She crossed a lot of people
Some she called friends
She thought she'd live forever
But forever always ends

"Did She Jump or Was She Pushed?"
Richard and Linda Thompson

Been in one of those kinda unsettled funks of late, the sorta thing that plenty of folks seem to be sharing. Monday afternoon I was out running errands. Thought I was, anyway, until a particular disc dropped into my car's CD changer. Shoot Out the Lights, Richard and Linda Thompson. To call it an examination of the decidedly meaner side of life is an understatement. The most pleasant song is the first, titled "Don't Renege on Our Love." Of course, the ironic hindsight is that Richard left Linda (his wife at the time) not long after the release of this album, making that song all the more arresting.

So anyway, once Richard's intricately churning guitar and Linda's lithely sinewy voice began to shake my car, I realized that errands could be put off. Must be put off. I reached down, turned up the stereo and kept driving north into the increasingly rare "rural" sections of Durham County. I use quotation marks because while there are a few farms and all, housing developments can be found in every corner and even stretch into neighboring counties. Still, I found myself on an official "scenic route" that cut west from U.S. 15-501. Got to enjoy my car on a road that swerved and dipped through the eastern fringe of the Carolina Piedmont. Creeks, forests, farms and, yes, isolated clusters of half-million-dollar homes. Helped to ease my mind, it surely did.

Seeing all that green land reminded me that the United States has plenty of resources in reserve. I'm not suggesting that we continue felling mountains in West Virginia to scrounge a wee bit more coal for the Duke Power generating plants. I was thinking more of the resources of our people. And the powerful renewal a person can receive from just a little blast of nature. Maybe only China has as many different kinds of beautiful vistas as our country. If I get in my car and drive for three hours, I can be at the beach, in the mountains or on any number of great lowland rivers. And that's just one of the fifty states.

Very early Wednesday morning a loud screech and crash woke up my neighborhood. Some kid had been driving a stolen Jeep wagon at 60 or more when he realized he was about to run out of street (this--both the stolen car and the abruptly-ending street--happens a lot in Durham). He smashed into my neighbors' car, spinning the unfortunate Honda completely around and down a hill toward my neighbors' house.

These particular neighbors had a son three weeks ago, an astonishingly active little critter named Alexander. I've had the privilege to watch him for a little while, and the kid has some seriously active legs. Kicks like you wouldn't believe. His lungs aren't too shabby, either. He can howl when he wants the noise didn't bother him. He was awake in his mother's arms when we wandered out with the rest of the neighborhood to check out the commotion. He grabbed my wife Barbara's finger and played with it while his mom and dad talked to the myriad cops on the scene (guess they didn't have much else to do). Never once did he howl. He was just chillin', enjoying a typically warm later summer North Carolina night. The time of year when folks realize this is the reason they like living here. North Carolina's springs last from mid-March to the end of May (and into June, if we're lucky), and autumn begins sometime in early October, with highs remaining in the 60s and 70s well into November. It's not uncommon to enjoy a foggy December's evening walk with no more than shirt sleeves.

Three weeks in this world, and the boy already has learned an important lesson. Two, really. The first is to always appreciate good weather when you get it, especially at the end of a typically hot and humid August and early September. The second, of course, is not to worry about things you can't control. The kid driving the stolen car jumped out of the wreckage and ran off. Insurance would take care of Alexander's parents' car. He still had a bed to sleep in, ready food when he needed it.

Watching young Alexander early Wednesday morning, I began to realize that the entire world is not out of kilter, that life will return to normal. It's beginning already.

Stupid kids are out stealing cars once again. It's a small step, to be sure, but nonetheless a step back toward the America we all know and love.

Jon Worley's theory of impending normality took a hit on Saturday when a decidedly mediocre Carolina team stomped Florida State 41-9.