Tyche is the Greek goddess of fate. She has reminded me that while fate may belong to another, how we behave in the face of her gifts and onslaughts is our own.
These days are showing us things that we have not yet seen. LOVS has been incredibly fortunate in that we have always worked out of our respective homes and thus have been “virtual” since inception. (I tell people that we are actually holograms. Who could prove otherwise?)
We are pioneers of the virtual law office. We are comfortable in this new world and are able to navigate it with grace, alacrity and effectiveness.
But today, being nimble is the thing. Our world is sliding beneath us and we need to navigate it as it shifts, with aplomb and humor. And food, and perhaps wine.
So, here is my “nimble” story for tonight. It originates with Tom Robbins in one of his earlier books, Still Life with Woodpecker or Even Cowgirls get the Blues or my favorite, Jitterbug Perfume. I read those books many times in the long-ago years but now cannot recall which contained the germ of this life-changing story. But I recall the story. And I have made it my own. Forgive me, but take the lesson.
Once there was a man who loved apple pie. He loved apple pie so much he went to apple pie contests all over his state, and then the nation, and then even as far as Germany and Indonesia and the Baltic. He coveted the finest recipe for apple pie and paid many connoisseurs handsomely for their insights and advice and directions to this exquisite apple pie. Awash in these heady circles, he finally caught wind of the most pristine and unique apple pie ever baked: an apple pie that was both otherworldly, delicious, and that evoked thoughts of childhood, warm households and kind grandmothers. The man was smitten and determined to locate that revered apple pie.
The man pursued the esteemed apple pie to the literal ends of the earth. He went to Nepal and climbed mountains and finally located the likely spot of the insightful grandmother who allegedly baked this venerated apple pie. She was located on a high mountain in a remote village. He waited until spring and then climbed the mountain at the first thaw. He knew he was close to achieving his goal: the elusive apple pie that he sought all his life.
He arrived at the top of the mountain. He encountered the Grandmother, and, gasping from his climb, told her that he had climbed mountains in search of a taste of her renowned apple pie. She looked at him pityingly, and said, “We’re all out of apple.”
He looked back at her. He shrugged. He said, “Make it peach.”
-Virginia Sudbury