The Trailing Edge

“ Hey, look! Windmills," shouted Emily as she bounced up and down in her seat and pointed out the bus window. The Eiger family, Winston, Jennifer, and their young daughter Emily, were touring the Midlands. The tour bus arrived at Windmill Alley, so named by the Tourist Board since it was a mile long row of medieval windmills straddling the Ghrent Canal. The tour was a multi-cultural program sponsored by the Ministry of Magic. Impressed with the view, Jennifer turned to her daughter, "Can you tell me why non-magical people built windmills?" Emily scrunched her face and after a moment, shook her head, "no Mommy." "Well, it gets very hot here in the summer and in the ancient times, there was no air conditioning. So the non-magical people living here built windmills to cool the farmers working in the fields. Windmills are giant fans," said Jennifer, nodding and thinking of her Non-Magical-People Anthropology training. "Wow," replie...

                        I recently recalled an incident that took place a couple of decades ago. I was out to brunch with my friend Christopher, his wife Kristi, and their very young son Casey. It was a routine meal, until we became aware of a commotion across the room. Apparently, another patron had experienced a health crisis, quite possibly a heart attack. There was no outcry, but as is typical in such situations, a crowd gathered around the table. Someone was on the floor; someone else was trying to render aid, and someone called 911. We stayed put, not wanting to get in the way and knowing there was nothing we could contribute to the situation anyway. But after a few minutes, Christopher picked up Casey (very young, as I said -- probably no more than one and a half, just barely vocal, much less verbal) and said "I'm taking him outside. He doesn't need to see this." He stayed outside the restaurant with Casey as the ...