It got breezy this afternoon. I went to the bank. I got to the front of the line, at the end of the velvet rope and brass posts. And there I had the pleasure of staring at myself on a black and white TV which sat on the counter between the tellers’ windows. I was being watched by a camera on the ceiling. That was fun. No, I really hate that. What is that, a subtle warning to bank robbers? They don’t already know about the cameras? But I digress.

I left the bank and drove past the school where I went as a kid, and saw the American and California flags, flapping in the wind. They were thrust out due east, toward the playground.

I remember we used to run away out into the playground on windy days, turn and face the wind that was blowing due east. Then we’d hold open our nylon jackets – windbreakers – at the bottoms, and lean over into the wind. It could almost pick us up! Then we would run hard into the wind, spread our wings and jump – and for a moment we would fly.

Yesterday, I mailed the mortgage payment. I’m leaning a little on the grace period this month. So it goes. But I digress.

I did something evil this morning. I was driving past the school, heading the other way. Handel on the stereo. There was a group of kids by the fence, girls I think. And kids sometimes stand by the fence and try to get cars to honk, so I gave them a little toot toot with my silly Toyota truck horn and waved. Then I realized they were yelling “Our ball! Our Ball! Get our Ball!” and I passed their ball, in the gutter, doing 23 miles an hour and didn’t even slow down.

I didn’t want to stop and get out and cross the street and toss the ball over the fence. I was moving – places to go – and oh boy I’ve done it now. I mean, it you believe in Karma – little wheel turn by the fire and rod, big wheel turn by the grace of God – or just that what goes around comes around, I’ve really stepped in it this time, right?

Any thoughts on atonement would be appreciated. And since you’ve so graciously waded through my pitiful tale, here’s the poem you were expecting:

The Wind, One Brilliant Day

The wind, one brilliant day, called
to my soul with an odor of jasmine.

“In return for the odor of my jasmine,
I’d like all the odor of your roses.”

“I have no roses; all the flowers
in my garden are dead.”

“Well then, I’ll take the withered petals
and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain.”

The wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself:
“What have you done with the garden that was entrusted
to you?”

— Antonio Machado