Life is still full of wonders, yes... and change is constant... the ebb and flow of fortune, clearly... one cannot always see the big picture...... one scene gives way to another... from disparate scenes - our identities push through... and many do well in life...yes - and spend decades building and providing...working, toiling away, raising their families and finish with proud legacies...... but the vast spectrum of humanity... one cannot help but wonder about... the sad forlorn cases... ordinary anonymous folks who outnumber the few lucky ones...what is the NUMBER exactly of those for whom IT all proves too much - for whom IT ends badly... I would like some actual #s - the demographics of suffering... because this is a stumbling block for.... that affirmation that one would like to have towards the universe... what are we to make of the sheer volume of all the sad cases... lives full of misery and regret... derailed careers, failed relationships, depression, despair... desperation...
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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