The Table of Canadians

Pounding out emails feverishly.   Someone has plans.  I did not know about these plans.  I must write them and explain something.  It must be expressed.  Seven other things, did not get done.  This however must be clarified.  “But dad we’re late for dinner.”  It’s well past when we should have left.  Reluctantly I closed the computer and talked myself into letting go of virtual communication. 

It was good to have some real communication.  A dinner with other adults.  Kids playing with other kids.  Everyone talking, laughing.  Nothing, whatsoever to do with work.  I was the odd man out at the table of Canadians.  What did people think of Trudeau?  Is it true that pot will be legalized across your country?  Is it true that Keystone is dead?  Is it true that Vancouver is more expensive that any city in the U.S.?  Yes, I went to Quebec in the winter and I loved it. 

The third time my younger one came up to my ear and whispered “tick tock, tick tock,” I knew some action must be taken.  Suddenly everyone is ready to go.  Good to be back in the cold air, walking off so much cake, so many aperitifs. 

It has been days now that I have pinch in my neck.  The left side right where the shoulder meets the neck is sore. It could be worse.  I’ve certainly had things that were more debilitating.  And then they leave.  But it lingers.  I keep pulling my head in the opposite direction in hopes that I will some how spring the tension free.  Just a bit further and this resistance will break.  And though I manage some popping noises, I always release the stretch, unfulfilled.  Pain reliever, perhaps?

I’m awake.  Everyone else is awake too.  It’s Friday night.  Everyone is quietly confronting his or her own console.  It is coming up on 1:00AM.  Certainly I would normally be asleep by now.  I am midway through Christopher Hitchens, “Letter to a Young Contrarian.”  It’s a short book.  I think I will take my pain in the neck and go lie down upstairs and flip the pages till oblivion has its way.