Good evening, Netizens...
I admit I took a “day off” today from the Blog, simply because I had been over-working this week and I simply wanted to sit and watch the NFL football playoffs. It was nice sitting in my recliner like the somewhat-aged doddering old goat I can become, uninterested in rehashing any of the local, national or international news in lieu of football. Since I was somewhat sleep-deprived due to an early-morning client phone call, I slept during the first game's halftime. I seldom like either their analysts nor the advertising, although I must say the really good advertising sometimes appears during Superbowl and thus may be worthwhile.
Cheryl-Anne Millsap just brought an old memory from early college days back to the forefront over on Facebook awhile ago during one of the few times this afternoon I checked various online places. She mentioned Thornton Wilder's Our Town, a delightful and emotionally-moving play in which I once played a minor role and also under-studied the role of the Stage Manager.
Emily: Good-bye to clocks ticking and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new ironed dresses and hot baths and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth,you are too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it--every,every minute?
Stage Manager: No. The saints and poets, maybe they do some.
Yes, and some hoary-headed old men who sit along the Boardwalk in the late afternoon on sunny days and talk about the good old days having realized their lives are comfortable to move on each minute of the day.