Truly Asinine Music

A Nihilist’s death.  A pointless death that’s fit for a poet, secured in the name of science.  Bazarov managed to survive the duel and even a broken heart.  But Typhoid has slowly, steadily laid him low.  My younger one and I finished “Fathers and Sons” this evening.  Bazarov had cut himself treating a Typhus patient.  Cool and rationale as ever he accurately predicted that he’d likely contracted the disease and would soon suffer the consequences. 

Diseases were all the rage for us this time last year.  I looked back over the Wiki page for Typhoid just now and recalled that I was familiar with all the photos of contaminated wells, spotted chests and the infamous Typhoid Mary Mallon herself, lying there, black and white in a hospital bed. We’d been preparing for a trip to East Africa and were considering all the shots we needed. We’re considering Siberia this year so we’ll likely only need mosquito repellent.

Was down in Kerry Center today to see an old friend.  He’d reached out on LinkedIn and we swiftly agreed to a lunch down near his residence there.  I remember helping him with his applications to college in the U.S. twenty years ago and the friend who introduced us at that time whom we’ve long since lost touch with. 

He suggested Element Fresh, which I always enjoy.  I had it in my mind to disregard my vegetarian regimen from the last few months and have their Greek Salad with big cubes of feta and large hunks of lamb, grilled just so.  “We don’t have it any more” she told me.  This was like someone suggesting Kosar’s no longer carried bialys.  Well, this veggie salad will do then.  That’s fine. 

We began to reconnect on the last two decades when suddenly, truly asinine music of no distinction began blaring throughout the environment.  We were in a corner with a speaker right over our head.  No, no, no.  I jumped up, automatically, entitled, and strode up to the first employee I could find and insisted they turn it down. I told three other people and reiterated the message.  Finally, I grabbed our waiter once again and said, “Turn it down or we’re leaving!”  They turned it down.  My friend was probably recalling this side of my personality that he’d otherwise perhaps forgotten.  

Tuesday, 4/24/18