"Wenceslas! Good King Wenceslas! You look out on the Feast of Stephen . . . OUT! Around, See what's happening! Jesus, you're as thick as a bull's Walt, your majesty!"
Things change for the better, except in government and popular music. Most people are much nicer to one another. Certainly the evolved cuisine beats the blue-plate special offerings of forty and fifty years ago. Domestic thermostatic climate control is superior especially in summer months. I no longer need to sleep with my feet hanging out a window over the gangway in July and August.
Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana. Well who don't? If Heraclitus has it right there is no constant but flux. My hair and its absence in certain precincts of my noggin are pretty good indicators of this verity. I ain't no kid. I can still ascend the four floors of Leo High School without the aid of an oxygen mask full of natural gas on each landing and I am yet able to two-step like a self conscious Fred Astair; nevertheless, I am not the Steve Stunning of yore. Ecclesiastes 3, 1-8
I try to make my thoughts words and deeds appropriate to the occasion and fight my more juvenile impulses with . . .well that is not entirely true. I behave only when threatened. Somethings never change, Heraclitus. I confess my short comings and human limitations in order to off set any possibility of actually putting forth a huge effort. Kind of like when the Leo Maintenance Chief Ron asked me if I'd like to help unload fifty bags of sidewalk salt - " Gee, yes, Ron! As soon as I finish mailing both of my thumbs to the Saudi Royals. Let me know where you guys are!" I know WHAT TIME IT IS!
It's time for the Hollywood Argyles!