I realize that bridge is a noteworthy one because it's the state's only example of a deck truss bridge. But for God's sake, let's not get sidetracked by another diversion.
The bridge I refer to features a 250-foot double-leaf bascule structure over the Cape Fear River and empties into 3rd Street leading to downtown Wilmington, NC. So please no more questions.
As I was saying, Wind Horse charged straight into the road leading to downtown and I was reminded of a poem we memorized and recited back in Shady Grove Elementary School. You may remember the poem unless you came along after poetry was banned from public education.
The poem is called, The Charge of The Light Brigade, and begins with "Half a league, de dum, de dum, de dum, and then delivers the punchline...
"someone had blundered"
That summed up my feelings perfectly. Someone had blundered and it wasn't me. I had done everything humanly possible to sort out a life worth waking up for but the higher power, if any, had slept in, apparently.
If you're a regular visitor to the blog, you won't be surprised when I say that because of the emotional turmoil in my head, I soon found myself parked in front of Native Grounds, my favorite downtown caffeine den, and looking forward to meeting up with my favorite members of Team Genome, that being my god-niece, Lupe Lightfoot Mankiller, and her BFF, Claudia Solviegh Bensen.
Stage direction: Genome enters Native Grounds.
"Genome!" said the pair. "What's going on? What's the emergency?"
Sit down and tell us everything, said Lupe. "You look like someone who drank from the cup of life and found a worm at the bottom."
"What's the matter?" I said. "You want to know what's the matter? I'll tell you. I've had it! I'm tired of reading about all the other bipolar bozos who've become rich and famous and yet, where's mine? That's the question I ask the Universe."
"What's the matter?" I said. "You want to know what's the matter? I'll tell you. I've had it! I'm tired of reading about all the other bipolar bozos who've become rich and famous and yet, where's mine? That's the question I ask the Universe."
I paused long enough to order a double cappuccino with oat milk and a sprinkle of nutmeg. I know! Nutmeg! Don't get hung up over it; I sometimes like to stir things up a bit.
"I too suffer the slings and arrows of mental illness," I continued, "with none of the up-side. I've paid my dues, and all I get is treasons, stratagems, and spoiled."
"I understand exactly what you mean, dear old ancestor," said Lupe, "even though you've bungled another quote. I might suggest that you would feel better if you got a haircut. You look a little like a chrysanthemum."
"And I know you're only trying to help me feel better by lightening the mood," I said, "but I'm on a mission here. I've asked you to meet me so that I can express my revised evil plan for world domination. And, of course, I'm asking for help from my minions."
"Wait, wait, wait," cried Claudia. "You're getting far ahead of me. First, are you really Lupe's ancestor and do you actually have an evil plan?"
Lupe placed a hand on Claudia's arm and shook the coconut--she shook her own personal coconut, not Claudia's. I was not to be diverted by any off-stage action so I refused to give up the floor and I continued with my plea.
"We Genomes do not lightly forget," I said. "Well, we do forget some things like appointments, people's birthdays, and mailing letters, but we don't forget abject suffering.
I don't know if you're aware but yesterday I experienced what your grandparents' day was called a nervous breakdown. I lost all structural support and collapsed into a heap on the floor."
"We heard," said Lupe. "And we want you to know that we're here for you even when we don't appear to be."
"Yeah," said Claudia. "We'll be your structural support."
"I spend all day, every day," I said, "looking for the silver lining, a little light music, a bit of cheerfulness. And what do I find? Grief! That's what I find. Loads of unrequited grief. I've had enough!"
"I spend all day, every day," I said, "looking for the silver lining, a little light music, a bit of cheerfulness. And what do I find? Grief! That's what I find. Loads of unrequited grief. I've had enough!"
Lupe patted my right hand and Claudia patted my left. I expected them to pat my head next and I suppose if I had two instead of one, the pats would have happened.
"Whenever I get that depressed," said Lupe, "the feeling turns into anger and I go out into the street and start knocking peoples' hats off. That usually helps."
"Oh," said Claudia, "I think Genome would never do something like that. You wouldn't would you?"
"Oh," said Claudia, "I think Genome would never do something like that. You wouldn't would you?"
"I'm not always good and noble, Claudia," I said. "I am the hero of this story but I do have my off moments. Remember, the hypothalamus takes orders only from Princess Amy and the behavior that results is not always under my control."
"Is it really as bad as all that?" she said.
"Let me put it this way," I said. "It's never difficult to distinguish between the hypothalamus with a grievance and a ray of sunshine."
"C'est le vie!" said Lupe. "Just one long string of mistaken identities and rash acts and whatnot."
"But that's all done," I said. "From now on, it's going to be a different story. Today I finally open that gate and step out onto the yellow brick road."
"But that's all done," I said. "From now on, it's going to be a different story. Today I finally open that gate and step out onto the yellow brick road."
Claudia gave Lupe a quizzical look. Is that a word, quizzical? Lupe explained, "It's a mixed reference to the Wizard of Oz and to a session with a shaman in Sedona, Arizona."
"What will you do differently?" she asked me.
"What will you do differently?" she asked me.
"To start, I will inventory all those items in Mom's boxes and remove their power over me. They've become an anchor holding me back. Then I will review my success as a published travel writer and that will bolster my confidence and put me back on solid ground. From there, I will move forward one step and one day at a time."
"By Jove, I think you've got it!" said Lupe, and I recognized the gag from some musical or other but the exact source eludes me. Maybe one you're familiar with. Leave a comment below.
"And there's no better time like the present," she continued. "Shakespeare says, if you're going to do something, you might as well pop right at it and get it over with."
"And there's no better time like the present," she continued. "Shakespeare says, if you're going to do something, you might as well pop right at it and get it over with."
"Somehow, I feel that in the present circs, Shakespeare isn't the bimbo I care to follow. Someone like Napoleon perhaps."
"Forget Napoleon," said Lupe. "He's a bum. Listen to Jean Luc Piquard instead:
Make it so, Data! Engage!"
With her words of encouragement, I shot out of my chair as though I'd sat on a tack. I practically flew out the door and into the wide, blue, open.
And here I still am today, engaged like the dickens! Buckle up is my advice and make sure the safety bars are in place.
It's a wide, wild, windy world we're riding through, Billy Bob!