Yesterday I bought a new pair of walking shoes. Mephisto wedges. Magenta red and adding half an inch on my 5’2″ 115 pound frame. Retailing for something like $350 but with a 40 percent discount. A trendy new look and ingenious way of making old folk orthopedics seem sexy.
Today they’re digging into my heel slightly but I hold out high hopes and keep trudging along. A greater curse, greater than the blister, is that snow is forecasted and so tomorrow I’ll have to drag out my boots once again, along with the snow shovel I suppose.
But anyway it’s spring, indeed it is, and I’m on the lookout for robins. Heather and I have pledged to each other that with the first robin, we’ll head into the closest pub and with a glass of wine toast to it.
We’ll be toasting to the bird, to the season, but we’ll also be toasting to Heather’s brother Robin, who died over a decade ago. I never met him but I’ll be pleased to raise a glass to his life, over far too soon.
I’m all over the place in this blog post, kind of like my meanderings around the city in my new red shoes. I’ll try to settle down now and stick to my originally intended topic: Yale university and death. I’m “attending” an Open Yale philosophy course on death.
Yesterday, when Heather checked out my next-up podcast, as I slipped the ear buds into my holes and set off, she laughed at the title: PHIL 176-Death.
“You’ll have to blog about this. Write about what it’s like to watch awakening spring with death in your ear.” She didn’t say this exactly but it sounds more poetic so I’ll leave it as is.
Is death an evil? How? Why? Is suicide morally permissible? Is it rational? How should the knowledge that I am going to die affect the way I live my life? These are some of the questions raised by Professor Shelly Kagan.
I’ve switched off death for a while.
Instead, I’m searching for a red breast to match my red shoes and listening to Marley:
Get up, stand up, don’t give up the fight.
p.s. apologies for the anachronistic autumn photograph. No red-shoed spring shots yet but you’ll get the point.