As I step out of the house, the freshness of the air bombards my sense of smell. Something I haven't smelled in many months. My skin notices too. It feels the warmth of the morning's breath. As I stand on the porch and take a deep breath, I am relaxed, suddenly realizing what is most remarkable is my lack of physical reaction to the warm air. I am not bracing against the cold, that odd reaction we have, instinctively recoiling to hold in the warm air under our coats. Then, I notice. I am squinting. The Sun! Blessed sunshine. Vitamin D. Where have you been?
As I watched the summer turn to Fall, I recognized the finer stages of Fall. Sure, the leaves change colors and fall, but think about Winter. Everything in the Midwest is brown. Even the grass. But it doesn't happen all at once. For a while, after the leaves have fallen and the underbrush has died back, the grass is still green. It provides a last view of summer. A long goodbye.
So it's fitting that as Winter loses its grip, the grass is the first to respond. Brightening up our lives with color we haven't seen since November. Buds begin to form along branches. Crocus and narcissus and daffodils begin to poke through the faded mulch. The woodland underbrush begins to take on a slight shade of green. At first it's like a cloud in the woods. Just slightly visible over the brown. Almost overnight the buds fatten and pop open. Flowers begin to emerge amidst the branches. And spring explodes into a rhythm of color and a cacophany of birds newly returned from their southern sojourn. We all begin to feel better, more alive. And the promise of summer fun, bike rides, boating, swimming pools, golf, baseball, hiking, picnics and more, shines like a rainbow at the end of a summer storm.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
White Stuff
As I slogged through the gritty grey snow that carpeted the roadway, snow falling madly about, piling up on anything and everything, including my head as I hurried into the office, I reflected on the change of heart I have had with winter. It's reflective of a transformation we must all fight throughout our "growing up." The lost innocence, the lost simplicity of enjoying the snowfall and all the fun it could bring if you just embraced it.
From my childhood, I have many enduring moments. Why some stand out so clearly, I will never know. I am not one who can recall all the moments from my past. I have friends from college and high school who I love to share reunions with because they never seem to forget any event we shared. They revel in stories I recall only as the tale unfolds, still forgetting details likely exaggerated by time and the gift of story telling.
Yet I have moments that stand out as clear as any in my memory. Some of these memories are obviously important events in my life, others are simply random moments that shine through the haze of age like lighthouses in a lifting fog. In one of those moments, I was on my bicycle. I was riding down Briar Avenue, which runs at a 90 degree angle from our house, like an arrow pointing to opportunities that lay somewhere "out there." As I rode down Briar, I must have been reflecting on some complication in an adult's life, some moment of madness or trauma, fear or loathing, anger or frustration. I just don't recall. But what I recall most vividly is my reflection on how simple life is. How easy it is to be happy. Life was beautiful. I don't know how old I was, I don't recall if it was before or after my mother's untimely and premature death. But I simply recall thinking, "Life is simple. Be happy." And in the wisdom of my youth, I knew that adult had lost their way somehow.
As I grew older and reflected on that moment, I observed how many adults, in the effort to be happy, simply make bad choices. They follow complicated paths pursuing happiness that could be theirs if they simply took the time to appreciate the blessings of their life. If they simply slowed down enough to see the beauty of their friends, their loved ones and the world around them.
The other night we went to see "How, How, Why, Why..." It's basically a monologue about the author/performer's life events and his personal reflection on the blessings of his life. He has included in his story path a lovely and entertaining, almost sassy, lady who sings and plays the accordian and guitar. She sings in a way that lets you hear the words of a song as if you are hearing them for the first time. I'm not sure how she does it. She was enthralling to me. But the bottom line for me was that here was a guy who had one very deformed arm and one perfectly good arm that he ruined in a motorcycle crash. Ironically, his useless, deformed arm became his very useful "good arm." He adapted. And as he poignantly reflected, his prayers had changed from asking God for things to thanking God for his blessings. And, as a result of that shift, he found many blessings in his world that he never would have found, but for the "blessing" of a motorcycle wreck that nearly killed him and ruined the one good arm he once enjoyed.
I've met a similar story once before. As I reflected to others on this experience, more than one person has suggested that the change in attitude, not God, brought the blessings into these lives. Perhaps. Perhaps not. But the answer is not so important as the fact.
