Blues suffuses from the speakers, and the room is alive with male and female melodic voices. This blends with a spirited tide of conversation coming from the tables, especially the big round table in the corner by the window. Starbucks, Tuesday morning. Today, the side streets are icy and hazardous. Someone mentioned that the local sheriff has advised everyone to stay home today. Freezing rain does not mix with traffic. But, I am already here, satisfied to stay for a while longer.

The room is a metaphor, causing me to think of the Athenian Agora, the market square where Socrates lived and conversed day to day. The old stone-cutter was curious about many things.  His lively conversation attracted a circle of younger, adventurous males to probe topics out of the whirl of life that captured his mind. For example, the meaning of justice…  What do we mean to mean by a just society?

This morning’s conversations have shuttled between news of the movie now in production about Formula 1 racing. The film stars Brad Pitt. And about a Formula 1 documentary that I learned about. F1 racing is like high wire walking without a net.

A darker topic came up. In conversation was mentioned an oft invisible dimension of American democracy. I mean the impact of appointed conservative election officials, unskilled, fundamentally ignorant about how to run an election, – upon a company which crafts and sells computer programming for conducting elections. Software at this level is an art.  It is assumed, end-users are well experienced at running elections. The individual telling this story had an expression of dismay on his face.  I believe that he owns the company in question.

The coffee is hot, astringent, bitter-sweet. Winter outside from my angle of view is random and messy, wet, slick, ice coated, chaos’ cusp for my return home.

I judge that life is good, – admixture of chaos with the play of order. And so it has always been.

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