The apartment across the hall from where we’re staying in Minneapolis is undergoing extensive renovation – walls being moved, floors torn up and every day last week the noise from there was seismic, volcanic, like they were throwing pickup trucks into a giant grinder – and when I walked out of our place and saw a workman, I asked him how long this racket would continue and I used, as a modifier to “racket”, a word not seen in your family newspaper. Not yet, God help us, though I’ve heard it used by small children in New York attending schools named for saints. Kids grow up faster in New York.
“You sit in a traffic jam yelling at other drivers and where does it get you?”
I felt bad about my cursing. I still do. I am trying to give up anger. It’s poisonous and it has no effect other than to make the angerer feel bad and perhaps do something truly stupid. You sit in a traffic jam yelling at other drivers and where does it get you? You read about Kevin McCarthy online and in your fury you hurl your laptop out the window and how does this change anything? (I didn’t do that, only considered it.)
