Curse And Curses

What came to mind unexpectedly was curses – the real thing.  Actually there are a few different notions in the word “curse.”  What came to mind rather profoundly after a time was a smallish well built man, a total stranger, seething with something like a rage just marching up suddenly and declaring, for a completely unknown reason, a curse, as in a firm deliberate statement like, “May you burn in hell for all eternity.”  It seems like it did happen once a very long time ago and it was ignored.  If one did nothing to merit such a thing, it wouldn’t take effect as such decisions would not be made by someone who was just out of sorts or maybe met an unsolvable problem. 

It seems to have started out because of a very bad cold, so bad that the coughing and congestion and inability to breathe was bad enough to seriously consider reaching for the telephone to dial 911 for the fire department’s emergency squad.  Things didn’t go that far as the air passages did clear enough to breathe, but it did happen twice, more or less two days apart.  Now getting rid of a cold under the present circumstances can be close to impossible.  It was described to friends and others as a “common curse,” as it also is that.  In addition somehow the topic of cursing rather than using bedroom or bathroom lingo entered the picture. 

At any rate, the topic arose, seemingly amid some minor activity in that respect due to the cold, and drifted into a more serious consideration of the matter (i.e., maybe there is such a thing as curses) culminating in the vague recollection (such can be frightening) and the answer to such an incident:  if there was nothing done to merit damnation there couldn’t be any.  No need to go worrying about it.  Presumably, it all works into notions about justice, and justice does exist (somewhere – the idea is existent and trade can be equivalent).  Sadly, there are people who would take it all too seriously.  After all, there is no real knowledge of any world but the one at hand. 

Expecting a better day doesn’t bring one, but it makes the present easier. 

A House In The City

As anyone old enough can remember, shortly after the second world war there was a  huge upsurge in housing construction, in certain areas deliberately just outside of city limits.  Why and how people built suburbia is plenty of discussion for another time if not another place.  They did so, by the thousands.  And, businesses and churches both (or maybe alike) went after the people and their “unique” lifestyle.  In older times a majority of the people lived “in town.”  In some places they still do, but not so much.  Recently it be common for a community of 40,000 people to get more attention than an inner one having 200,000.  Dayton’s media was heavily into suburban living.

By the 1970’s one attitude was that there was “nothing in town” even though the place might house hundreds of thousands of people.  Meanwhile, many people in town had the idea they were sensible people, just as worthwhile as any outside of town, but in a severe state of being deliberately ignored.  A friend had a friend that decided to start a specialized newspaper with the likes of low pay writers who had paying jobs.  It was a simple suggestion it be investigated to be helpful.  The in-depth reports really wanted were things for someone else, but he was offered a friendly column about just day-to-day city living.  It was called “A House In The City” (one of several things so named).

The publication didn’t own the rights to it.  When this type of publishing became a way to go, the idea was used again, but under a new name since there was a notion to be expanding it beyond just everyday happenings.  That is where the word Diary became part, and that first attempt was discontinued  as such – split into the two maintained at present.  This little place is spin off from a newspaper column from the 1970s.  Search will probably find nothing as the paper was small, localized and specialized in a part of Dayton, Ohio.  It did exist, and somewhere someone may have a copy saved for some odd reason like his or her picture was in the paper.

Some things die hard.