What happens when the promised elixir (*) that has been touted for centuries as guaranteed to promote health, heal the wounds, cure disease, alleviate pain and prevent the noxious viruses from returning does not deliver on the hoped-for happy outcome? What is left for us to conclude when we observe the sick and infirm, the injured, the newly infected, bedridden souls, walking wounded, still vulnerable to the onslaught of malignant microbes? Has the original situation fundamentally changed? Do we delude ourselves by claiming progress? Are we to say, behold the amazing power of the elixir that only here and there, haphazardly and unpredictably works its magic? Because many have closed themselves off from the healing effects and thereby prove unworthy of a cure? Is that it? On the basis of such glaring evidence, could one not reasonably begin to question the purpose of the elixir itself? And if the elixir has not been working out as advertised, have we in fact misunderstood it?
We had made our way down busy Palm Avenue towards the crosswalk. after zigzagging the usual route from busy Bandini Avenue to Tower Road to Rosewood Place. Bret was our wild-man companion - a fifth-grader with a take-no-prisoners approach to life. The local crosswalk, that most mundane of enterprises was soon to become the scene of spontaneous absurdist theater when suddenly out of nowhere came the random yelp: Hey...Hey...What do you want with us lady? - What do I want with you? said the most predictably normal gray-haired woman by whose ever so brief guidance we measured our daily jaunt to school. Yeah - where are you taking us? - There's only one way kid - It's this way... - You're not really a crossing guard are you? came the cheeky interrogative. The slightly bemused, limping, beleaguered woman was dwarfed by her bright yellow uniform as she held up her STOP sign - showing Brett. The other smaller kids walked by us single file in the middle of th...
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