Last week, like most weeks, was not a quiet week on the Gingham Coast.
I remember as a kid watching Saturday morning Bugs Bunny cartoons. Occasionally, there'd be an episode where over a full-screen map of the United States, a dotted line would animate to illustrate Bugs' peregrinations. These peregrinations, as above, usually involved Albuquerque and often, Pismo Beach.
My dotted line this week was a butterfly in a carwash.
I started the week traveling to New York on the Amtrak. I'd imagine train travel in the United States in 2022 is about twenty-percent slower than it was in 1922. It reminds me of something I read once that the Incan roads from the 15th Century were in better repair than Peruvian roads in the 20th Century.
Nevertheless, I was lucky enough to have a nice drink with a nice potential client. And have another nice drink with a new old friend. It's a lot to travel for seven hours on the hope of potential business. But you do. As Old New York's Con Edison company used to say, "Dig We Must."
You learn along the way that life often doesn't have the "causality" you wish it had. There are very few games you play where you put in one and immediately get back one-and-a-half. Most scams and ad agencies and new technologies make that sort of promise. But in reality, most leads are long-leads.
Returning to Connecticut, next my dotted line dodged homicidal traffic and Scylla-like potholes as my wife and I drove up to Boston. Our older daughter and her husband had their first child, a boy, on Wednesday and up we went to visit Jude.
In all, the events were both somber--my best friend, the father of the groom, died late last year at 64, but joyous. A marriage of two beautiful, hopeful, hardworking and positive young people is always cause for celebration.
So, of course, was the birth of my first grandkid.
It's a strange thing getting old.
You see that your time on stage is coming to a close. "Let me finish," the great Roger Angell once implored.
Please. Let me finish.
I have, still, my burning ambitions, my need to make money, to succeed, to provide, to work with clients and to do work I believe in. But more than ever, I realize that it's the kids who are taking charge, the kids who are sitting at the main tables while I'm parked with the similarly white-haired at a table off to one side while the spotlight is on others.
That's as it should be. That's ok.
This same flower that smiles today/
Tomorrow will be dying.
William Shakespeare wrote of the Seven Ages in "As You Like It." As usual, he got it righter than almost any writer ever writ. Even Robert Herrick, cited above.