maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets. -arthur miller


Frivolity (is an interestingly conjugated word)

I had dinner the other night with an Israeli family friend who, at 22 years old, has just gotten out of the army. He regaled us with stories of sneaking off the base to a local bar, impromptu parties thrown with contraband liquor, college-age idiocy of all kinds with his squadron.

That was in between guard duty on the West Bank, of course.

Tonight I spent a few hours at the library writing about jurisprudence-building and enfranchisement during the two eras of American Reconstruction. On the way back to the dorm, I got to thinking about whether or not Jennifer Garner has had that baby yet, and whether she and Affleck named it Spearmint or Hazelnut or Pepsee Investigator (Teller (or Penn?) I'm looking at you) or, you know, JoeBob. And then I wondered if Brit-Brit and little Cheeto were wondering where deadbeat dad K-Fed was, and if they really cared.

You know what? In the long run, pretty much everything I thought about tonight--from the Civil War to fundraising for my team to Rupert Grint's truly unfortunate haircut--seems pretty frivolous when Raffi spent his 20th year manning a border checkpoint between Israel and Lebanon.


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