Friday, July 19, 2002

As the feet hit the floor, and I head out the door...

• My best friend is in Chicago this week visiting family, and is missed here at home.

• My son is caught up in the throes of adolescence, made worse by his being the product of what we used to know in polite company as "a broken home." (St John Bosco, where are you when I need you?)

• I have a memorial service to attend this Sunday, to honor a man whom I did not know for very long, and the likes of whom I shall not see again (see entry for this past Wednesday).

• Several thousand people with a lot of time on their hands will meet in Boston this weekend, to discuss matters about which they know little, and about which they can do even less.

• I haven't danced much in the past week or more, and the deficit is starting to show. I'm checking out various options as this goes to press. I might even settle for swing dancing. In my humble experience, the jitterbug scene is one of those where, if you go to a decent event of said genre, you are having to deal with the real die-hards who take it sooooo seriously, and dancing is something I never take seriously! So I might just wait for zydeco on Saturday and Sunday nights. At least then I'm in my element.

"But it's a five o'clock world when the whistle blows, no one owns a piece of my time..."

We'll see what happens, eh?

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