Friday, August 18, 2006

Zipper Blooper

Crazy Train (of thought)

Linley tells me she’s discovered a cure for dying of old age – dying young instead. I think I’d rather live to 90.

As I walked to the car yesterday morning I heard Jill clapping enthusiastically and shriek with joy, “Princess, you did it!” Honey, it was a biological function. She’s required to do it.

What does compulsive behavior look like? This This This This This This This This This This This This This This This
This This This This This This This This This This This This.

Laura and I have promised each other we won’t go to the new Whole Foods down the street until we can go together. Does that make us second-best friends (spouses come first) or organic nerds?

He who muddles in another man’s house soon stands in his own quagmire.

Those who think they are the center of the universe obviously dropped out of school before taking science.

How many now feel guilt for condemning Patsy Ramsey? It just goes to show you, you never really know as much as you think you do.

Another charity we support is the Georgia Vietnam Veterans of America. My deceased uncle was a ‘Nam vet. He stood every time he heard the Star Spangled Banner, even if on television. That’s patriotism. Our donations are made in his honor. Go Army.

Marital Bliss

I get daily email and text-messages from my wife, with the occasional phone call, to let me know she loves me. How sweet is that, to know every day your wife is devoted to you. It makes me want to work hard to please her, but hard is the wrong word. I find great pleasure in pleasing her; she is the love of my life. Right now I’m reminded of the great Marty Robbins song, My Woman, My Woman, My Wife. “She's the foundation I lean on … the love that strengthens my life … Lord, give her my share of heaven, if I've earned any here in this life, 'cause God I believe she deserves it, my woman, my woman, my wife.” I’ll do anything to bring a smile to her face. I hope she likes the jeweled heart-shaped limoge I left on her dresser.


Meagan and I were having a few tense words when I stopped and said “It must suck to be so much like me.” We both laughed so hard we cried, then kissed and hugged, and all was well. I didn’t understand why I act like I do until I was in my late 30’s. Meagan, in contrast, is well on her way to having a solid grasp on who she is. It gives me hope she’ll be a better person than her old man is. That’s what parents want, isn’t it, to see their children become better people than they are themselves? If not, I would argue that parent isn’t the parent he/she should be. If Meagan ends up being just like me, I’ll have failed her. This is why I pray for guidance. And wisdom. And understanding.

Book Report

I’m thinking about writing a memoir, something that highlights my folly, like how I read the medical literature and understand that certain foods and vitamins, all of which I eat or take, thwart cognitive diseases, how learning new things all your life sharpens the mind, etc, and yet I still look down now and then and realize I didn’t zip my pants.

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