Happiness. It's relative.
A gift-wrapped, autographed copy of Diana Nyad’s book Find A Way came in the mail today but I don’t know from whom. For a minute, I thought maybe I’d ordered it in some drunken haze but I quit that business a long time ago. Drunken glows,… Continue Reading “The Incredible Endurance of Grief”
A gift-wrapped, autographed copy of Diana Nyad’s book Find A Way came in the mail today but I don’t know from whom. For a minute, I thought maybe I’d ordered it in some drunken haze but I quit that business a long time ago. Drunken glows,… Continue Reading “The Incredible Endurance of Grief”
I wonder what she thinks about stroke after stroke. She’s told people she has a 60-hour playlist in her head of favorite tunes from ‘her generation.’ Being of her generation, I wonder what’s on the list – Stones or Beatles, Motown or Beachboys? She’s… Continue Reading “Swimmer Girl”
I am not to be pitied. In a swimming pool or anywhere else. Because when I strap on one swim fin, I can probably beat your young ass in a 25. Well, that’s probably only partly true. It is true that I can beat a… Continue Reading “I Wish I Could Do A Flip Turn”
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