There are things that hit our thoughts. Wine is a thing to bring them forward. In this case watching the British series KINGDOM (Stephen Fry) contributes to their emerging.
An old cemetery, grave stones, how will I be remembered? I believe my picture was taken for grade school graduation; I went to high school and didn’t have one taken – actually, in retrospect, I was quite handsome, but, at the time, I didn’t believe that was true – it was a time when everyone was betting I wouldn’t graduate on time. I did – despite having five regents exams to take ... and those who had easier schedules failed to pass their one. The yearbook had a section for those who didn’t have picture – they didn’t even list me there.
When it came to college ... again no picture no yearbook ... and the degree after that, and the one after that ... no picture. The last degree, the computer switch over, or upgrade, erased me. But still, there were the biographies – whos’it’what’s’its that mean so little and yet so much – that place me ahead of the family whose made so much more.
What will I be remembered for? Will I be remembered?
I’m at an age when I should be a grandfather – and yet my ample supply of kids have yet to produce prodigy. Of course, only a third of them are of an age where if could be expected with certainty – and only half are of an age where the probability was there.
It’s almost two o’clock in the morning, a year and fortnight since Betsy passed, I’ve become a couch potato and gained more than I’ve ever weighed. What is life?