My son, when reaching a dead end for him in conversation, resorts to asking, "Just one more question, who invented the sock-heads?" Bugs me to no end, but that's the joke. Who invented the sock-heads?
Similarly, one must learn to stop thinking about what will happen and go address something more urgent, like what do I want for dinner? Or who do I want to look at after dinner? Or what activity would be most useful for my investment of time? Exigencies. My son teaches me that day to day; he doesn't preach, he just enjoys bugging me to no end. And that is the source for God's law: enjoy yourself, and you win. Be good at what you do, because your President asks you to, America. Yada bee-effing blah. You get the idea, or you should, and if you do not, go bug somebody else, because I'm just tired of you and your stupid clestions. I'm not your mommy nor am I your pops. Fernandez [not bad! check her out!]. On baseball, real actual baseball: I'm not physically gifted enough to actually play with the big boys. I had the hand-eye coordination, but not the strength or stamina, and my mind wanders to other things. Plus Mel Carter totally dropped my pants with a curveball. My only consolation is that the umpire was fooled by it even worse than I was, at the knees and hittable, very sharp break at the end . . .