Be thankful. Life can be simple and beautiful. Let it be.
From my childhood, I have many enduring moments. Why some stand out so clearly, I will never know. I am not one who can recall all the moments from my past. I have friends from college and high school who I love to share reunions with because they never seem to forget any event we shared. They revel in stories I recall only as the tale unfolds, still forgetting details likely exaggerated by time and the gift of story telling.
Yet I have moments that stand out as clear as any in my memory. Some of these memories are obviously important events in my life, others are simply random moments that shine through the haze of age like lighthouses in a lifting fog. In one of those moments, I was on my bicycle. I was riding down Briar Avenue, which runs at a 90 degree angle from our house, like an arrow pointing to opportunities that lay somewhere "out there." As I rode down Briar, I must have been reflecting on some complication in an adult's life, some moment of madness or trauma, fear or loathing, anger or frustration. I just don't recall. But what I recall most vividly is my reflection on how simple life is. How easy it is to be happy. Life was beautiful. I don't know how old I was, I don't recall if it was before or after my mother's untimely and premature death. But I simply recall thinking, "Life is simple. Be happy." And in the wisdom of my youth, I knew that adult had lost their way somehow.
As I grew older and reflected on that moment, I observed how many adults, in the effort to be happy, simply make bad choices. They follow complicated paths pursuing happiness that could be theirs if they simply took the time to appreciate the blessings of their life. If they simply slowed down enough to see the beauty of their friends, their loved ones and the world around them.
The other night we went to see "How, How, Why, Why..." It's basically a monologue about the author/performer's life events and his personal reflection on the blessings of his life. He has included in his story path a lovely and entertaining, almost sassy, lady who sings and plays the accordian and guitar. She sings in a way that lets you hear the words of a song as if you are hearing them for the first time. I'm not sure how she does it. She was enthralling to me. But the bottom line for me was that here was a guy who had one very deformed arm and one perfectly good arm that he ruined in a motorcycle crash. Ironically, his useless, deformed arm became his very useful "good arm." He adapted. And as he poignantly reflected, his prayers had changed from asking God for things to thanking God for his blessings. And, as a result of that shift, he found many blessings in his world that he never would have found, but for the "blessing" of a motorcycle wreck that nearly killed him and ruined the one good arm he once enjoyed.
I've met a similar story once before. As I reflected to others on this experience, more than one person has suggested that the change in attitude, not God, brought the blessings into these lives. Perhaps. Perhaps not. But the answer is not so important as the fact.
Be thankful. Life can be simple and beautiful. Let it be.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Marking Time
Have you ever "marked time?" You do every day or week, but may not realize that's what you are doing. It came to me when I thought back to a moment of anticipation which moment concerned an event now past. And I recalled thinking how far off the event seemed at that moment of anticipation and yet, it was already over. Where had the time gone?
So the next time I sat contemplating a future event I just "couldn't wait to arrive," I "Marked Time." I consciously reflected on the time that would pass before the event anticipated. I reflected on the "present." Focused on it intently. How I felt, emotionally, physically. Observed the passage of an hour and how long that seemed to take. And then I let Nature and Father Time take their course, intending to Mark Time again as soon as I was conscious of the passage of time, as soon as I had a moment of reflection, maybe a day later, often a week or two later, now closer to the event. And at that moment, I again Mark Time, looking both backward to the last moment of Marked Time and forward to the anticipated event.
What always impresses me first is how quickly time seems to pass. I tend to focus a lot on the fact that the "present" which seemed so far in the future is here now. And the anticipated event is now so much closer. But mostly I tend to reflect on the passage of time. How I intended to reflect sooner on that passage, but events and life kept me from that moment of contemplation, allowing days to pass, sometimes weeks. In so doing I realize that impresses me most is not how quickly time passes, but how much time passes without our realizing it.
We informally and unconsciously mark time every week, sometimes every day. It's Thursday and we say, "I can't believe its Thursday already." Or it's 4:00 PM and we say, "I can't believe how late it is already." We mark the week on Monday morning and we mark the beginning of a work day when we leave for our jobs.
