Throughout her career, k.d.
lang has pushed envelopes. She’s tackled musical genres from country to punk to
old standards and brings unique perspectives to everything. Her vocals are on
soundtracks to films ranging from Even Cowgirls Get the Blues to Tomorrow
Never Dies.
Hey, looky here: I’ve got an Aesop fable from the last couple of
days’ walks.
This guy was actually booking it. He was close to the sidewalk
when I first encountered him; by the time I made my return pass in about 15
minutes, he was out of sight.
This guy, now…Just as I cut the second video he hopped over to
look like a shrub, so of course he became invisible. (Although he, or someone very like him, appeared in my back yard a couple of hours later.)
Anyway, the People’s Republic’s very own fable. #AmIRight?
You know—we have not had any vanity plates for a while. So let’s
do it.
These two were parked next to each other in the cluster; I’m
thinking their owners are related, but that could be me imagining it.
Likewise, these were next to each other in front of a house. It’s
the connection to Reston Runners that makes me think they’re related.
Not really sure what SHESHLY works out to be. She's holy? Shesh, LY? Dunno.
And this pair—well, the guy in the Aw Yeah van took exception to
me shooting a pic; got very bolshie, like he was going to fight me in the
parking lot.
Dude—your plate is, like, public, you know? Also, the whole point
of a vanity plate is to attract attention.
Today’s one of those micro-gratitudes: the self-service olive bar
at Wegman’s is once again self-service:
It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed taking with the staff over the
past 15 months as I get my bi-weekly fix of pitted Kalamatas. It’s that the
pandemic must well and truly be lessening in my part of the world if Wegman’s
feels free to hand over the slotted spoons (albeit with latex gloves) and
plastic containers.
In the wake of the murder of
George Floyd last year, the company for which I work gave US employees
Juneteenth off. Starting this year, it’s an annual holiday, and we’re off today.
I’m glad, because—like Memorial Day, Labor Day, MLK Day and Veterans Day—it’s an
opportunity for us to reflect on our history, to honor the sacrifices made by
generations of Americans to make our lives better and to consider how we can
further that continuum.
If you’re unclear about
Juneteenth, it commemorates the day in 1865 when news arrived in Galveston with
Union troops that the end of the War Between the States meant emancipation for
slaves across the country. The Emancipation Proclamation, which the victory at Antietam
in September of 1862 made possible, outlawed slavery in all territories then in
rebellion against the United States. However, as you might imagine, the
Confederates basically said, “Yeah, and?” and got on with their slaving
business for another two years. Two months after the surrender of the Army of
Northern Virginia at Appomattox, the “and” question was answered in
Texas.
We all know that we have yet
to fulfill the promise of emancipation; for that matter, we have yet to fulfill
the ideals of a more perfect union, equal justice, domestic tranquility,
general welfare and the blessings of liberty. But Juneteenth reminds us that,
even when we can’t see the full arc of the moral universe, we feel it in our
consciences and we are obligated to do our part to ensure that it bends toward
justice.
For these reasons, today we’re
having Aretha Franklin singing “Never Gonna Break My Faith.” This version was compiled and released for Juneteenth last year. Crank up the
volume and really look at the videos.
Yesterday afternoon I opened the account I list whenever I have to
provide an email address for a vendor—financial institutions, subscriptions, retailers,
etc. And found three emails from CapitalOne, about this and that. I
could have sworn that I unsubscribed from all this crap last week, but here
they are again, spamming the living daylights out of me.
I unsubscribed again. If I have to do it again, I’m
calling them and threatening to switch to a Chase card. It’s a lousy way to
treat customers and they need to cut it out.
This is precisely why I never give any of these mokes my mobile
number.
We had quite the gullywasher
on Monday night, so on my walk yesterday morning I noticed a lot of puddles.
And the reflections in the water fascinated me. Viz:
Well, thanks to my readers, I found out that last week’s mystery plant is a wild azalea,
probably rhododendron canescens or rhododendron periclymenoides. So I know what
I want to add to my garden.
Let’s try again. These guys actually live in my garden already,
and they’re almost ground cover.
They popped up while Nature was still deciding
on how many winters we were going to go through, so they're hardy.
They start out strong with blooms, then lapse into green.
Now they’ve all disappeared, so not reliable cover.
Watching the G7 meeting in Cornwall, I am so grateful that the
United States is once again represented by a grown-ass man who is not looking
for attention and for how he can profit from the conference. We went through
the entire summit without a tantrum or stunt (except for teddy-tossing BoJo, who
is a poor representative of the public school system in Britain), and I have to
say that it was a massive relief.
(We have yet to see how the wealthiest nations in the world will follow up, but that's a different discussion.)
It seems odd that you have to say that out loud, but it’s 2021 and
this is where we are.