Tallulah Gorge in Autumn
What The Age of Covid Feels Like
In the Time of the Great Plague of 2020 we have all begun feeling like
tightrope walkers in a dream, say, Wallenda, making his slow perilous way, step
by tiny step, over Tallulah Gorge, leaning slightly left, then slightly right,
stopping to readjust the tilt of the pole we carry, stepping out once more, one
step, two step, right step, left step—when suddenly, halfway across, high up
over the churning whitewater far, far below, we realize we’re naked, we’ve left
our pants at home, and all the spectators are laughing and pointing at our
grotesque danglers—the testicles that just do not hang down in a proper
way—and, worst of all, we’ve forgotten, utterly and irrevocably forgotten, how
to put one foot in front of the other.
Reminds me of my days in U.S. Army basic training, Ft. Jackson, South
Carolina, spring of 1963. Large numbers of my fellow recruits could never learn
to march, unable as they were to distinguish right foot from left.
Concentrate on Your Feet and All Will Be Well
Pascal
says what people need is “a violent and vigorous occupation to take their minds
off themselves.” This is especially good advice in the year 2020. “When
dancing,” opines Pascal, “you must think where to put your feet.”
Blaise
Pascal, Penseés
[excerpt from the book by U.R. Bowie, Here We Be. Where Be We?]
