Visited the graves of Thoreau and Emerson today. Idyllic spot overlooking the woods of Concord. I thought, in a hack way, this is where great writers and thinkers always are, above and looking down in serenity at mortals. Thoreau loved peace and quiet–didn’t even like the sound of the iron horse chugging through Concord to Fitchburg. In the midst of my reverie, five military jets flew out of Hanscom to Fenway Park (so I was told was the destination), all but blowing out my eardrums.
I mean, you couldn’t get away from the roar–all so that those that enjoy watching engines of war overhead could feel inspired that someone else was on the business end of an American bomb or something…. I decided that at least the scene was no longer schmaltzy. Thoreau also hated war, too….but he’s not in a position to protest. But his words are.