Opinion
MEDINA — FROM THE VALLEY
In light of the recent airline tragedy that has taken place in our community, I find it necessary to address the situation before I attempt any semblance of normality — at least as “normal” as this column gets. I do so not only to conform to the standards of propriety, but, so that I can share with you one of my favorite pieces of literature.
It comes from a John Donne meditation (XVII) — and my hope is that it can help you understand why one feels the way one does when a catastrophe of any nature occurs.
And so, before I start the serious business of ridiculing everything in sight and at the risk of sounding self-indulgent, I offer:
“No man is an island, entire of itself;
Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were,
As well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were;
Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind;
And therefore, never send to know for whom the bells toll;
It tolls for thee.”
Thank you, good readers!
•••
I took my wife to dinner on Valentine’s Day. What the heck — it was on my brother Mike’s coin as he and his wife, Debbie, had given us a gift certificate to go to Zambistro’s in Medina (Great food, by the way!).
I’d been in a fairly somber mood the last couple of days due to the aforementioned accident and was having difficulty writing this week’s column. It takes a light-hearted mood to do this sort of thing and that was a far cry from where I was at (Like many others, our son, Paul, and his family live very close to the crash site).
So, while we were dining I decided to bounce a few — what I thought were — comical ideas off of my wife, Kathie, that I had brewing for this week’s article. It was an attempt to get her reaction. Always, a good idea.
“I heard that Kellogg’s fired Michael Phelps as their spokesperson,” I told her.
“So?” she responded, in a an incredulously long sentence.
“Not to worry,” I said, with the extra burden of carrying on with her part of the conversation, too, “Swanson is going to offer him a contract.”
“He’s going to endorse their pot-pies?” she asked matter-of-factly, never looking up.
“Hey, that was my line. How’d you know?”
“What,” she said, “like I don’t know you?”
“OK, fair enough. A guy from work, named Mark,” I continued, “has been asking me to write an article about the wick in our old kerosene heater. I had a hard time replacing it so I threw the whole thing out. No more of those things. And he thought it would be a good story.”
“Dare I ask how you would do that — in two hours or less, please”? My beloved valentine said while nodding and waving across the room at family friends, Carl and Jeanne Tuohey.
“Well, I’m not going to write about the wick replacement incident but I e-mailed Mark and in the e-mail I came up with what I would consider a clever joke.”
“Can you ask the waiter for the check?” she responded.
Undiscouraged (well, somewhat), I continued, “A wick walks into a bar and orders a drink. The bartender refuses to serve him. The wick asks why and the bartender says “I’m sorry but you’re already lit.’”
“Do you have enough money to leave a decent tip this time?” she asked, oblivious to the quality of the free comedy coming her way.
“Wait a second. Did you hear me?” I begged.
“Listen,” she said seriously, “how often have you seen a wick walk into a bar?”
“Are you kidding? It’s a joke! Like a duck walks into a bar type-of-gag.”
Wow! Talk about a tough crowd!
“Regardless,” I said, “Do you think it’s good enough to put in the column?”
“I’ve got a feeling you already did.”
Damn, she DOES know me!
And for today, my friends, that’s the way it looks from the Valley.
Tom Valley is a Medina resident who writes a column every Wednesday for The Journal-Register. Write to Tvalley@rochester.rr.com.
