Saturday, July 21, 2012

tee shirt

For the first time in a while it is pleasant to sit out on my deck. Earlier this week it was so hot and humid, that when I slid the slider over at 9 pm to see if it would be comfortable outside, I felt as if I was being hit with a wall of outside heat.

Today, however, it is gorgeous. About 80, no humidity. In a couple of hours the deck will be covered with sun, but right now I still have some shade. I am fortunate--as I have written before in this blog, to live adjacent to a wooded area. In front of me as I sit is nothing but what looks like a lush forest. To my right is a park and I can hear the bats hitting the balls and the chatter that comes with the games. To my left is a quiet neighbor.

All is well, but that is if I am looking through this narrow lens.

In Colorado a maniac decided to spray a movie theater with bullets. The killer has destroyed life and the lives of the loved ones who knew the victims. And who knows how emotionally shattered the survivors of the shooting are and will be.

If you are willing to accept the argument that we are all connected somehow, then who knows what damage this crazed person has done to all of our foundations.

This morning I had to do some errands. I brought the vacuum cleaner in because it is essentially new and was not working. A kind technician showed me that what was not working was me as he explained as diplomatically as one can, that I did not see something that any fool should have been able to notice. So, the vacuum cleaner got "fixed". I went to the post office to mail in a bill, and then returned some bottles to what are called here in Massachusetts, package stores. Finally, I had to go to the supermarket to pick up an item or two.

As I checked out and was running my card through the gizmo, I hear the person behind me ask, cheerfully, for a bag of ice in addition to his groceries. The attendant goes to get the ice and I turn around to see the customer. He is a normal looking fellow with a friendly smile. I am about to turn back around to get my packages when I notice his tee shirt. It is a normal beige looking Saturday morning tee. It has three letters on it. GFY.

In a time of acronyms that are used in texting I am about ten years behind the curve. This one, however, I think I get.

What would possess a person to wake up and finger through his duds and decide to select that shirt to present that message to the world.

The crazy in Denver is a crazy, deranged to somehow think that the horrific act makes sense. The fellow with the shirt probably just thought it was a hoot to wear that top. Probably is benign, but we are all likely better off if we pass along the love instead.

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