December 29th, 2016

abstract butterfly

WHO died

I woke up and made Quaker Lower Sugar oatmeal. I worked a bit on something I am drafting. I made it to my office in good order and worked a solid day. I got good year-end firm news. I lunched at Potbelly, where I had the TKY sandwich with baked chips. At 6 p.m., I attended a Weight Watchers meeting. I was 2 pounds up--not so much from the holiday, I reckon, as from massive fresh fruit intake. This kind of weight gain dissipates easily. I watched some of a sports contest in which my alma mater lost a massive lead and a bowl game.  I watched a documentary about the influence of Sherlock Holmes upon forensic science.

I liked seeing the footage of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle talking about Mr. Holmes, as I had not realized that moving pictures of him existed.  I thought about a gingerbread man not eaten. I walked at noon in Breckinridge Park, where an Eastern Phoebe caught my attention.  I thought about the New Year, the old year, the world's dysfunctions and Dr. D.A. Henderson, the man who died in 2016 who helped eradicate the spread of smallpox.  I learned of Dr. Viktor Mikhailovich Zhdanov, the Soviet scientist who convinced the World Health Assembly to undertake the first world-wide effort to eradicate smallpox. I read of John Glenn, the astronaut who died in 2016.

On-line, I see a lot of odd literalism about the various internet folk observations about the musicians and actors who died in 2016. I think that folks lose sight of how we are story-telling animals, and ascribe to other folks exaggerated beliefs in literal, anthropomorphic conduct by a monolithic 2016 that nobody actually believes. Sometimes I think that a few people do not fully understand metaphor and story, and that unfortunately that population is quite vocal on social media.

I plan to find more overlooked 19th C. novels on