Astonishment II

The atmosphere in the pub was warm and pleasant. A group were playing traditional music, and few old couples were dancing on the floor.

-It was exactly what we needed, after this long rainy day-. Said Kevin, relaxed with his cold beer in a hand.

-Totally agree. Visiting the Dingle bay in February was maybe not the best choice- Admitted Sharon with a sigh. All the day long she had to bear his complains about the wind and the rain, unable as he was to appreciate the beauty of a landscape, without a Californian sun shining above them.

It was they first trip in Europe, and she carefully planned to visit all the places she heard about from her friends. Her best friend spent one year as Au pair in Ireland before the College, minding the children of a local couple, whilst she was force to give up their planned journey to mind her own, unexpected child. At that time, she did not regret the choice, but after ten years she begged her husband to fulfil her teen dream.

Kevin was not so thrilled about the idea of leaving his beloved Sacramento to spend three weeks in the old and boring Europe. But he acknowledged with himself that he owed that to his wife. However, in the deal they had, nowhere was said he could not complain, and this was exactly what he did. Tired of seeing ships and cows in a misty rain, he was not in the perfect mood for a second honeymoon.

Anyway, in that pub for the first time he felt relaxed and in the right place. The music in the background reminded him of American country music, of which he was a huge fan, and the warm stew he was having dried the cold entered in his bones as they were viewing bay after bay

He was such in a good mood, that he even asked Sharon for a dance.

She was not totally sure about it, as it was years she didn't dance, but noticing in the mood of her usually grumpy husband, she would not lost the chance. They reach the dance floor among the applause of the audience, and the old couple near them offered to teach them the steps. Such a friendly people, the Irish, Sharon tough in delight. A night like that, was one she will never forget.

Around eleven, the tiredness starts to win over their enthusiasm, and they decided to reach their bed and breakfast, few miles away. Stepping out of the door, for a moment the mist was so dense they could not locate their car, parked right in front of the main entrance. The rain did not stop, and Kevin said: Let's go back inside for a while, until the rain calms down.

In the total silence of the night, they turned their back to the door of the pub, and all they saw was an old, ruined cottage, with a signboard waving in the wind.

They looked in each other eyes, astonished and petrified.

#Quote

 I think quotes are a great thing. Little pills of wisdom adaptable for every occasion.
Anyway, as it always happens, this pill needs to be take with moderation, and wisely.
This creates a problem, in this Internet Era. In the past, to be able to quote someone, you would need to read his works. Now everyone can look for any quote, without any contest.
The missing contest not only damage the meaning of the aphorism, but is also a risk for the authenticity.
Quoting someone, now nobody puts the source (like in which book, newspaper, or speech the famous person said that sentence). So, everyone can invent the quote he prefers and make Einstein saying that.
We passed from the "ipse dixit" as mark from authenticity to the "everyone says so".

End even if the "ipse dixit" was somehow damaging the intellectual growth of a generation, the "everyone says so" kills the intellectual growth, as it brings with it an indifference for the truth and the accuracy, for the culture and the literature, that can be very worrying for the future of mankind.

But maybe it is just me dreaming about the good old times?

And, just to be in line what I just said, here there is a quotation from a writer that I love, and I have no idea if she ever wrote this and where :)

"Never do anything for yourself that others can do for you"

Agatha Christie 

Little things

This morning it was raining a bit. 

Walking to the bus stop, I decided to listen some music, Bach's Brandenburg concertos. Suddenly, the world around me started a choreography designed by the universe: the seagulls dancing above the river, the postwoman stopping to give mails, the middle aged man accompanying his wife to work with their dog, the tireless jogger who doesn't care about the weather.

It brightens my day.

Everything is better with the music. It takes so little to be happy.

"Mais les braves gens n'aiment pas que l'on suive une autre route qu'eux"

(But the good folks don't like it if you take a different road than they do.)

I love this song of Brassens, La mauvaise reputation. It expresses with poetical lyrics and beautiful music what I was trying to say about the major problem of democracy:

People do not accept and do not like who thinks differently (unless it has an apple... :) )

The more they (who are they? Let's say, persons in general) want to prove they are right, the more they blame who does not share their idea. 

