If the bug would settle for exhausting bouts of racking coughs, we might work out some kind of agreement. No, it has to add a feeling best described as bone liquefaction. Sitting up straight is a chore. Walking down the road (whether minding my own business or not): the Hero’s Journey.
I exaggerate of course. (Can I go back to bed now?)
Yesterday, someone remembered a post I’d done on the topic of predators. Flu bugs don’t get the respect they deserve in this regard. How can a flu-ridden one compete with suicidal bombers or the death of rock icons? So here I sit, in a woozy state with the prospect of five hours of coaching young children, starting at eleven.
(In a break of the recording session last night, we did a few bars from We Are the World. Not a collector’s keeper, but we laughed. Laughing is good, even with the flu bug hopping up and down in the lungs.)
This post won’t be a keeper either. Move the fingers, keep the brain ticking along. Four young men came visiting yesterday afternoon. Smiling and no longer afraid of the dog. In fact, one of them has the uncanny power to attract animals. The minute he appears, they behave like hypnotized creatures. Settle against him and forget all their cares and woes, whatever those may be.
Would the likes of jittery world leaders react the same way to his presence? Hm. Picture the scene. The young man does nothing special. Sits there. A hush falls over the National Assembly. The Prime Minister stumbles on his latest tirade against all those who disagree with him. Falls silent. Starts humming (off-key, I’m afraid). But soon enough, everyone recognizes the tune and joins in, softly. “Once there was a way to get back homeward,” they sing. “Once there was a way to get back home, sleepily darling do not cry, and I will sing a lullaby…”
They look at one another. Leave the Assembly in a daze. Out on the street, one of them approaches a regular everyday person. Looks deep into his eyes, and sings the old Burt Baccharach ditty: “What the world needs now is love sweet love, it’s the only thing that there’s just too little of.”
If I’m going to make it through the coaching sessions, maybe I should go back to bed for a bit.