meetings abound like baby rabbits

"Do not let me hear
Of the wisdom of old men, but rather of their folly,
Their fear of fear and frenzy, their fear of possession,
Of belonging to another, or to others, or to God." The Four Quartets, T.S.
Eliot

That's the other half of my house. And here, you frenzied stalkers, is a rough floor plan:



I am here. Here being a coffee shop on one edge of town near the river, because everything is near the river, and the coffee is weak, but that's my mistake for saying, "Yes, the light blend" by which it could be construed I did not want the dark unless all else failed in the world and God let me down. It's my first coffee in two weeks. Whoo hoo. I haven't really missed it. I'm more of a water person anyway. Water and whiskey. What more does one need? Toast! That's the answer: toast.

Today I earnestly Did Things. I went to meetings. I clambered around the county building. I drove to other county buildings. I met People. I obtained documents, made phone calls, scheduled interviews. I even tackled the office phone and changed my mailbox message to reflect my name. Obviously I am not "Joe" and all the people who were calling or calling back kept leaving confused messages, "They told me at the front desk that this is your extension, but your voice mailbox says Joe...so I'm going to leave this message...I hope you get it..."

Much number punching and pounding of the pound button later and I'm all set. "You've reached Katie Wilson, please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

But I began with the T.S. Eliot for a reason. Public meetings are crazy things where people sit in a small, low-ceiling series of rooms and discuss the finer points of provision such and such laid out under measure x with the will to pass the motion or discuss it with the mysterious sub-committee of another department that may or may not exist but might now be a commission and not a department at all if, in fact, it ever was one. Citizens who come to these meetings (if they come often enough) are versed in the language and they use it recklessly, cunningly, blindly, often. And this is how our country runs along its merry way, through thousands and thousands of small government departments and committees folding into each other like Russian nesting dolls.

The astounding point of it all is that despite the slander and scandal and lies and law-breaking and good men and bad men the system eventually works. Not always, of course, but more often than you would think. It's a mad machine that keeps us all on paved roads.

It raises a few concerns:

Such as, being the idealist I have discovered I am on good days, how can anything ever be changed for the better?

Never can the stupidity (the general, plodding, herding stupidity) of people be so focused, obvious, and given weight and time to waste as at a public meeting. Thus, in my idealistic state, I acknowledge often how much I can't stand other people. Thus, why would I want to change anything even if I could?

Ponder ponder.

Thankfully, I'm usually too busy to ponder, but better to ponder the outside than the inside. Too much introspection makes me unhappy. Better to be busy and working with my hands what is good so I may give to them that needeth, etc. I wonder about introspection, crafty devil that it is, bringer of despair, sorrow and other meddlesome emotions.