that certain age

it strikes me that when nice men without obvious vices reach a certain age they all start to like talking about wine watches and good food. 

requiem for a '

mark my words. the apostrophe, the placement of which has marked the grammar literate from the rest, is going the way of the dodo. with smartphone qwerty keyboards putting the punctuation marks on the second screen and with no quick shortcut to summon it, it no longer features in my otherwise fully spelled out texts. from there, the ease of dropping it is now insidiously infecting my real keyboard work too.

soon, this genteel little mark, established over lifetimes of conditioning, will feature mostly as a curiosity, with various  cameo appearances at odd and unexpected spots. its coming. and theres no stopping it.

good day 2

today at work a member of the public accosts me and asks, you are from the other place, are you not? she is my old regular, from another place, another time, at a new place now, and she recognizes me. she remembers that i went away. she remembers that J and J were young. she remembers me with fond memories.

eight years are a long time to remember, i think. it humbles me to realize that God pleases, out of his great kindness, to establish the work of my hands, and to allow me glimpses of his goodness to gladden my day. 

good day

today on the public bus i give my seat to an older gentleman. and almost immediately a younger gentleman stands to offer me his. 'tis warmth to the cockles of me 'eart.

many happy returns

when you hit past the half century mark, birthdays get a bit tired. this year, i tell HOM his best gift to himself was the day off he took on his special day, during which he finally MANAGED TO FILE HIS TAX RETURNS.