Different kinds of sadness
The French foot fans are in shock. After showing the world that their dirty laundry is best refolded in public, the numbers came back into the equation. The national team is history (for this series).
Their sadness isn’t mine. I couldn’t have told you the name of a single player, or guessed with certainty at their jersey colours. Not my game. No, my newest sadness comes from the decision by an American judge to overturn the shutdown of oil exploration in that messed up gulf of theirs. Money over sense.
But, retort the drillers and ferry men, this was a time of great sadness for them, while they waited for their judge to reopen the “spigots”. Promise, cross their heart, hope to cry. No more spillage of expensive oil on their watch. It’s sad to watch the potential dollars spreading on the open sea.
You see, it’s a question of interest and degree. I’m sad that Thursday might be rainy, but I’d be sadder if it really rained. Risk of floods.
The American president is sad that his top general did some serious back talking. I mean, your top general should be on your side, right?
Stevie in Ottawa should be sad that the people didn’t accept his “common sense approach to crime”. Sure, keeping criminals in jail longer will cost more, but the public doesn’t need to know that little detail.
And finally, on the different sadness subject, I should feel sad that son #3 is no longer available for a summer on the beach. Yes, he seems to have stumbled into gainful employment, and for that, there’s a degree of joy.
