I trudge through life with only the lowest expectations of people, places, and events.  And so…Friday I saw an Asian street musician playing a one stringed instrument.  His music was hauntingly dreamy, but I was too busy to stop and listen.  Few things in life trump unexpected, unhyped beauty, and yet I let the moment slip away, unseized.  These regrets haunt me for years.  Eleven years ago, I was strolling through a Parisian market.  A man/woman duo were playing exotic instruments, singing in Russian.  The music was among the most passionate I’ve ever heard.  A woman stood nearby listening, tears pouring down her face.  My friend grabbed me, and in the harshest, most scornful Chicago accent said, “I guess she’s touched…Come on, let’s go”.  And so I continued walking.

Unrelated, but…Since going yella, I’ve been wearing the same shirt every other day.  It says “School House Rock” on the front, and some crap about Conjunction Junction on the back.  I’ve never seen the show, but apparently it was a big part of Elise’s, and the rest of the world’s upbringing.  The shirt belongs to Mrs., and she gets angrier every time I wear it.  She says it makes me look fat.  That may be the greatest compliment anyone has ever given me.  Fat!  Hahahahahahaha.  Yeah, check me out, I’m a friggin’ tub o’ lard!!!

Mrs. Neill, her two lovely kids, and her big fat husband.