I won’t be writing for a while. I’m in Christmas and editing modes now, and that’s all I’ll be doing until my books are published. I’ve also been lounging on the couch, not feeling very well, nursing a bellyache, and catching up on the news.
North Korea is busy with rockets, Romney had lunch with Obama, people are being taken out all over the place. Kim Kardashian pissed off Bahrain. That Kris Humphries guy is still holding out for an annulment. Actually, the one time I did see him on TV, I got the distinct impression that he was a rather large tool, and his current oafishness just confirms it. Lindsay’s quaffing two litres of Vodka a day. Wow, girl! Nothing new there then.
There were only two things that I spotted that caught my interest. Larry Hagman thought that death would feel like an LSD trip, and was quite looking forward to the journey. I hope he got his wish, if that’s really what he wanted. He seemed like a nice guy. I don’t think that I would like to head off to the afterlife feeling stoned though. Who knows who you’re going to meet on the other side? Looking back at my life, I imagine that I’m going to need all my wits about me, and will probably have to duck a lot. I used to be very interested in death when I was younger. I had lost both of my parents by the time I was eighteen, themselves being very young when they died. My father of an aneurism in his early thirties, and my mother lost a horrendous three year battle with cancer in her forties. My younger self’s obsession with dying was mainly about not wanting to do it.
Now that I’m older, I can understand why dealing with that kind of trauma before you’ve properly exited your teens can send you over the edge a little. I’ve got over that now. I’m not worried about dying young anymore. I definitely see a wrinkly, stick-wielding old meanie in my own personal future. And when it’s time, it’s time. I’m not worried about the how will it happen, or the what happens afterwards, any more. I’m more concerned with those that I’ll leave behind. I’ve left instructions that they are to scatter my ashes from a hot air balloon, while quaffing. This will hopefully make the whole thing a little less nasty for them, and also have my newly disembodied self smiling, as my dusty remains spread around, and settle gently into the tall cool drinks of those below.
The best and biggest news for me, was the New York cop who bought boots for a barefoot panhandler. With all the bad news around, these small acts of kindness seldom make it to the top stories. If I’m not mistaken, policemen don’t earn a lot of money, and the fact that he actually took himself off to a shop, bought the man a new pair of boots with his own hard earned cash, and then took them back to him, is nothing less than awe inspiring. It’s just fantastic to know that that man is on the planet. He didn’t do it to become a hero. He didn’t know that anyone would snap a picture. He was just being the clearly fantastic guy that he is. But he is a hero, photo or not. He’s my hero certainly. Love to you Larry DePrimo! And also to all those other heroes, who’s small or not so small acts of kindness we don’t get to see. That’s what it’s all about!
Till next time friends. Xxxx