And the saddest thing is that they are persuaded to be democratic, and to fight for everyone to have the right to expresses himself. 

"Non les brav's gens n'aiment pas queL'on suive une autre route qu'eux, Tout l'mond' viendra me voir pendu, Sauf les aveugles, bien entendu".

The ugly truth is that everyone is free to say what he thinks and to think what he wants, with the only condition that has to be the same thing everyone else does think and say.

Astonishment

And this was about 25 years ago-. Once said this sentence, something clicked on Daisy's head. While she continued to describe to his journalist friend how was like having Sundays' breakfast back in her village in her childhood, her mind started another conversation with herself. 25 years ago? How is it possible to remember things happened a quarter of century before? For the first time after her birthday, she realised she was getting old. There is a moment in every woman life when the so called biological clock starts to sounds louder and louder. Turning thirty and being alone put in place a peculiar mechanism, something that can be called survival instinct. She starts to give up the wait for the infamous Mr. Right, or Prince Charming, and she starts to look for a father. A father of her yet unborn children.

While this conversation was carrying on in her head, they kept on strolling along the river. Dublin was shining brightly after the morning shower, and the trees' leaves dropped once in a while a bit of water, just to remember that sunny days are not the usual condition for a dubliner afternoon.

Even if she thought she was speaking normally, John realised that something glitched in her mind. As a investigative reporter, as he pleased to think of himself, he believed to be able to notice any change in his interlocutor expressions that can lead to a discovery.

Anyway, this time he preferred not to ask was going on in her friend's mind, and settle instead to propose to stop for a coffee beside the Liffey. They choose a little kiosk with a nice view of the Ha' Penny bridge. People were nicely converging on river side, families strolling together, children running, taking advantage of the shining day.

-What would you take?

-A latte, as usual, John, thank you.

John left for ordering the beverage, and Daisy amused herself in observing the humanity gathered there. A lovely blond child caught her attention. He was climbing the fence of the river, crying to get his mother's attention. The woman was sitting on the bench, chatting with her friend about an interesting broken marriage of another friend of them. She did not pay too much attention to the evolution of the young climber.

Daisy was more interested than her, lead by her new discovery of a maternity desire. The little boy gained the top of the fence, and in an adventurous mood tried to catch a butterfly flying a few inches of his face. The distance was bigger than he tough, and suddenly he fell in the river with a capriole. Finally he get the mother's attention, she screamed fearfully. John, coming back with the coffees, throw them away without hesitation and jump in the river to rescue the boy. He took him between the waves after a short struggle, and applause were coming from the viewers above. He never seemed more attractive in Daisy's eyes.

-What happened to you? It's the second time I'm calling you. Daisy woke up from her daydream and looked in John's eyes. Everything was calm, beside the river.

-Sorry, I was lost in a reverie. What were you saying?
-I just receive a call, I have to go
-What happened?
-A boy fell down in the river few bridges from here. They are trying to rescue him. If I make it on time to eyewitness the rescue, maybe this time my editor will give me the headline story at the newspaper.
He said in a hurry, and left. Daisy stare at his back as he was running away, astonished.

Differences.

The culture of the majority is not impartial, it only claims to be impartial. In the reality, it imposes its own form of life to minorities, if they want to access to the political debate, at the price of their own identity. And when an idea starts to be shared by a majority, immediately takes this habit, and suddenly thinking differently means to be outsiders, not enough intelligent, or not enough literate.  It is happening what John Stuart Mill predicted in “On Liberty”. The liberal democratic political view, wanting to consider everyone the same regardless of the differences, it activates a blindness to the same public that, instead of recognizing the presence of difference, claims to do not pay attention to it. This behavior produces an abstract equality,that actually disregards the rights of individuals.

In other words, it is the human being that is not able to really have different opinion without blaming the other, or it is only a defect of the democracy?

New starts are not always a change.

Here I am, spending my afternoon reflecting on the real meaning of change.
How often change position, role, country, is not really a change? Speaking by experience, I would say most of the times. People seek changes because they are bored, tired, labelled in their lives, but this is not really what they need to modify to make a turn in their days.
It is always a question of attitude. It does not matter how far you will travel, because you will carry within yourself the core of the problem: the way you face life.