We are a society rather obsessed with time. We run out of it. We see it fly by. We don’t know where it went. We watch it flow through the hourglass. We cheer it as a ball drops in “Time Square.” In summary, we say, “It’s about time.” Yes, indeed, it is certainly about time. And yes, we are running out of it in relation to the 2022 election. Merrick Garland may be thinking, “I’ve got all the time in the world,” but he’d be dead wrong, for “there’s never enough time.” And Joe Biden’s hoping “a stitch in time saves nine”, wondering how he salvages his legislative agenda after the GOP, along with Manchin and Sinema, scuttled it. Donald Trump is right on Joe’s heels, stalking his shadow, like he once did with Hillary, “biding his time,” and never missing “a beat in time” to vilify his opponents and/or his friends. And Trump Republicans wish “to go back in time” when white Christians were in the majority and and it was “time out” for Blacks and women and Moslems and Jews and Asians, whose “time was over”, when they stayed in their places, and voters wouldn’t “waste their time” reading up on the candidates and make informed choices. The exception is Mike Pence who finally came out and told Trump “times up,” you’re wrong, bud!
Buddhists and other meditators know there’s “no time like the present.” While evangelicals obsess on the “End Times.” And the 1/6 insurrectionists tried to capture “time in a bottle,” but they dropped that bottle and it shattered all over the Capitol tiles leading to their arrests and prosecutions and “jail time.”
Then there’s white supremacists, anti-vaxers, anti-maskers, QAnon-ers, and pro-lifers, and Trump-appointed SCOTUS jokers who are still riding on Teflon Don’s coattails screaming “our time is now.” They live in a Back to the Future world where they’re “running out of time,” like history fading into “the annals of time.”
Well, as I “race against time”, having gotten out of bed way too late this weekend morning, I’ll end this “time-limited” screed and bid you a “see you next time.” It’s “high time” I move on to Saturday errands and such, complying with my wife’s “time-honored” honey-do’s, and thus blithely continue with “the time of my life.”
“Time to beat a hasty retreat,” lest the “time that waits for no man” is like the airplane within which “time flies.”
I know. I know. “Time to get the hell outta here!” “Time to get with it and get off that place where the sun don’t shine!”
And finally From Pink Floyd’s song, “Time”:
“Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I’d something more to say”
One of the times of my life happened when I took time out and lived in a remote cabin in the northern woods for almost four years. You can read all about my adventures and my love affair with nature and getting around mostly on my own two legs, “most of the time”, in my recent memoir Into the Woods…and Beyond, available via Amazon. I think you’ll “have a good time” enjoying it. OK, now I’m serious: Time’s Up!