the first one out the door, first to the killing floor

Clinton Youngblood had run to the village of Maranatha to tell of the Red Coats coming, but having run the 26.2 miles from McKinnon, he had no sooner got the message from his mouth, having barked it out between great gulps of air, he fell dead of heart failure.

Dr Josh was busy inspecting me for a Parkinson's tremor, along with other symptoms, like imagining my pets walking around the Walmart parking lot and other things.  I was having something like Dyskinesia or some ridiculous Latin/Greek thing from a moldy old medical book.

I was on the way out, when Harvey Kirvonnen came by me, brushing against my knee with his shopping cart, almost rudely, but you could tell, he was really just focused on hauling the mail.  But I thought to myself "f*ck you, I got mine", right Harvey?

The first one out the door, that "fast ass" will be the first in line for the sh*t sandwiches when Uncle starts handing those out.

Meanwhile, the rest of the world a brushfire, and myself, but a rabbit in the brush, burrowing.  I was thinking how our experience builds a kind of credit, but its really just a perception, so in other words, we can turn away from it and feel generally lost, as if the road from there to here was just wasted time.  But I tell you we must defy that feeling and learn to stand when appropriate, to shake off the dust and put on the athletic shoes.

Michael J Fox has Parkinson's and you think, surely he didn't DESERVE that, but that really has nothing to do with it.  Good things happen to the bad, bad things happen to the good, and as Solomon said, "rain falls on the just and the unjust".  Deserve has got nothing to do with it.  We must play the hand we are dealt, respecting always the inter-connections, the common good, the Triangle, and all that, love and fortune, the familiar story filtered through a different more perfect and certainly calmer interpretive model.

But Lord how I want that girl to feed my chickens.  And I can't help that, being single at this juncture: there is a certain chocolate and oats and honey to be had at the breakfast, and certain obligatory presentations and all that.  Meanwhile, I'm smiling, thinking how much real art I've seen, and even learned to read Jackson Pollock works, just a few days ago.