Joy on a Gloomy Day

I wrote this a month ago, on a gloomy day, the same day in fact when I wrote this, the day I found the Kay Arthur and the Sarte. I had my voice recorder with me that day, and part of the following is what I recorded. Then yesterday was again a gloomy day, even if the light turned golden come late morning:

I'm walking out of the library. I just found a book called Logic for Philosophers, which may or may not meet my needs for a logic text. I see a guy sitting on a bench with a backpack, and I think he's reading a book. I didn't look carefully enough to tell. I see two other guys testing out a sprinkler system belonging to the library and just seeing those people out there makes me smile, makes me think that the world out there is a wonderful place.

We watched Doctor Who: Gridlock Tuesday night. The episode takes place in this world where people get on the highway and travel for the rest of their lives and they're never heard from again. The world is full of pollution. The sky is hidden from view, nothing to see but the roof of this tube over-head. People get high on emotions that they buy in the form of stickers that they place on their necks. There is no outside. There is only smog. There is no taking a walk. The only way to travel six miles is to get in your car and drive and it's going to take you twelve years.

This New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New York (and that may not even be enough news), the setting for “Gridlock”, is an imaginary world, but here we live in a world where we can go outside any time we want. The sky is beautiful even on a cloudy day like today. There are puffy, cotton-puff clouds in the sky as I drive my car. It's beautiful. The sprinklers made me smile because I had to walk around them not to get wet and that made me happy. There is so much joy to be had in these tiny little things: the fact that I walked into the library book store today and found books that I wanted; the fact that I had my little tape-recorder with me to record my amusement over being wet by sidewalk sprinklers; the fact that people sit on little benches, and sometimes they even still read books, the fact that even though I walk alone, I can share the joke with you.