|Harold, my cat has been sleeping a lot lately; worrying me a bit...|
I got a bag of cashew nuts, and a green drink, and a 39 cent caramel there, before getting on the trolley.
Sunday, I spent a good portion of; reading American History.
I'm up to 1944 and the going has been slow, given the number of pages devoted to this and the preceding years.
I am forced to think, when I read about battles where thousands were killed that those were unique individuals, each one capable of thinking and feeling a wide gamut of emotions, with the ability to reason, to philosophize; to communicate; having fears that we all share, such as fear of death; and having hopes and dreams and perhaps even a connection to a higher power; maybe a genius or having a great sense of humor. Their deaths were tallied after each battle. If a company of 200 win a battle and only lose one man, the historian might even use the phrase: "negligible losses." But, what if you're that one guy, who loses the whole thing, as far as he's concerned.
And, sometimes a general will screw up and send hundreds of his fellow man into a meat grinder, only to give the order to pull back after he sees his folly. Sorry about your buddies, I...well, I had the damned map upside down; war is hell!
How can a guy who has any sensitivity at all, crouch behind a log, clutching a deadly weapon, ready to charge into a hail of bullets, knowing that it is over a hill that the officers feel would make a great place for an observation post; and then seeing battles that are fought to a stalemate with each side suffering heavy casualties and then waking up the next morning with the battle lines still right where they were; and then getting ready for another "assault."
And it would probably have been an act of treason to stand up and yell: "What, are you crazy? They'll mow us down! Let's think of something better!" to the General.
And there are some people these days who will blow themselves up in order to take other people with them; are these people way more spiritual than I am??
But, I digress. I'm just a street musician in New Orleans seeing if he can stay sober enough to make a career for himself...
153 Days Sober
I had a strong urge to drink for just about 10 seconds earlier this morning. It was right after I had walked past a couple skeezers and had heard one of them mumble; and I imagined that he had said something about the fact that I never give a skeezer "nothin'."
I spent another good portion of Sunday drawing pictures. I will have to remember to bring them here to the computer room with me so I can photograph them and post them here.