Friday, July 1, 2016


Here's a fun fact (I can actually see my daughter Suzanne rolling her eyes in anticipation of what is to come):   July 1st in a leap year is literally and figuratively the mid-point of the year.  It is the 183rd day of the year and 2016 has one hundred and eighty-three days left in which to delight, amaze, and terrify us.  

In the movie of our life that plays on a continuous loop in our mind's eye, it may well seem as if it was just last night that we were raising a glass to - and singing wistfully of - old acquaintances.  Nope.  It was considerably longer ago than that.   I sometimes wonder why champagne appears to be the beverage of choice when one has a toast to make given that champagne's arguably two most readily-identifiable characteristics, which are the way in which is spills forth out of the bottle upon the cork's ejection and its effervescent bubbles that rise immediately to its surface before bursting and disappearing, define its fleeting nature.  On second thought, perhaps I have just answered my own question. 

Whether one views life as a sprint, a marathon, or a race of some as-yet-undetermined middle distance, it is a race in which time neither slows nor stops, irrespective of whether presently you are enjoying it or it is, instead, trying your soul.  It waits for no one.  Not today.  

Not ever. 


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