It was great fun while it lasted, but we’re back from Palm Springs to join our friends in the Minneapolis ice box.
When I was in college, I had this philosophy professor who spent his early years in Holland during WWII. Several nights a week, German bombers would fly over and destroy entire neighborhoods with incendiary bombs. The homes of virtually all of his friends and family were destroyed over time, but strangely enough, in the midst of all this destruction, his home stood untouched. One night, while he was huddled in a shelter, his home took a direct him and was totally obliterated. Rather than being devastated by this, he only felt a sense of relief, knowing that now he was sharing the suffering equally with so many others.
It was 65 degrees in Palm Springs when we left and 17 degrees in Minneapolis when we landed. Somehow I thought I was going to feel better about sharing this miserable weather with all of you, but something has gone wrong, I don’t feel better at all. It’s cold, dark and icy outside. What in the world are all of us doing here, anyway?
