Nothing’s right

It’s mid-July in what has been a marvelous summer.
For this college professor, there’s six more weeks ahead of doing only things I want to do only when I want to do them. And when classes begin, well, no one has a better job than I.
Still, nothing seems right.
I’m just back from a little four-day trip to Roanoke, Virginia. We, my wife and I, were pinch-hit baby-sitters for our two-year-old great niece Corinne, whom we all call Coco, and her five-month old twin brothers. What greater pleasure is there than holding a sleeping baby? Unless it’s playing the 1950’s song “Lollipop” on my iPhone for their big sister. The two of us singing along.
But somehow nothing’s right.
I missed my morning tennis all week but took care of that a couple of hours ago. I love tennis first thing in the morning. The temperatures are comfortable and there’s never any wind. And I’m hitting my backhand pretty smoothly too. That’s typically the measure of how I am playing. And I’m playing fairly well.
I drove home from the courts knowing there was a fresh, homegrown peach waiting for me. It did not disappoint.
I am sipping a rich cup of coffee while I write.
The British Open is on the Golf Channel in the background with a potential big story brewing after 46-year-old Phil Mickelson’s opening two rounds. The next two days hold great promise.
The All Star break is over and Major League Baseball resumes today.
Outside, the sun in breaking through some early morning cloud cover making a strong case for a lazy afternoon beside a pool.
Tonight, we dine at St. Barbara’s church picnic. I can taste those meatballs now.
But still, nothing’s right.
Nothing’s.
Right.
Not since they found a new way to kill innocent people. Not with guns or bombs this time, but with a tractor trailer.
It’s easy to say the best way to defeat terrorism is to go ahead and live our normal lives. And maybe that’s true. But it’s getting harder and harder to do it.
My life in my little corner of the world is safe, and peaceful, and fun and full. But right now I just cannot shake the news of Nice. Nor do I want to.

Ed Ackerman