Once again, it comes around. Another year, and I’m still of this earth.
Perhaps in the short time leading up to the dual anniversary of the obliteration of Nagasaki and my own noisy entrance into the world I will a) update FotoFeed and b) complete another GRACK!, as well as tend to my Web clients. I’ve been quite distracted by apocalyptic lunacy (whose effect is readily visible at the gas pump) as well as the kind of internal shifting that one is only vaguely aware of as it’s going on, but later experiences as if an entirely different person has awakened in his bed.
That’s a good thing, obviously.
And it should serve notice to anyone younger whose eyes glaze over at the sight of gray hair and wrinkles that within each less-than-perfect aging body may be a spiritual volcano. Does a 20-year-old understand death? Does a 30-year old feel anything but a slight unease? Does a 40-year-old have any inkling that he’s just a babe in the woods? Does a 50-year-old realize that future retirement is only a marketing scam having no bearing on his innermost needs? And does a 60-year-old know he’s barely begun to live?
[Adjust questions as necessary based on current status, and beware the unseen gravitational pull of conventional wisdom, which is anything but...]
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