Go Chips

So Lucia, E, and I had dinner at Chiang Mai.
E saw Erik Estrada outside the Go Club, so after we ate dinner Lucia scootered over there with her. He was gone, but Lucia asked a man, and presently Erik Estrada came out and Lucia took photos with my camera. Nice man -- E was thrilled. I ribbed her going home -- "You were the one who said 'What for?' when I said I was bringing my camera!"




Loosh asked me if I didn't feel it was sad to see people who were on the way down, so to speak, but I gave a non-reply, saying that many of the people in that category were probably only famous because of a fad or fluke -- I did agree with her, really, and it is sad-ish, in a way, except I think it would be sadder to have never made it anywhere high enough to fall from. How sad can it be, really -- if you are basically intact and can earn a living -- it all boils down to the elusiveness of time, and how we think things will last forever but they don't... The passage of time is something to ponder -- but I can't get anywhere, really, when I strain my brain about it. So yes -- I do think it's sad, but I don't know why I should feel that way.

Once I was surfing and came across a website for a Down's Syndrome man, made by his father. Through reading I found out the father and mother had two children, both boys. One is Down's, and the other had a catastrophic head injury in a car crash as a young man, and lives in a home as a non-functioning adult. And what about the woman in France who had to euthanise her son and faces charges -- I guess the information we have access to makes our pity seem frivolous as there's always another more awful thing around the corner. Can our sadness and pity stretch far enough to cover everyone? Does it get thin like a stretched balloon? Is the sadness/pity a beneficial emotion in some way for the feeler(desirable as a component of empathy?), but of no worth to the pitty-ee? Is there a tragedy contest going on? I often have people tell me they think they shouldn't complain to me because I have it worse -- but they have as much right as anyone to vent their troubled feelings. It's late and I stopped making sense years ago*. Good Night.

As proof, consider the way "pity" is spelled.