ANTS MARCHING

Fear not friends… I am not about to break into a classic Dave Matthews song (although I may refer to the title of that album later on). January 2013 has arrived and, so far, not in the overly dramatic fashion 2012 had done for me. New Year’s Eve was spent at our favorite wine bar with one of our daughters and her boyfriend. It was a surprisingly quiet, but enjoyable, evening and my evil twin came out for only the briefest of moments (to the relief of my family and friends). The evening was hardly the noisy chaos of NYE’s past…and considerably cheaper than past experiences as well. A few days later Wendi & I went to see “Le Miz” with our eldest daughter “Typhoid Mary” who happened to have what was believed to be the waning remains of a bout of bronchitis. The movie was spectacular from the opening scene on. The sight of the prisoners pulling on the ropes to drag the ship into dry dock reminded me of watching ants climb vines in search of food and water when I was a boy. The movie was everything I expected from a Dumas story…anger, obstacles, betrayal, love, selflessness and eventually…redemption, all on a grand scale. The company made the evening all the more special. As our daughter returned us to our cozy little cave I noticed as we hit a high point on the freeway the cars going and coming in front of us. Red lights heading in one direction, white in the opposite direction. Everyone headed somewhere as if their destination was of maximum importance…ants marching…to survive. Our daughter dropped us off and in her wake left us a reminder of her presence. Less than forty-eight hours later I came down with a serious cold and sinus infection and Wendi ended up with bronchitis and so begins the first, no doubt, of many visits to all of those lovely people with initials behind their last names. On the appointed day I got up to shower and get ready to go see Howard. I’m standing in the shower trying to get myself to smell less troll-like than I had been earlier when I noticed a line of ants marching back and forth along the back edge of the tub. This is not unusual here in Arizona. When the weather is hot and dry ants will seek out water from any source they can to survive, but this is the middle of the freaking winter! Not only that, it’s been a reasonably wet one. What do these measly little ants know that WE humans don’t? Granted the major internal waterways of this country are damned near dry and the short term prognosis isn’t rosy, but I couldn’t help wondering if somebody isn’t telling us the whole story here as I got dressed to leave for my appointment. Howard did his usual superb job and prescribed heavy duty antibiotics for both of us strong enough to tranquilize an elephant. I’ve been taking a lot of naps the past year or so… now a coma seems like a power nap yet, I am happy to say, Wendi & I are on the mend. While we sat and waited for our cab to return us home (not being able to drive sucks big time) I thought about Dave Matthews and the album “Under the table and Dreaming”. Interesting title…I don’t remember being under the table as a child with one slight exception. I was in that age group where we had to endure Civil Defense drills where we had to hide under our desks or tables when that awful siren went off…that, ultimately, protected us from absolutely nothing. As I grew older being under the table meant I had succeeded in drinking one or two more drinks than I should have and would pray I woke up the next morning alive and in my own clothes instead of someone else’s. In either case…dreaming wasn’t involved. Maybe I’ve just picked all of the wrong places to dream during my life. Our cab driver finally arrived and we merged on to the freeway to head for home. The driver did his best to keep from getting us killed by the other unconscious commuters in a hurry to get nowhere in particular as quickly as possible. Once again I found us, as I often will this year, in a steady stream of red lights and white lights. All of us “Ants Marching” too…