Late afternoon in this prematurely warm spring weather, with the grass so green from the rains and the new buds on every tree (even my apple tree), it's the season for kids playing sports outdoors.
One of the first times I became conscious of this particular type of light was in 1969, half a world from here, in Afghanistan.
The sun must have been hitting Central Asia that fall at a similar angle to what is bathing us in light this spring in San Francisco. It's warm enough that sunbathers are out, tank tops are on, and everyone's sneezing from pollens in our air.
Our perceptions of light seem like all other sensory inputs -- capable of stirring memories. We've been here before...a bird is flying far overhead, the sky is deep blue, a far away airplane growls lazily, some small kids are racing about in the foreground, their bodies so perfect and still growing.
An old person walking a dog lifts her head briefly from its usual position pointed southward. She smiles. With the effort, her ancient eyes have spotted a kindred soul. An old man is out of breath from walking ever so slightly uphill. He holds his chest, his face grows red, he is wondering how much longer he must endure these chest pains, and hopes, "not long."
A tiny boy, with golden hair, runs onto the practice soccer field, grabs a ball and kicks it joyfully toward the sideline.
A little girl (mine) takes a ball kicked into her stomach, briefly cries, then returns to the game.
Later, she scores.
Two teenage friends play backyard basketball at a furious pace. When they miss shots, they yell loud expletives. I contemplate whether to intervene. Perhaps a neighbor would be offended?
I decide not to. I was a teenager myself once, and despite my great age, I remember the feelings. Best to let it go.
Later, driving my athletes to their soccer practices, way across town, the boys are talking about what a weird year it has been at their school.
First, the apparent sexual predator who kept trying to talk to girls through the fence
around the playground, and who then turned up at the front door one day, trying to convince one particular girl that her mom had sent him to pick her up.
(He's in jail now.)
Then, the boy, somewhat troubled, who got angry at a classmate and was apparently trying to choke her to death until my youngest son intervened, angrily pulling him off his intended victim.
(This boy has since left the school.)
Today, a boy allegedly with "learning disabilities," who has been a major part of the school for years, announced he is leaving. He's been doing badly in academics and now will try home schooling with a tutor.
The place his Dad works recently was shut down, as well. Could that be a factor?
My kids are privileged to live in one of the great cities on the planet, and to attend a school founded by teachers whose top priority always seems to be their students. But, like so many other families in America, we too are now seriously threatened financially.
Ever since my boss scheduled a "check-in" with me last September, which turned out to be a "check-out" for me, I have struggled to patch together a living to support my family. I have pretty much failed in this regard.
Although I try not to look at my bank account and retirement account balances at times like these, when everything for everybody has lost so much value across the board, it is impossible to remain ignorant forever.
Accordingly, yesterday and today I have assessed my personal financial damage during this downturn, and the bloodshed is terrifying. My "net worth" has largely evaporated; once again, the sacrifices from a lifetime of hard work, a heavy bias toward saving, and self discipline on the expense side has evaporated in the wake of a financial tsunami created by unscrupulous real estate agents, mortgage brokers, and ignorant home-buyers.
The government, meanwhile, is bailing out corruptly mismanaged companies like Bear Stearns, while ignoring all the working families who are losing their homes, however unwisely acquired.
"For Sale" signs are sprouting up all over this city, and most other cities.
None of this can be rationalized, unless you believe in a combination of unfettered capitalism and social Darwinism.
I don't want to embrace those philosophies, but if this recession drives my family out of our chosen home city, I'll have no other option to conclude that this society no longer has any kind of heart.
The answer actually is blowing in the wind, Mister Zimmerman.
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