This is not at all to bitch about doing this because a gift ain't worth nothin' if you tell anyone what it cost.
Some things are worthy of comment, tho.
What kind of a loon puts a serious uphill walk to get into a hospital. My comment to Yevette was, "The only way they could have made this any harder would have been to put in a moat and fill it with fucking alligators!"
The hospital is Baylor in Fort Worth and we hiked and hiked to find the place so that needed another remark, "They built this place like a fucking airport!"
Note: she's not offended by language and throws it as much as I.
Oh, and what's the first move after leaving a hospital?
Note: if it ain't wash your hands, start over. Don't EVEN bring anything back from a hospital with you.
There's a point beyond, oh, my achin' ass, since Yevette asked when we got back, "What's the use of all this learning if we just die?"
Dying isn't the point of it; dying is only the end of it. What we do with that knowledge while we're alive is what counts and what makes it worthwhile. Your capability changes through time and the strength remaining to me, also with her, is to write. Whatever I've learned comes out through that and a whole lot of people read it; many people read her Tweets in the same way since they know the type of material she presents and she doesn't try to play any games with mirrors.
It's so important to get it that every moment is live or you just threw it away. That's a something of existentialism but it acquires a greater poignance through imminence. It's a time for melancholy reflection, as you will, but that likely won't give much back. There's another way.
Ed: is this a launch into the Theory of Propagated Goodness?
It sure enough is (larfs).
The Theory is a simple thing in the thinking all the goodness you give away will come back in some kind of a way even if it's so circuitous it doesn't seem to make any sense at all.
Ed: who came up with the Theory?
Well ... Silas (larfs).
Ed: isn't it just restating Eastern philosophy?
Only the good parts.
The Silas parable on this one was about stopping to help a woman and her young daughter by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere down in Louisiana. I helped her and I thought it would be so gallant to do it in silence and split. So I did.
Years later, something similar happened with my ol' Mother and someone did essentially the same thing.
This may have been flipped in my head since I didn't really review the parable for the time signature as my little stunt happened in 1970. It seems nearly impossible for my mother's predicament to have followed that so it may be I got the idea from it.
Ed: the Theory still worked
It certainly did. It was just going the other way and who knows which way it went after that but eventually the circle closes.
Ed: does that really matter?
Not a bit.
Some things are worthy of comment, tho.
What kind of a loon puts a serious uphill walk to get into a hospital. My comment to Yevette was, "The only way they could have made this any harder would have been to put in a moat and fill it with fucking alligators!"
The hospital is Baylor in Fort Worth and we hiked and hiked to find the place so that needed another remark, "They built this place like a fucking airport!"
Note: she's not offended by language and throws it as much as I.
Oh, and what's the first move after leaving a hospital?
Note: if it ain't wash your hands, start over. Don't EVEN bring anything back from a hospital with you.
There's a point beyond, oh, my achin' ass, since Yevette asked when we got back, "What's the use of all this learning if we just die?"
Dying isn't the point of it; dying is only the end of it. What we do with that knowledge while we're alive is what counts and what makes it worthwhile. Your capability changes through time and the strength remaining to me, also with her, is to write. Whatever I've learned comes out through that and a whole lot of people read it; many people read her Tweets in the same way since they know the type of material she presents and she doesn't try to play any games with mirrors.
It's so important to get it that every moment is live or you just threw it away. That's a something of existentialism but it acquires a greater poignance through imminence. It's a time for melancholy reflection, as you will, but that likely won't give much back. There's another way.
Ed: is this a launch into the Theory of Propagated Goodness?
It sure enough is (larfs).
The Theory is a simple thing in the thinking all the goodness you give away will come back in some kind of a way even if it's so circuitous it doesn't seem to make any sense at all.
Ed: who came up with the Theory?
Well ... Silas (larfs).
Ed: isn't it just restating Eastern philosophy?
Only the good parts.
The Silas parable on this one was about stopping to help a woman and her young daughter by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere down in Louisiana. I helped her and I thought it would be so gallant to do it in silence and split. So I did.
Years later, something similar happened with my ol' Mother and someone did essentially the same thing.
This may have been flipped in my head since I didn't really review the parable for the time signature as my little stunt happened in 1970. It seems nearly impossible for my mother's predicament to have followed that so it may be I got the idea from it.
Ed: the Theory still worked
It certainly did. It was just going the other way and who knows which way it went after that but eventually the circle closes.
Ed: does that really matter?
Not a bit.
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