatalog. So I checked out you recent Healthcare blog — good stuff if you needed to be told.
Then I saw this post. Talk about odd! (I wrote about the LOC purely on a lark — as I was searching for archived photos I could use in the book.
Anyways, I apologize in an effusive manner for the long ago departure from a rational take.
But I hope you are doing well — and the summer has gone swell.
Jason P.´s last blog ..Library of Congress: Home to Our History, A National Treasure
I’ll have to check it out tomorrow. I am getting older and lately have had to hit the sack shortly after midnight. ;(