C'mon Alex

Every morning when I run, I hit a wall in the last half mile. It’s crazy really. You would think after 12 years at it, my body would adjust. It must be mental. I can hear those who know me well as they read this. Out of the sides of their mouths, they are saying—Oh, it’s mental alright.

So I save Arcade Fire’s song _Neighborhood #2 (Laika)_ for that last leg. It’s got that you-could-run-up-the-steep-side-of-Everest-and-be-back-by-tea-time sort of quality. Really. Hit the arrow above and you’ll agree. Only strap in first, lest you find yourself running up the sides of your cubicle—something that our company’s president has kindly requested that I refrain from trying again. Whatever. Everybody loves the NEW styling cubicles we got out of that, well, botched experiment.

Oh, and one more thing about this song, for any literary types. Every time it begins, for some inexplicable reason, I think of Herman Melville. Not Melville the austere author, but young Herman, as he looked down at his twenty-some-year-young feet standing on the old, warped planks of the Acushnet, before it left port. The Herman who must have, at least for a moment, looked down as the water below him started to move past the hull and said, Oh crap, I’m on a whaling ship. What the FECK am I doing on a whaling ship? Don’t you think he must have? At least once? Every grand adventure has at least a moment of that. Otherwise, how grand can it possibly be? Play the song again. Close your eyes this time. And think about those very young feet, and the water passing by underneath them.

Alexander . . . our older brother . . . set off for a . . . . GREAT ADVENTURE.

Happy Fourth, All. Have yourself a. . .GREAT ADVENTURE.