A Difficult Choice

 

Daniel Ellsberg has cancer.  He says he is writing the last pages of the final chapter.  Yes, I knew him in high school and he was a good friend of my brother.  My friends rolled their eyes but indulged my shameless hyperbole as I joked about how, on a date many years later, I convinced him to turn against the Vietnam War.  Thus, the Pentagon Papers.  History.

At a Kingswood/Cranbrook  reunion, I made sure that the Republican Senator Alan Simpson overheard me when I said that Ellsberg was our most illustrious alum.  (Simpson can have the last laugh now as I would gladly place him back in the Senate in exchange for any one of the hapless Republicans.)

Ellsberg is still speaking out.  Still making news.  And, I hope still appreciated for the difficult life he chose.

Another Mystery

 

The mysterious act of kindness the other day prompts me to mention once again one of my favorite moments that remains unexplained.  Shortly after suffering a heart attack, I was on my way to the doctor when I stopped at Whole Foods.  When I returned to my locked car, there was a small enamel cross on the front seat.  My friends wondered as I did: How did it there?  

I ended up not being invested in solving the mystery as much as enjoying how it made me feel:  Alive and fortified for the future.  During the same time, my friend Phyllis gave me a little Buddha.  I said to myself:  "Now I'm really covered."

The Unexpected

 

Recently I was having brunch with my friend Phyllis at our favorite diner.  You know the place.  A huge plastic menu filled with great selections, cheap and delicious.

When it came time to leave, the waitress told us our bill had been paid for.  "By whom?", we asked.  "I really don't know," she said.  When we called the manager over to ask the same question, he gave the same reply.

We gave a big tip and left the diner deep into a discussion of the kindness of strangers.

Today, I dropped my heavy package by the elevators to go pick up my mail.  (I'll be so glad when the election is over and my mailbox is not overflowing.)  When I returned, there was a little card in the shape of a star sitting beside my package.  And a piece of chocolate candy.  The card said, "Oh what a beautiful day."

I came upstairs contemplating the kindness of strangers.  And the delightful mysteries that we never expect.

It's Classic

 

I'm in love with the World Baseball Classic.  When I told this to my friend Myles, he couldn't believe it. "In the middle of March Madness, you're watching baseball?"  "Well", I said defensively, "I did keep turning to the Northwestern vs. UCLA game and I stayed for the few minutes when they got close."

But I didn't miss the grand slam that pulled the USA ahead of Venezuela in the eighth and sealed the victory.  Remember, the USA team is not like Jordan's Dream Team that big-footed USA against the world in the Olympics.  There are just as many major leaguers on the Latin America teams. It's a fair fight.

This brand of baseball is so exciting.  Packed stands.  Giant flags waving.  Players that put every emotion on display in the dugout and on the field.  The players say that are pumped!

USA vs. Cuba tonight.  A game a White Sox fan can really love as we are well represented on both teams.  Can the tiny baseball-mad island beat the giant to the north?

This is the season of upsets.  Time to join the fun.

Hacked

 

Old age?  Lack of computer know how? Self-centered whining?  All I know is that this invasion of my life online dealt me a larger psychological blow than I ever imagined something like this would do.

Like the Ancient Mariner, I felt compelled to tell my story.  What I got back were worse stories from my friends about what had happened to them.  I remembered Harry Browne, the libertarian, who ran for President several years ago.  He said:  “Don’t do anything that requires your signature.”

I’d so love to say now:  “I will not do anything that requires my password.”

No such luck,  Right?