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Daisy, or lack of it.

Posted by Gimwinkle on Thursday, June 20 2019 at 0:22:11PM

As I grow old(er), I'm becoming more and more of a lackadaisical anarchist.

I saw, in a movie last night, a quote that sticks in my head:

"Oh, there you are. You found me."
"With today's technology, finding someone is easy. Not being found is hard."


You must be licensed to drive a car. You must be licensed to sail a boat. You must be licensed to fly an aircraft. You must be licensed to sell a house.

Do this! Don't do that! Can't you read the sign?

I sailed along Lake Ontario's western shore to a small swamp and rowed ashore. There, wonderful bird chirps and squawks, a fresh breeze filled with various sweet smelling plant and flower scents, and the view of a garden called Eden. I walked about the water eroded round stones, squished fine sand between my toes, and skipped some of those round stones across the small pond. I strolled past some underbrush and, damn it, found a bold, white sign about 15 feet high. There, painted in brilliant red on a white background were the common "NO" circle-slashed red symbols said no rowboats, no powerboats, no fishing, no camping, no campfires, no alcohol, no picking of flowers, not hunting, NO, NO, NO! Then, Visitors welcomed.

Many years ago, when I was young, impetuous, full of testosterone, and with a very pretty (legal) girl, we made love on the beach near the base I was stationed at. It was in the wee hours of the morning and there wasn't a soul but us there. We sat in the reeds and, well, the discussion drifted to the sexual fires that burned inside us. So, we did something about it.

But, it was illegal. Had the Shore Patrol discovered us, it would have been jail for the rest of the night and me to stand before the squadron commander to explain why I should be allowed to continue flying. (For just having sex????)

No, for allowing someone to see me doing so.

Fortunately, that didn't happen. What did happen, on another excited night, was in a secluded small stand of woods near some barracks. The girl and I were alone and I had brought a blanket to spread out on the seldom traveled path to the barracks. Of course, with my luck, just as I was fully focused on what we were doing, I heard foot steps and saw a young lieutenant walking along the trail. He stepped over us and continued on as if we were but a fallen log in his way.

But, what if he did understand what we were doing and confronted me about it?

Why do they close public parks at night?

I'm lackadaisical because I don't mind Society making rules for itself. I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do. So, in advocacy, clandestine violation of the rules seems justifiable to me.

Is that so bad?




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