What if everybody in the world, at the same day, at the same minute, opened their window, looked at the sky, took a big breath end yelled out their lungs  saying, " Thank you very much, thank you a lot." The view  would probably change, suffused suddenly with light and color, and clarity. On the other hand what if everybody in the world, at the same day, at the same minute, opened their window, looked at the sky, took a big breath and yelled out their lungs saying, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it any more." The view would darken and sounds of sorrow, tears and grief would arise. My new book "Listen to your Garden" , as I now know,  is a love story. Its genre is thank you very much, thank you a lot. What if, is only wistful thinking! It may be that we often took everything for granted, or else some things for granted. In a distant time and a distant place we were given a grant that allowed us to live in a place of light and color and clarity. We may have spoiled it by forgetting to say thank you very much, thank you a lot for the grant we were given, and fell into saying something like I was mad as hell and  I am not taking it any more. The movie "Network" ,describes television as "Indifferent to suffering, insensitive to joy. All of life is reduced to the rubble of banality."  The task of mankind is to recover the grant,  or at least whatever is left for the wistful among us. Not just, as it were, taking the grant for granted.

In our little townhouse group we have a countertenor who has a wonderful voice. It is nearing Christmas and we are to have a carol party on tap to which the pianist and I are going and looking forward to and the hostess has invited the townhouse gang. The carol of good King Wenceslas invariably over the years always brings tears to my eyes as the snow, deep and crisp and even is hard for the young page to tread so he steps in the old king's footsteps as they go the distance to help yonder  poor peasant collecting crude sticks in the  freezing cold for his meagre winter fuel. They will bring him back for " flesh and wine" on the night of the Feast of Stephen since the night was cruel. The carol is sung in three parts, the KIng  and page's dialogue and the narrative. I am sure  our countertenor and the townhouse gang could do a bang-up job of the carol, the act of the old Saint to his page and peasant. I can't tell you why it always evokes tears but it is true that as one becomes older, simple acts of kindness frequently trigger the right brain into self expression. The hostess, the pianist and the countertenor may say to me that I should mind my own business but on the other hand, "nothing ventured, nothing gained."