I was again up early to the car dealership this morning to have repaired what was not done properly last week. I thought if I was first in line this time, I wouldn't wait twenty minutes for the privilege of being seen, but it seems there is some rite of passage at this dealer, and twenty minutes you will wait, because the multitude of service people are so busy with their computers rather than the customers.
I was sad and reflective when I read that John Updike died, so I am surprised at this poem he recently wrote.
by John Updike
It came to me the other day:
Were I to die, no one would say,
“Oh, what a shame! So young, so full
Of promise — depths unplumbable!”
Instead, a shrug and tearless eyes
Will greet my overdue demise;
The wide response will be, I know,
“I thought he died a while ago.”
For life’s a shabby subterfuge,
And death is real, and dark, and huge.
The shock of it will register
Nowhere but where it will occur.
— JOHN UPDIKE