In The Cage
A gray and rain-soaked Sunday morning, I take sip after sip of hot coffee to dispel my feeling of funk. Until late in Saturday evening my attention was focused upon family related responsibility, the privilege of celebrating the graduation of a grandson from high school. This is the milestone-dividing line between childhood and adulthood. Learning as an adult begins after high school. The journey begins.
A celebratory event with food, company with kin, good friends, and neighbors was held in the backyard of my son and his wife. I could not have added anything more to the conversations, the lives shared via the medium of a well roasted pig, complementary dishes, home baked cookies and miniature pies. Children of all ages played together. I’d like to believe that this afternoon is embedded in their memory as symbol and reality of life well-lived. This is how good things can be.
No doubt I had blocked the contrary from consciousness. I mean the UFC event held today on the lawn of the White House. This evening is to feature “gladiatorial” combat between fighters attempting to destroy one another with their hands. This is an up close and personal blood-fest in a cage hosted by the President of the United States. There is no need to go into further detail since the event has been mentioned by many of the major news outlets. This is what The Guardian reported on the event.
I shudder to think about what this means for the rest of us who are subject to this administration.
Here is a durable truth, one that is untouched by avarice, by naked cruelty on display in Washington. A song by Lord Huron, The Ends of the Earth.
