I spent this past weekend in Memphis to play a little golf with a friend there. I drove down Friday evening and we played Saturday and Sunday. I hooked up with my golfing buddy Saturday morning at his house. Because we were going to take his vehicle to the golf course I was rummaging around in my truck, getting out golf clubs, shoes, etc. This is when I discovered my bicycle helmet in the backseat, triggering an idea for a little fun.
Before I went into his house I put the helmet on my pointy little head. I then walked around inside his house for a good 3 or 4 minutes without my buddy, his wife, their son or a visiting aunt saying a word, asking me why I had on the bicycle helmet. I was waiting for the question, “Why are you wearing that helmet?” I was going to answer, “Because I have been golfing with Steve before!” – Ba-dum-tssss – I finally asked, “Is anyone wondering why I have on the bicycle helmet?” Apparently they were not, perhaps they were practicing good manners by ignoring a faux pas by a guest. I gave them my punch line anyway… tough crowd, at least they did not pelt me with rotten tomatoes.
Either I need to get a new set of comedy writers or dive deeply, searching my twisted, troubled, tortured, tragic, traumatized, tail-spinning ghost of a soul on how the world perceives it and me… or both.
And so it goes.



The beginning of last week Señora became very ill. We thought she was having an attack of sinusitis or possibly the flu. A few days into it, she lost her sense of taste. Despite having had both doses of the Moderna vaccine, she tested positive for COVID. After a miserable weekend she had the infusion treatment Monday, and she is improving. She remains very fatigued and is still missing the flavor of food.