Flashback — I’m one of a four-member crew for the Wareham (Massachusetts) Park Department a summer after my high school graduation. It’s pouring down rain and we are in the little shack on the other side of town from the main building, a daily respite place.The superintendent (Billy), who walks around like he has a large stick up his butt, comes in through the door and asks Frank, my boss, “What are you doing in here?” Frank says, “It’s pouring down rain.” Billy says, “What about the rain gear?” To which Frank asnwers, to his boss, “Fuck the rain gear.”
This conversation taking place sometime between 1967 and 1973 has always stayed with me, now more than 50 years later. “What’s right?” It’s always felt like that. “What’s right?” In this very situation, at this very time. “What’s right?”
It’s a good question.
from a mountain bench 
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