The great funk escape


Yeah, right.  Like sour milk. Not that I’m in a funk – not at all.  In fact, I’m in a good space and have been for days since the weatherman promised cooler fallish temperatures this week.

They arrived this morning and I pulled on my walking shoes for the first time since 2013 and set out for a walk.  I even took my walking pole (to look like a purposeful walker). It was still dark so I didn’t bother to primp-up which also insured no bad guys would try to attack – they would likely run the opposite direction..

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Figuring out what it’s all about


It has occurred to me over the last several weeks that I have a large case of arrested development.  I simply don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.  Once again, Netflix to the rescue!

Let me explain.  Over my eight-week incarceration ( the sentence was to eight weeks of extreme boredom for the crime of wearing stilts most of my life), I watched a lot of Netflix since I couldn’t do much else but beg my friends to make Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup runs to Fred’s from time to time.

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Alphabet soup causes indigestion


There is a trend I see brewing in the business world which has become irritating,  if not downright confusing.  As an editor for the past few months I had an opportunity to nip this annoying  habit in the bud, but I failed miserably.  Like a tick, acronyms seem to have burrowed in and won’t budge without more  radical action than I could provide.

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Protesting this ‘senior’ thing

the_glass_is_too_big_journalIs my glass half empty or half full? Sometimes the glass is just too blamed big…or like in my case it has a slow leak.

Thinking about that leak, I am organizing a protest for the flagrant insults I see spreading around the country with regard to senior citizen status. First of all, I don’t like being called a senior. I was a senior a half century ago at West Point High School and there’s no relationship whatsoever.

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