The Sky is What? Falling?

I'm taking a break from the news--except for brief listens to NPR, assuring me that things in Washington, DC, are in their usual uproar.

I haven't seen an actual TV screen in over a week, and it's good to take a break from CNN  sometime
(even though I do care) where the same tragedies and discords repeat over and over and over, making the viewer think that the Sky is Falling.

I remember that Thoreau didn't read the newspaper.  Whatever happens today has happened before and will happen again--he said something to that effect, though I can't recall the exact quotation.

When we see the repetition of the same story over and over again, it is as if it's the Most Important Story, and it becomes what we focus upon.

To get a taste of local color in any region, I sometimes listen to local talk shows.  Usually, what you hear is ranting about the government, taking sides, polarizing opinions.  People call in, everyone feeding anger.

When I'm driving under the Real Sky, I notice that it isn't falling.
The Real Sky doesn't seem particularly interested in what the Powers That be are doing in Washington, D.C.  The Real Sky doesn't care much who likes who, who's popular, who's not.  The Real Sky is indifferent to the fluctuations of our budgets, personal or global.

If you want to hear some Really Good Radio, listen to local swap meets.  Callers call in to see who has what they might need and to offer to sell or give away what they no longer need: cars, refrigerators, puppies, you name it.

Driving across western New Mexico, I heard some man offer to give away" a whole bunch of ukeleles if some little boy would like to come pick 'em up."

That was my news story of the day.  I could imagine some little boy's daddy driving him over to the house of the man whose fingers had grown too stiff to play his ukeleles. I could imagine them putting ukeleles in the  pick up truck and hauling them home, someone teaching the boy how to play.