Don’t ask me

Welcome to this week’s Reno News & Review.

Ha, ha. Told you so. No snow on Peavine on April 27, but there sure was today, May 4. Don’t you feel bad for your poor little tomato plants, their little green faces withered and drawn like your childhood hopes and dreams?

You’ll find this irrelevant, I’m sure, but I’ve got this thing on my mind that I need to express onto the page. “Express” as in “discharge,” not as in “communicate.”

I’ve taken up the habit of meditation. I’ve written about it a little bit over the past nine months. I do it in the morning, sitting on the edge of the bed, usually 15 minutes, but sometimes longer. It makes me feel kind of empty-headed, a feeling that persists to some degree throughout the day. I kind of like it.

It certainly allows me not to pound my fist when some moron stops in front of me at a yellow light when I’m late for therapy. No, really; I kid because I love.

I’m reminded of some Cracker lyrics: I don’t know what the world may need, / But I’m sure as hell that it starts with me. /And that’s a wisdom,/I’ve laughed at.

The number and variety of ways there are to stumble into the future will never cease to astound me. I realize it rains on the just and the unjust, but doesn’t it seem weird that the stupid and cowardly lurch onward with the exact same results as an Albert Einstein?

You ’n’ me ’n’ Socrates, we spend a lot of our time just trying to figure out what’s really going on in the world around us. And none of us ever owed a cock to Asclepius. Not that I’m looking to fill out any credit apps.

To finish the thought: I don’t know what the world may want,/ But a good stiff drink it surely don’t./ So I think I’ll go and fix myself a tall one.

But back to the garden: We’re getting awfully close to that May 15 last-average-freeze date. I wonder if I couldn’t get away with planting some pole beans this weekend?