A good weekend, as I heard from all four of my favorite people in the world. Mike called on Skype and I got to see and talk to my adorable granddaughters, Violet wearing a silver mask (don't ask). Ellen had called on Saturday and the other two middle-aged kiddies contacted me electronically, so it was good.
Betty called and we made a tentative date for her and Carole W.C. to come for lunch on Thursday. Went out for supplies to Shop-Rite and Buy-Rite (wine), fooled around on the 'puter, and got a coupla few other things done. Continued my reading, which includes March To Folly: Troy to Vietnam, Drift, and Sum, the last a wonderfully imaginative account of life after death, plus the weekend NYTimes, practically a library in itself. Of course, I read the Press of Atlantic City everyday, but the Times may be a teensy bit superior. (All right, a lot superior; the Press is a rag, but it's my rag.)
It was a pretty slow day, all right, but I was content to gear down for a bit and didn't mind.
Rehearsal tonight, for which I'll pick up Aline and to which, as always, I'm looking forward.
WIDER: War inflicts such unimaginiable horrors, it may be as well we're mostly ignorant of them. Here's a horror in spades:
http://www.commondreams.org/further/2012/09/15-0
Of course, there's an ocean--or a cesspool--full of sentiments going down, such as "how noble and brave," "inspirational," and, most odious, "thank you for your sacrifice" (as if the guy purposely ripped off his limbs to make the world a better place). Nobody except those commenting on "Common Dreams" seem to go beyond the simple-minded jingoism to ask why, what for, was it worth it, and why should it continue. Nah, not important, let's just take an admiring glance at the new member of an exclusive club (he makes only the fifth current combatant who has lost all four limbs), then forget about it.
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