After A Little Rain
Another early morning at Starbucks, Mundelein. By habit I begin my day here to read and to write. The atmosphere is congenial for focus upon the state of my mind and of the world. Contemporary music in the background, plaintive, a male voice celebrating/mourning the state of our lives as mortal. A friendly barista behind the counter knows my name, and does not have to ask if I want a medium sized dark roast cup. The clientele here represents the mean of American society early 21st Century. Upper middle class females are attractively attired in preparation for a day at the office. Or perhaps the outfit is the current fashion of casual exercise apparel. They’ve have just concluded a workout session at the Anytime Fitness just across the parking lot. The males range from contractors that leave the truck running to dash in to pick up a coffee, or guys living off of investment income. They linger with time on their hands.
This place seems a long way from the west or south side of Chicago. There sixty six people were victims of gunfire over the past weekend. And it seems a long way from the border between Texas and Mexico, where ICE is vigilant to capture the hapless, and desperate from God-forsaken Central America. Neither does the room have the look and feel of a Barrington coffee shop.
This morning I began reading the New York Times magazine of this past Sunday which contains just one article. Losing Earth: Thirty years ago, we could have saved the planet by Nathaniel Rich, Photography by George Steinmetz. When I have finished the reading I plan to keep the issue in a safe place. My intention is that my grandchildren will read the story of the failure of my generation to save the planet from catastrophe.
