Sunday, bloody Sunday

Sunday, May 1, 2011 was an interesting day.

A machine broke and I let out an audible yelp. I then sulked most of the day and felt generally lost until we met up with James. I later learned that about the same time we met James in Longmont, Navy SEALS killed the most dangerous man on the planet. That just made me feel dumb for mourning my Kindle.

I started the day writing a blog post about my thoughts on War & Peace (yes, seriously). I have a lot to say about the book and I missed the first meeting of the book club group. I wanted to get my thoughts down.

In the middle of my post, I wanted to quote from a passage I had highlighted that really illustrated why I thought the War scenes were necessary and enjoyable. (The movie Pear Harbor may or may not have been referenced).

I went to get my Kindle and found it laying awkwardly on my I-pod, screen down. Now, I never put it anywhere without the cover closed. But, I also have a five-year-old, so anything goes.

I let out an audible yelp when I picked it up and saw the distorted discombobulated screen. I tried to revive it, reboot it, shake it, then died a little inside before calling tech support. The techie all but told me to take it out back and shoot it.

The blog post had to wait.

For background, I can't live without my Kindle. I'm lost without it. I take it everywhere "just in case." I hate going anywhere only to discover it isn't with me and I have to wait more than one minute for anything. It actually makes me angry.

I went to the Library book sale, and felt like I was not honoring its memory. Surrounded by paper books. It sounds crazy, but this darkened my mood.

After a break, Dave and I went to see James. Meanwhile, somewhere in Abbotobad or About-a-boat Pakistan, Navy SEALS were kicking the hell out of casa-de-Osama.

We had a good time chatting with James and Jacob and Ian got to play together. It was a good time. I even managed to borrow James' copy of The Hobbit so I could continue to read while my poor dead Kindle mocked me with its blinking screen. (this mitigated my mood more than it should have).

I finished another chapter of The Hobbit and received the news from James that Obama was about to announce his inevitable re-election, er, uh... the killing of Osama Bin Laden.

I stopped reading and started listening... and surfing... and twittering... and facebooking... and, yes, I had a drink. (Topic of the night? Our President performed the walk-off of a major BADASS after his speech. My brother said he couldn't have improved it if he dropped the mic like Chris Rock.)

So, here's my story behind the Cognac. The best professor I ever had was Edward Rozek. He grew up in Poland until WWII forced him to fight for all he was worth. He then became a prominent politico and professor here in the USA. He taught all things Eastern bloc and was passionate in his hawkishness toward dictators who terrorized his home region.

Every story about a dictator brought to justice ended the same way. From Mussolini hanging from a lamp post to the picking-off of each Slavic bully and mass murderer, Professor Rozek would polish off an entire bottle of Cognac and celebrate a piece of liberation. He felt a unique joy at their demise that comes from having fought a war that failed to liberate his homeland. Every liberation was the righting of a wrong for him.

I tipped back a Cognac and Coke-a-cola in his honor and watched people singing on the White House lawn. I scoured for details and essentially forgot about my beloved Kindle. Gotta love perspective.

As a peace-loving person who opposes the death penalty, I thought long and hard about whether I could feel good about it. Well, there was no debate. It felt good. I just needed a reason. I guess Mark Twain said it best when he said:
"I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure."

So, for better or worse, Wars -- whether justified or not, big or small -- shape our world. War & Peace expresses that because war is the overriding factor of the world in which the characters live, and it provides the canvas for their lives (in this case: dinner parties).

I bought a new Kindle today. I'm back to comfort -- and that statement just struck me as interesting in light of all the relief one bullet brought. I don't feel safer, but I do feel relieved.