I often wonder when I thank God for my wife of 46 years whether I should make another effort to read James Joyce's Ulysses. Why? Because this is the anniversary of the day we "plighted our troth." Yes, my children, we were so traditional in those days so long ago that we used words like that because they were in the Lutheran Book of Worship of those days. It didn't matter whether we understood what we were doing, other than we were committing to each other forever, come hell or high water.
All I really know about Ulysses is that it is a modern novel in which all the action takes place on June 16, 1904. Now this might be enough to survive a cocktail party, amongst my friends anyway, but the concept of a bucket list keeps popping into my mind as time goes by at an increasing velocity.
I know there is a road race in Spokane that I once thought had something to do with the blooming of lilacs takes place on the first Sunday in May but the organizer says somewhere that "a road race is an odyssey (like the one referred to in Ulysses) and ordinary people are involved in heroic journeys every day of their lives." Now, if a road-race organizer is familiar with the works of James Joyce I wonder if the rest of us should pay attention as well.
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