He watched the totally British existentially,

humorous chronology of coming of age and

they are moving along from one event in time

to another totally absorbed in their mostly

adolescent male narcissism, “I can’t think of

anything to ask you about yourself, your life,

over dinner,” to totally tele-trivia.

The pass from July 1993 to whenever completely

skips the earth shattering, sun and moon eclipsing

event that transcends the start of WWI, WWII,

Korea, Vietnam, Kuwait, Iraq and Afghanistan —

August 21, 1993 a day that will live in infamy in

his life and the lives of the children, the day Honey

and mom died, but come on, it has been almost

nineteen years and it’s more than time to realize

how many others have lived and died recognized

by those for whom it counted, while life passed

by, and then he watched the T.V. as she died,

unexpectedly, slap yourself upside the head, in

a cycling accident.  She was breezing along, enter-

ed the street via a blind alley and that was that. He

sat stunned.  He thought it would be superficial.