Many things but first: Authority vs. Correctness

Of course this got me thinking. One thing that I decided was that I am not sure that questioning one's authority is the same as questioning one's correctness. Yes our English language does a poor job of convincing us that they are not connected. [Example: "Mr. Thomnus is an authority of the subject because he has nine degrees on it."] If someone is one of the most correct on a subject, then they are an authority. I say we scratch this entire notion. Authority is a position. Questioning one's authority is questioning if the person should be in the position. Questioning one's correctness, even one that is in a place of authority, is not only healthy but necessary. Maybe this needs more thought and talk but I think not.



Last night I had another moment I do not want to forget. The leaves are changing colors. I drove to a friend's and then we drove to a hot tub. Sat and talked. It got cold. I got hot. The sunset was great. Believe it or not this isn't the best part. So it gets dark at 6:30pm now. We are a bit out in the country (where the hot tub is located). The stars start to come out. We order a pizza from the hot tub but want to go pick it up. We get out. I get cold. Changing and hoping into the car, I begin to drive down curvy roads with no street lights. Music low. Moments of silence and moments of conversation flow. Walking into the pizza place, we got looked at like aliens. Wet hair and light clothes on a night near freezing. The pizza smelt so good we couldn't resist. Cracked open the box and got back on back road. You handed me pizza so I balanced it with one hand and drove with the other. Laughing because: I am about to crash, the pizza burnt my mouth, and I have no idea where I am or where I am going. Then, Death Cab comes on. What timing.

i roll the window down
and then begin to breathe in
the darkest country road
and the strong scent of evergreen
from the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

then looking upwards
i strain my eyes and try
to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites
from the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

"do they collide?"
i ask and you smile.
with my feet on the dash
the world doesn't matter.

Ya. That song.