Vol. 3, Issue 16, June 21, 2005
The Joy of Liquid Shrimp!
SatireWire

Do Not Forget to Write, Sir!

Ezekiel F. Watley, Esq.

It has often been Said that Change is the fundamental characteristic of Life itself, that a static and stable world would be devoid of Meaning, not to mention Interest. This is not to Say, however, that change is always something to look forward to. (Unless one is referring to Ephram's clothing: those days when he Stirs himself to change into fresh and less Odiferous vestments, typically once a Week or so, are occasions for Joy indeed.)

Sadly, this change is less pleasant or Hygienic in nature: for a great friend to our humble Publication, who I have had occasion to Refer to Previously, has left for a distant land, steaming off to accept a Diplomatic post in Ceylon, I believe. This gentleman is that Rarest of specimens: a friend of Ephram's found worthy of admission to the rarified Club where I pass my afternoons. In the short few Years since I have made his Acquaintance, he has demonstrated a Remarkable flair for Darts (to old Mordecai Grunion's dismay, you may be Sure), a Singular ability to converse on matters both Abstruse and Edifying, and a collection of Hats and Walking-sticks to rival my Own. We have spent many long Hours pursuing abstract issues of Journalism, Morality, and Grammar in the Smoking Room, and I daresay he has quietly pointed our Publication in the direction of Several vital stories which might otherwise have gone Unreported.

It was perhaps Inevitable that such a singular man should soon acquire a Diplomatic post; not the Difficult sort with concrete barricades outside the embassy Gates, but the simpler and more Civilized sort where proper diplomacy is conducted in the Garden with a warm breeze and a fine China tea set no earlier than four in the Afternoon, leaving one's morning free for other Gentlemanly pursuits, such as Sleeping. Nonetheless our Club, not to mention my News-paper, are grievously lesser for the change.

Standing here on the dock as the last passengers board the Steam-boat, I cannot help but think of other good friends long since Departed, some to the great Beyond, some simply to lands where Telegraph offices are few and far between, some to defend the Honor of our country. In my many years I have seen not a Few such departures; regrettably, that does not make them Easier to endure.

There is a reason for this, I believe; namely, such events serve not only as occasions of separation, but of Reflection. They are milestones which rudely awaken us to the e'er-changing pace of our lives, causing us to Realize that time does not stand still for those who remain. It is all too easy to relax in the timeless comfort of my book-strewn Office, or the smoky confines of the Club, and feel a great sense of Stability. But the truth is, my beard is even Longer than it was two years ago, the lines on my Face a little Deeper. The beginning of a new voyage for One reminds us All that we ourselves are still traveling through our Lives, and that we have come Farther than we may realize.

Perhaps the others standing about me on the Dock, waving kerchiefs to their own departing friends and Family, will forgive an old Man who suddenly finds something in his Eye as the ship's horn sounds its departure with resonant finality. Farewell, friend.


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