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Thanks, Bob, but I lost my best friend when I was 14. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten over it.

From then on, Death has dogged me, but never claimed me. There is no “reason” why...it just “IS!”

Dangit! MATH?

I seem to have no desire to retire.

Wait.

“Show me the way to my habitual abode,
I’m fatigued and desire to retire!
I Had a stimulation ‘bout an hour ago,
and it went right to my cerebellum.
Wherever I may ambulate,
Wherever I may roam.
You can can always hear me
singing this melody,
Show me the way to my habitual abode.

I sang this with my friend Eloise on the schoolbus...

The counter-melody was simply the ditty...Show me the way to go home!...

Show me the way to my abode

I'm fatigued and I wish to retire

Had an alcoholic beverage 60 minutes ago

And it went right to my cerebellum

Wherever I may perambulate

O'er land, sea or atmospheric precipitation....

Dad lived till age 87 and he fought from about 86 for every day he had. Dad wanted to live till he was 110. Dad was and is my inspiration. Mom is living and Mom is a great lady. Being the great lady you are ... you should live as long as my Mom. It is only proper. I’ll not tell her age. A lady does not like to tell her age nor have it told or at least that is what Mom says, and who am I to argue with Mom? Mom still rules the house. Always did ... always will. Mom are wiser than all the angels of Heaven. Moms will go where angels fear to tread, if that Mom is a great Mom. I believe you are a great Mom just like my Mom. I doubt you fear treading where an angel would not set foot. To tell the truth ... I know it. Now don’t ask me how I know what am typing. Can’t tell you. It’s classified.

"Wait."

Oh, yes. Waiting is.

That's what Valentine Michael Smith, the Man From Mars, said, in "Stranger In A Strange Land".

Waiting is.

But Today

I’m worried about next week,
When some debts are coming due,
And concerns about my family’s health,
Are constantly in view.

But today, the sun is shining,
And my heart is quite at peace,
For the moment, at this instance,
I’m not looking for surcease.

I have some years behind me,
And more yet still ahead,
But on the whole they pleased me,
More than filling me with dread.

For today, the birds spread wings of joy,
To embrace the world “this much”,
Just as do I, in reaching out,
To keep my heart in touch.

In the distant future, when I as memory,
Will haunt the hills and hollows,
Of a changed vicinity,
Then my touch will be as follows:

Folk will be seeing rainbows,
Or singing birds in flight,
And sometimes thoughts of mine,
Will then intrude upon their sight.

For tomorrow will be coming,
While I wend another way,
And my focus will not be with things,
That may be coming, but today.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . March 1, 2008