Occasionally, certain things rattle around in my head and I’m unable to dislodge them. Generally, the more esoteric the information, the more difficult it is to forget about it. Thus, I can quote movie lines for days on end but can’t remember what I did two hours ago.
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Not too long ago, one of my esteemed colleagues, wrote a piece decrying the loss of civility, especially in the realm of public discourses. I couldn’t agree with him more.
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“I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.” These days, I find myself not wanting to sum up parts of my life in the doggerel of ’60s folk rock. Yet sitting in an ancient blue shoe box sits a packet of letters, cards, notes from years I tend to relegate, like the box itself, to some corner shelf of the closet of my mind.
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Don’t ever try to give a cat a bath. That’s just friendly advice. One would think anyone over the age, or IQ, of 3 would know this. My sister, who is brilliant, beautiful, athletic, the works, at one point didn’t. Of course, she was probably only about 16 at the time.
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