Once when we were visiting Pittsburgh, we had the pleasure of attending a Stephen Foster festival at the cemetery where he is buried. While there, we heard the group Home Front, and bought their CD, Parlor to Campfire. It was somewhat amusing (better to laugh than to cry) to hear our stereo system, which randomly plays tracks from a rather large collection of music, wail forth with Hard Times Come Again No More—right after I had sneaked a look at the rapidly plunging (again! still!) stock market.
As I said to the clerk at the post office—in response to his, "What? You're here again?"—I'm doing my part to support the economy. The world is apparently falling down around me, yet life goes on as usual. I think that's not an unreasonable attitude at the moment, but I also sometimes wonder if there's not a bit of Madame Ranevskaya in me.
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