Sumerland

Ming was telling me...someone mentioned to him that Summerlin is actually Sumerland.  Summerlin is the rich part of town, here in Las Vegas.  But someone was saying it was named after ancient Sumer.

"Who was it?" I asked.  He couldn't remember.

"That would actually be cool," I said.  "We could go to Sumerland to worship Inanna, swim in the Tigris and Euphrates, and learn cuneiform.  We could go to the underworld and come back."

A special quirk about Ming is his strange relationship with reality.  "Why did you do such and such?" I'll ask, and rather than remembering and answering the question, he'll come up with some plausible ideas and list them as options with no regard to the actual reason.

It's like he thinks things just happen, and if we want to explain them, your guess is as good as mine.

"Rather than thinking of the real reason for something, you just come up with something plausible," I told him this morning.

"What's the difference?" he asked.

"See, that's the problem," I said.

"I'll work on that," he said.

I'm the kind of person who believes in reality and needs to find it.  Maybe I'm naive.

This morning Ming's cellphone alarm was going off at 4.  I woke up and he was not waking up, so I woke him up to turn it off.  I think it had been going off for a long time.

This morning I was feeling grateful for my body.  It has its problems, but it does many good things.  I was lying in bed, feeling gratefulness, as the sun came up.