This morning, I have my annual physical. It’ll be the first time I’ll see my primary face-to-face in twelve months, although she’s been involved in my care several times in between. I expect she’ll interpret some blood tests, which I had done after fasting yesterday, and tell me whether, after having Covid last month and a cough that lasted for a few weeks longer–but has now reverted to my usual asthmatic 60% inhalations—I’m good to have flu and pneumonia vaccinations. I don’t expect to receive any shocking revelations about my medical condition, and even hope to hear the magic words, “You’re in good shape–for 82.”
Today is a national day-of-reckoning, one that occurs every four years, for the health of Democracy in America. Will we learn that “Although democracy is showing serious signs of aging, you’ll be allowed to keep school lunches, social security, and services for the youngest, the oldest and those left wounded at the side of the road”. Or will we be told that a new administration will begin the necessary work of dismantling services for everyone who can’t pay for them; and that it’s time to carry out the nationally approved mandate to wreak vengeance on domestic enemies.
If not today then sooner than I will want, my individual life—a small sloop nearing the shore, but still under sail on the edge of an open sea—will discover that an unseen, or perhaps perfectly visible, reef has begun snapping planks in a hull that keeps me afloat.
But today, or at least this morning, before the light of another day arrives in this part of the world, I give thanks for being here, with the eyes and will to greet another dawn.
Let us hope it’s a good new day for both you and the USA, Michael.
– Paul