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Oops, pardon my math. Ugh!

Sorry 'bout that. Damn this flu! Argh... it just will NOT move on to the next sucker.

Anyway, WRT to meteorites, I've seen prices all over the place, some going for nosebleed pricing for milligrams, so that 62 grand could have been quite a conservative figure. I'll never know, though, and I try not to think about it too much. Basically, it was the keystone (pun intended) for six years of my life that, well... let's just say that when you marry a schizophrenic, your life will be very interesting. (I did not know she'd been diagnosed as such until a few years into the excursion, and before it was over, she was convinced I was a homosexual and a child molester. Why? Because "the voices" told her -- and what possible reason would they have to lie about it? Therefore, my denials were merely lies.) She was a very unhappy person and there wasn't anything I could do about it. After she left me (after dragging my life into a swirl of chaos -- the business was in her name, and she "ran" it -- into the ground -- she didn't pay any bills, just shoved 'em into a file drawer -- not in folders, just tossed the unopened envelopes into the drawer, along with scads of lottery tickets) -- after she left, it all imploded on me, and I had quite a rough go of trying to close things down gracefully. Didn't really have any option, with the way she'd left it. Anyhow, after she left, she married a guy who seemed to be just as nutty as her, if not moreso -- and then she died of cancer. This hit me really hard, and I tried to get the message to her via her relatives that I harbored no grudge, wanted to visit to pray for her, but that just freaked her out even more -- they (she and nut-husband) were convinced that I was spending my life 24/7 plotting against them and so forth. For all I know she may very well have thought that I caused the cancer. I wouldn't put it past "the voices" to tell her that. So, when I made that offer, it was not very well received, to put it mildly. When I got word that she'd died, it tore me up real bad. Life can be difficult.

But, I digress -- and when I consider the probability that nut-husband tossed "that stupid old rock" into a ditch... ah, well. Gotta maintain a sense of humor. Or something.