Jack sat on a bench, hand-rolled tobacco between his lips, eyes on nothing in particular.
The real world was waiting for him – straight, asphalt rivers filled with metal fish. A return to life with people who hadn’t spent each morning the previous week staring out onto the calm Alaskan ocean. People who weren’t reminded what life is like away from blocked rivers, stocked trout and farmed salmon. He gets it. He’s a hunter and fisherman who loves the outdoors and has spent plenty of time in it. But he also knows how chaotic the times within the containment of routine can be.
Jack said he’s trying to shrink his world, but it’s not easy. There’s so much speed when there’s so much around and that isn’t really a good thing. So much of what’s out in the world can’t be grabbed. There’s too much. Too much inconsequential nonsense. Too much traffic. Too much distance between where you are and where you want to be both literally and figuratively. Too much news.
If I go a week without turning on the TV as I did when my friends Dimos, Troy and Patrick were in town, I’ll realize all the pressing issues that made breaking news culminated in…well…not much.
We should care about what’s happening and we should be informed, but if we don’t find time for a seven steak, seven crab, kielbasa, taters and creamed corn dinner with friends what’s the point? Okay, I know five potential scandals about five potential candidates for president, each of whom will ultimately fail to save everyone and everything. Now what?
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