Strange Sounds From The Cuckoo's Nest

There I was this morning, sitting at a corner table at a Dunkin' Donuts, not in my neighborhood, a cup of coffee untouched in front of me, gazing out at Tampa driving by. The morning was clear and crisp. The sky was wish-you-were here blue, proving that,while blue skies may be a component of happiness, they cannot do the job alone. An Hispanic woman sits with her back to me, energetically bombarding the man sitting across from her with questions, giving him no space to answer. Another little Latin lady pushes a broom by my table and smiles. I smile back.

Across the street a sign for "Lupton's Buffet" peeks out from behind a palm tree and transports me instantly to our first base in California and Claire, who lived down the street from us and was doing a PhD in mediaeval literature. I imagine she felt, as I did, that she had arrived in Outer Mongolia, but this was where Uncle Sam had sent our second lieutenant husbands so there was nothing to be done but grin and bear it. The husbands all car pooled to the rocket lab every day and when the car of the day arrived at Lupton's the door would open and disgorge N, briefcase in one hand, hamburger and coke in the other [at 6:30 a.m.!] proving that just because you were a graduate of Yale didn't mean you had a clue. Just look at  Dubbya.

But Claire was classy. I took a Rennaissance Literature class from her that made me wonder why on earth I'd done P.E. But then, that was back when I didn't have a clue either. We dipped into all kinds of famous and fascinating works including Dante's Inferno [Claire's cat was named Beatrice] and The Decameron. They're on my bookshelves still in hopes that one day soon I'll drop everything and read them. I've heard  of procrastination and taking a while to get around to reading something-----but forty years?? The time may finally be right, the stars correctly aligned.....should start with the Inferno, as, given the events of the past year, it would be, hands down, the most appropriate choice.

And then I was out of time. The last of the morning customers, sitting alone in the corner, intermittently chewing on the end of my pen  and scribbling, because it's NaBloPoMo time and I'm going to do one day of it at least.....