About Me

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Since 1984, my light commentary, Marginal Considerations, has been a feature of Weekend Radio. Moving into the 21st century (yeah, I know - a decade late and more than a dollar short), it may be time to explore the format known as "the blog." (Still on the radio, BTW.) I am the author of A Natural History of Socks, illustrated by the late Eric May, You May Already Be a Winner (and other marginal considerations) and The Nonexistence of Rutabagas, plus maybe 1K features, essays, book and arts reviews in newspapers and magazines nearly everywhere, except perhaps Kansas. I live on Lake Erie one city to the west of Cleveland with too many musical instruments, several large plants and no cats. My front door is purple. I collect dust, take up space and burn fossil fuel. I kayak, knit, hike, sing, canoe, write choral music and play hammered dulcimer, but not all at the same time. I read too much and don't write enough, but what's new?

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The world is ending again?

An engineer named Harold Camping has determined that the world will end this Saturday. I don’t recall if he has mentioned the exact time. (Neal Conan’s comment on NPR this afternoon was, “Drink the good wine.” I’m thinking we should pop those corks on Friday night just in case the world ends at Saturday morning.)

Camping has arrived at this through a Byzantine labyrinth of mathematical calculations that I clearly am not equipped to follow. It all somehow rests on the date of the flood  - not the one that’s in my backyard right now, but the one with Noah and the ark and the animals two by two – which he has pinpointed as occurring in 4990 BC.  (I don’t understand how he got that, either.) From there Camping cites Biblical references at every twist and turn, and ends up at May 21, 2011.

I’m tempted to toss a monkey wrench into this elaborate mechanism, like the irregularities of lunar months that Noah’s Daytimer would have reflected (we have to assume Noah was on the Hebrew calendar), or our switch here in the Colonies from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar in 1752.  But Camping’s an engineer. I’m sure he’s accounted for these kinds of things; engineers are so precise about everything.

So, here I am once again in the same old quandary – should I live as if this Friday is my last day on earth? (See the May 4 blog post for details re: first-class air travel, chocolate and kayaking.) And if I take him at his word and he’s mistaken? We’re left with the depressing consequences contemplated in that same post.

What to do, what to do? Surely not the dishes. Some would say I'll have to wrestle with this problem again in December 2012 when the Mayan calendar runs out, but if you ask me, they just got tired of all that chiseling and decided to let it ride until someone invented a copy machine. 


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