Earlier that day, Simone had shared breakfast with Doris, most trusted of our trusted advisors: both data geek and wise grandmother. Doris' parents escaped Nazi Germany in time. Her own children married liberally. Her grandchildren are multi-cultural and thriving.
Today, Doris asked Simone openly, as true-blue friends do: "How are you really feeling?"
Sim One chose to answer honestly; as one does with Doris, who has seen and measured it all:
"Sad and scared. All the time."
And thank whatever, Simone shared that same honest answer with me at Kim's, kicking around hair debris on a well-swept floor.
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If you just felt a big fucking nudge right now?
Welcome to our story. A duet. That big fucking nudge you maybe felt was my "complacency rudder" getting a swift, hard kick in the right direction. Now I knew for sure, from the horse's mouth, from Sim One's mouth with her pretty teeth: things would now change maybe daily in our nest, at an unpredictable pace.
Define "disruption"? Things will change for an old married couple with trenches and grooves and ruts and places and dreams and ambitions and the undone that needs doing....
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We are a household, a couple, a marriage, a pair, a unit, a joint intellectual enterprise, a professional team who speak internationally as salt and pepper (different topics entirely).
And now we are in slewing disruption.
You can assume, "We each have our roles. I'll do mine. She'll do hers."
You can assume, because you're not as rigid as some last-generation deformity-conformity, "Explain. Ears ready." My Sim One encourages everyone, especially the newest.
You can assume that this monstrosity in our hands as of 2021 is fundraising 101: "Revolution now ... and we all and should hate the rich."
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You can also leave.
Because "hating the rich" is a trash proposition by failed fundraisers.
You can also leave because you've failed Simone, who took this very seriously and you don't....
And you're irrelevant to her hard-earned legacy.