Monday, July 16, 2018

Waiting for the bus

We've hit an uncommonly tranquil period.  The sultry summer heat has caste an oppressive blanket upon activity generally.  Given that it is the middle of July it is not surprising there are fewer cars on the road. Every day resembles a weekend - at least judging by the lack of traffic. It makes one feel odd to be doing anything other than sitting by a lake or pool. Not having anything in particular to occupy me I have had to succumb to what I find to be the singularly Spartan state of unqualified patience (not historically my strongest feature).

I would however be less than anxious about the placid vernacular if I hadn't to endure the thumb-twiddling for others to perform those tasks which presently consume my focus. This disparity possibly arises from the seasonal absence of workers for holidays.  Nonetheless my internal clock impels me to languish while anticipating their return to productivity.  I still have my own transfixing agenda even if it is on hold temporarily.  It might be an improvement of my condition to have something to do other than recall what is yet undone.  But the "don't worry, be happy" theme is utterly lost on me. Shamefully I become so completely absorbed in my concentration that I effectively poison the atmosphere for anything less.  It's not something I'm proud of - not only because it is lacking in pragmatism and superior intellect but also because it insinuates my being to the point of immobility.  It is a tranquillizing consequence.

If that alone were not sufficient penalty, today has marked the accumulation of a succession of provocations.  It began early this morning when I learned that one of our new home computers was effectively locked (the login window was not cooperating).  And if you were to suggest it only required a simple telephone call to StarShip Command ("Apple Care") I hasten to remind the ingenues of society that no less than three of our successive calls were abruptly disconnected for no apparent reason.  We were accordingly transferred to three different "geniuses" and as many "senior advisors" before the annoying tail of this particular beast was wrestled to the ground. Though a disheartening process all told, the desired result was nonetheless thankfully achieved in the end (but clearly not without persistence and taxing application on our part).

It was mere moments later that the subsequent source of irritation arose. Upon meeting with the family dentist (pointedly after a prolonged delay of almost a year - for reasons which though palpable bear no repeating), he discovered that the ingredients of his ambition were improperly (even if only minutely) fabricated.  We expedited the much prophesied arrangement by personally delivering the inferior goods to the specialist in Kanata for rectification.  We were told by the specialist to reconvene 30 minutes later during which time we attempted to quell our anxiety by getting the car washed. That  purgation met with instant defeat.  Upon entering the gas station in Bells Corners we saw that a stranded automobile was caught in the exit ramp of the car wash. Apparently there is no triviality beneath fortune's offence!

Things appeared to be improving when we returned to the specialist to collect the dental products.  The technician produced them duly amended.  We called the dentist's office to advise of same and were happily told he would perform the installation later this afternoon.  Meanwhile we returned home to re-engage with what was then the on-going computer dilemma.

While assembled about the computer and processing the always agonizing routine of dealing with "techies", I received a mournful telephone call from a dear friend who advised that the recent professional evaluation of a real estate property was lower than hoped for.  I sought to diminish the blow by observing that every property is appraised for less than the owners initially envisage. This naturally did nothing to improve the digestibility of the intelligence. I could at least urge the abandonment of the sting by recalling that every property I have ever sold went for less than I had hoped or expected; and a good many of my former clients, friends and family have lately suffered the same nasty awakening.

After almost seven decades of performance I can attest that the arbitrary forces of human nature are not guaranteed to be altogether up-lifting. Indeed many of us now fall within the characterization of damaged goods as a result (the carcasses of medical and emotional conditions too numerous to reiterate). Yet I stubbornly hold out against the seduction of being trounced, this even though the overwhelming contamination of serendipity is completely wearing. At times there is almost nothing favourable on the horizon. The impurity is more oppressive than the lack of fecundity.

Just when I was developing a thoroughly skittish outlook, I sought to rise above the abnormalities of the day by going for an improving espresso at Equator Café. There - by complete chance - I encountered a young gentleman whom I had last seen at Calabogie Peaks in Renfrew County. He had translated his culinary talents at the resort to a niche market as a private dining chef catering specifically to Ottawa Valley residents.  If nothing else the reacquaintance was a powerful reminder that life goes on, that the youth of society are working hard to advance themselves and that the opportunity for engagement is as relentless as moss growing on the north side of a tree.

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