At 8:00 a.m. at the Four Points Sheraton on K Street in Washington D.C. the church bells ring. Or no, maybe it's a digital tape of church bells. There's a nice little sequence of music, ringing bell tones, a chiming, mettalic sound clanging out some medieval-sounding ditty.
It's my third day here, another cloudy, rainy morning. So far my visit has been a sort of gloomy excurision. I'm armed with a load of business cards, a smile and an easy manner. It hasn't really gotten me very far. I'm looking to "make something happen," and the world seems a little cool to my plan. I'm mean, do we ever really "make" anything happen? Or does the world just happen, and we happen to be in it?
I had a long sleep, in contrast to the night before when I tossed and turned. Being on double-super-secret-probation has kind of gotten to me. I mean, I know it's ridiculous, but I guess I sort of dread it too, or as Eric Burdon once said, "Oh lord, don't let me be misunderstood."
I sometimes seems to really get in trouble when I "try" to do the right thing. I am also sometimes honest to a fault. This does not go down well with some of my business collegues. I've been told I need to be more "collegial." I find that mildly hilarious. I guess I feel I don't really belong here. I'm on a mission improbable...the bells remind me that things haven't always been like this...there are other times, other realities here with us always...