I just spent a long time writing my first blog post in a while where I ranted for about 1500 words, and the words were flying from my fingertips like flies from a hog farm. The prose was pure genius as I lambasted my target. Then, I got 3/5ths of the way through a brilliant closing paragraph when I stopped and re-read what I’d just written, and it hit me… Dammit, Robbie! You’re being an old jackass and you don’t need to let everybody else know that.
I just ran across a quote by Walt Whitman that made my record player skip a few bars:
We were together. I forget the rest.
My gyro is acting a little bit wonky right now.
This morning, at the best church in a 250-mile radius, my super groovy priest, Father Chuck, announced my MDA event that’s coming up at the end of next month after so graciously offering to last week. (Humorous side note: He officiated my marriage and spilled the communion wine in his car on the way to the ceremony.) Continue reading