Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.
Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-eight million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue-green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.
I didn't want the night to pass on this utterly insignificant little blue-green planet without acknowledging the wonderful evening I've had.
After work, I returned home, and my daughter had a package waiting for her on the front porch. When I told her about it, she asked me to bring it to her in her bedroom. When I climbed the stairs, she told me to open the package in front of her.
It turned out to be this:
That would be Sharon Olds' just-published collection of poems, Arias. My daughter's birthday present to me. A wonderful surprise from my little girl who is so proud of her ability to buy gifts with her own money that she earns working at her job.
And then, I drove out into a beautiful sunset:
And attended the Open Mic at the Joy Center in my home town, where I listened to some great writing by some of my most favorite ape-descended life forms. And I shared some newer and older pieces of my own:
This blue-green planet may be insignificant, but Saint Marty had a significantly fulfilling evening on it.
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