It’s been a good fall week in Denton Texas with plenty to do. And not all of it has been work. Same as most stray dogs, my mind, not having a particular place to call home, tends to wander. You might call it nomadic or rootless, even homeless, and basically stays busy doing a lot of rushing around and about, all over the world actually, with the last few days being no exception. I started out the week contemplating why Columbus Day is celebrated at all, since most everyone I know could care less, didn’t celebrate anything, except perhaps having a day off, and apart from myself, not a penny’s worth of thinking was spent on a famous explorer whose name we are not sure of, whose birthplace is still up for grabs, and whose ship’s names we learned in grade school, only to find out later they were only nicknames. Then there are those that protest Columbus Day and would rather celebrate their race, or ethnicity instead, (“el día de la raza in Latin America) especially if they have native blood from somewhere . . . even if it’s less than 1%, which is fine by me. From that essential effort, and being as we were on water, sort of, I went to thinking that if there is a “New” Zealand, there must be an “old” Zealand somewhere, one I’ve never heard of, and where the hell is that? How these questions pop into my mind or where they come from, it’s a mystery to me and I have no clue. But they do. Important unresolved issues that I’m working on are, in no particular order of significance: 1, Australia is surrounded by water, but is it an island? 2, why did women start wearing pants? 3, who said they could? and 4, Do plants feel pain?
And there is never any hurry to get an answer because as soon as one is put to bed, another one wakes up. And so it goes.
¡Viva la Niña, La Pinta y la Santa María, Viva! – even if they are only nicknames.
Like I said, not’ting much,
m