Carpe Diem

Darkest Hour

It’s six-thirty in the morning.  For my entire work career, pre-dawn mornings held no terrors for me.  I was usually up at five, and leaving for work before six.  But I’m “way-retired”, entering my eighth year as a “senior”.  So five am has slipped to seven.  It would be even later, but there are five dogs in the house.  One of them, usually the “senior dog” Buddy, won’t let me snooze any later.

But today I was scheduled to work, subbing at the local high school.  So the alarm went off at five-thirty.  The dogs knew it was going to be an early morning, the coffee pot clicked on a few minutes before my alarm.  Atticus, the big yellow lab, was already laying on top of me before Crosby and Nash’s guitar gently started playing from my phone.  No klaxon alarms necessary in this house.

False Start

I knew as soon as I opened the back door that I needed to check on school.  There was a slight coating of snow on the back deck, but when the dogs stepped out, it was obvious that under the snow was a layer of ice.  Some of the neighboring districts were already on delays or even closed, but here in the Southwest Licking Local Schools, we were still “on”.  So out the dogs went, did what they needed, and quickly returned.   The morning routine of Dahlman meds, dog meds, dog breakfasts and large volumes of strong black Starbucks French Roast coffee began.

It was twenty minutes later that the teacher I was subbing for texted.  He is in charge of the “Quiz Bowl” team, the academic contests between neighboring schools.  The team was in a tournament today, so I was covering his classes.  But with the ice and now a school delay, the tournament was cancelled, and he will be in his classroom.  He gently told me to go back to bed, no subbing today.

Back to those volumes of coffee.  I was on my third cup, and the dogs were patiently waiting for their dishes.  There was no quick path back to bed, and no sleep to be gained if I did.  So we moved ahead with our breakfast plans, and got four out of five dogs fed.  CeCe, the puppy, didn’t want to leave the fireplace.  She likes to sleep “hot”, and like Jenn, is the slow riser of our crew.  I’ll put her breakfast out, but there’s no certainty that she’ll eat anytime soon, though she’ll guard it for hours if I let her.  I get it:  it’s too early for short-haired puppies in the dark of a  cold January morning.

Promises

As a career teacher, snow days always had a promise.  Whatever you planned was “out”.  Unexpectedly, a whole day was opened for whatever you decided to do – back to bed, head down the road for breakfast, write an essay before the sunrise.  And while this snow day is costing me a paycheck, it still has that promise.  The day is yours; as Robin Williams would say “Carpe Diem!!” 

We need some “Carpe Diem” around here.  As always, both Jenn and I are plugged into what’s going on in the world, and what’s going on isn’t good.  On TV we watch the aftermath of the Tyre Nichols’ murder.  It’s as if there were cameras at the death of Emmitt Till.  It’s Rodney King, all over again, this time stretched out for almost an hour, with close-ups and wide establishing shots.  King was in 1991, almost thirty-two years ago. His plaintive cry, “…Can’t we all just get along”, echoes down the decades.  The answer is still a resounding “NO”, drowned out by Tyre’s anguished cry for his Mom, only a hundred yards away.

Groundhog Day

I watch the morning show on MSNBC, Morning Joe, as part of my routine.  So they are on in the background right now, a signal to the dogs, perhaps, that breakfast is over.  They’re smart:  they’ve all found a place to go back to sleep – even CeCe, though her nose is inches from her untouched breakfast.  I test Morning Joe every day – how long will it take for the name of the twice-impeached disgraced ex-President to come up?  It’s usually measured in seconds, as it was today.  Trump said any publicity is better than none, and Morning Joe was pivotal in bringing Trump to the fore in 2015.  Today it’s about Stormy Daniels, the porn star who got paid for silence about Trump.  He’s in the headlines again.

It’s like the movie “Groundhog Day”, though that’s tomorrow, not today.  For eight years the name Trump keeps coming back, in spite of impeachments and Insurrections and indictments.

Those who support Trump don’t really care why he’s on “page one”.  They believe that he is their maltreated leader, constantly attacked by the “MSM” (mainstream media).  So for them, good that his name is up front, ignore whatever else is said.  I just listened to Senator Lindsey Graham pledge his near-worshipful fealty to Trump, and now Chairman Jim Jordan denies that Trump ever did anything wrong, ever.  He’s running for President, if for no other reason than to gain immunity from indictment.  Trump hopes to run out the statute of limitations.  Which raises an interesting hypothetical:  if someone is elected President while they are standing trial for crimes – what happens? 

I don’t really think we’ll get there – but I do think we are headed for another ugly election cycle.  I remember thinking after 2020, after the Insurrection, after Biden’s inauguration, we finally would move on from Trump and Trumpism.  But that clearly is not to be.

It’s Dawn

The sun isn’t coming up this morning – not really.  But it is growing lighter out there, the frozen road emerging in the cloud-covered dawn.  It’s probably time to go clear the truck and Jeep off. Jenn’s got a lost dog (not ours) almost ready to go into the trap. 

 If it does, that will become the focus of the day, getting him safe and back to his owners.  He’s been on the run for three weeks, and completely disappeared for the last seven days.  He re-emerged last night, just as everyone was ready to give up.  There won’t be time to scrape ice and clear windows later, if (when) he finally succumbs to the “sweet smell” of Vienna sausages luring him to the trip plate.  With the gray light of this dawn, it’s time to “seize the day”.  

Well, maybe after one more cup of coffee.