Guilty.

I was sitting at Ladro yesterday, drinking my daily dose of espresso. There was an abandoned New York Times on one of the Adirondack chairs, so I started reading about the fighting in Israel and Lebanon. As I was relaxing in the calm paradise that is Seattle on an 85-degree summer day, me, my dogs, and a Yuppie-filled, gunfire-free street, I felt really, really guilty. How am I so lucky to be sitting here in the calm and quiet, able to go about my daily life where the closest thing to live violence I ever see is someone flipping me off because of road rage? We’re so sheltered and privileged in this country and I don’t think most of us even realize it. The disparity between our quality of life and that of the developing world is stark and amazing and I wonder how long it’s going to last. Who hasn’t heard of America being compared to Imperial Rome in the past few years?

I met a man from Lebanon at the Icograda conference last week, Halim, and I can’t stop thinking about how upset he must be right now. It makes me feel sad and helpless….