Periodically, I am seized with the notion of getting a dog. It’s not that I really want a dog so much as I want to get a dog. I enjoy the process of getting--just about anything.

I forgot the eau de parfum Little Boy in Summer. Good lord! They truly emit noxious, green clouds. At this very moment I have one showered and deodorized asleep on the sofa while his clothes are airing out on the balcony. It was an unplanned sleepover so I make allowances.

Blinkers and Dumpsters

It was an insightful week. I know. I know. Listening to insights that aren’t yours is right alongside listening to the religious experience or latest interesting dream of someone else. Each is sufficient to putting one in a state of catatonic boredom.

I saw a recent photograph of myself. I looked old and bitter. Can't do anything about getting older, except die soon, and I don't care to exercise that option at this time. But I sure can do something about being bitter. So I did. After 37 years of marriage, I got a divorce.

And then I woke up and found myself in a second floor apartment, charming inside. Outside looks like a Motel Six.