My wife uses a ‘swear’ sometimes. It’s gritty and always gets a response out of me. She times its execution deliberately, skillfully dropping the word in at just the right moment to send me spiraling in agony. Her word?

I think maybe that I wouldn’t even WANT to have too much spilled out, spelled out, spoiled for me. I don’t want to know when I’ll die or the cause of my death. I don’t even want to know what I’ll have for breakfast until that time has come.

I might be wise or strong or quick or handsome in a cave all by myself, but to trust or be trusted, well, I'd need a cave bear at any rate.

We expense energy and attention on technology, but we’ve been fixated on other things over time, from golden calves to hourglass figures. Wars have been fought over salt and silk…and oil.

The future may bring us to desperation over high fructose corn syrup, like in my novels, or, say, our most precious resources like water and sunlight.

Almost any night, I can take the ephemeral reigns of my dreams and guide the coursers where I wish. Thus, I am my own production studio.

There needs to be more what-iffing in this F-ing world. How are we supposed to create novelty if we don't think beyond our bounds?

What "what if" might you posit?

It has to do with the constant threat of being revealed to be less than advertised. The chink in my armor is leaving me naked. I am exposed. A fraud.

If ever my creativity were running dry, I’d go to an online generator or to ChatGPT to get the juices flowing again. Sometimes, honestly, I jog over there just for fun, for I seldom if ever have creativity problems.

That is what I’m rooting around for: those deep feelings I had with my all-consuming childhood pastimes.

Someone once asked former NFL quarterback, Kenny Stabler, what London’s quote meant to him. He replied, “Throw Deep!”

I have found my tribe.

• directed traffic

• have applauded at over 50 concerts

• have made beautiful music

• have made armpit farts

• are never idle

This was my first college object lesson, actually running my finger down the spines of those million books like they were a picket fence, from the top to the bottom floor. Prior to that, I had only a vague idea of what a million might really be.

I’ve done the list, many years now, of Things I’m Thankful For at Thanksgiving. Then I went to a daily 3 Thanks in my journal. I’ve strayed from it, recently, and so….this post!