I sometimes simply mark time until tomorrow. As you contemplate tomorrow and what you will be doing, anything at all, Mark Time until that event. And as you sit at Dinner or you lie in bed the next evening, think back to the moment you marked time. How the present, which was the future is here upon you and your moment of Marked Time is in the past; only a memory of how you felt, what you were looking forward to, all of which has now rushed past you. And think how you were wholly unconscious of the passage of time for most of the time that passed...even though you were trying to pay attention. It's just odd to me to sit in the future, which has become the present and think about that moment in the past where you concentrated so hard on the present.
Of course, as you age, time travels faster. I suppose Einstein had a theory to explain this. Perhaps it is explained by relativity. That the closer you get to the end, the time remaining relative to your entire life span, grows shorter, making time seem to travel faster. Or more likely, it's just the opposite. When you are ten years old and time seems to crawl, a year is a 1/10th of your existence. When you are fifty, a year is but 1/50th of your existence. So from a relative standpoint, time seems to travel much faster.
If you ever contemplate this exercise, use it as a moment to focus on the reality that for many, tomorrow will not come. And for many of those many, that will come as a surprise. Life is full of surprises. So go out and live accordingly. Live as if this is your last day or week or month on earth. Live as if you have a short time left. Maximize your opportunities to love one another. Tell those around you how much you love and appreciate them. Give them the chance to tell you how much you are loved. And all will be the better for all.
So the next time I sat contemplating a future event I just "couldn't wait to arrive," I "Marked Time." I consciously reflected on the time that would pass before the event anticipated. I reflected on the "present." Focused on it intently. How I felt, emotionally, physically. Observed the passage of an hour and how long that seemed to take. And then I let Nature and Father Time take their course, intending to Mark Time again as soon as I was conscious of the passage of time, as soon as I had a moment of reflection, maybe a day later, often a week or two later, now closer to the event. And at that moment, I again Mark Time, looking both backward to the last moment of Marked Time and forward to the anticipated event.
What always impresses me first is how quickly time seems to pass. I tend to focus a lot on the fact that the "present" which seemed so far in the future is here now. And the anticipated event is now so much closer. But mostly I tend to reflect on the passage of time. How I intended to reflect sooner on that passage, but events and life kept me from that moment of contemplation, allowing days to pass, sometimes weeks. In so doing I realize that impresses me most is not how quickly time passes, but how much time passes without our realizing it.
We informally and unconsciously mark time every week, sometimes every day. It's Thursday and we say, "I can't believe its Thursday already." Or it's 4:00 PM and we say, "I can't believe how late it is already." We mark the week on Monday morning and we mark the beginning of a work day when we leave for our jobs.
I sometimes simply mark time until tomorrow. As you contemplate tomorrow and what you will be doing, anything at all, Mark Time until that event. And as you sit at Dinner or you lie in bed the next evening, think back to the moment you marked time. How the present, which was the future is here upon you and your moment of Marked Time is in the past; only a memory of how you felt, what you were looking forward to, all of which has now rushed past you. And think how you were wholly unconscious of the passage of time for most of the time that passed...even though you were trying to pay attention. It's just odd to me to sit in the future, which has become the present and think about that moment in the past where you concentrated so hard on the present.
Of course, as you age, time travels faster. I suppose Einstein had a theory to explain this. Perhaps it is explained by relativity. That the closer you get to the end, the time remaining relative to your entire life span, grows shorter, making time seem to travel faster. Or more likely, it's just the opposite. When you are ten years old and time seems to crawl, a year is a 1/10th of your existence. When you are fifty, a year is but 1/50th of your existence. So from a relative standpoint, time seems to travel much faster.
If you ever contemplate this exercise, use it as a moment to focus on the reality that for many, tomorrow will not come. And for many of those many, that will come as a surprise. Life is full of surprises. So go out and live accordingly. Live as if this is your last day or week or month on earth. Live as if you have a short time left. Maximize your opportunities to love one another. Tell those around you how much you love and appreciate them. Give them the chance to tell you how much you are loved. And all will be the better for all.
What Do We Live For?
We live for what? Today? Tomorrow? Yesterday? Memories? Anticipation? Or for the incredible joys of life, the unexpected pleasures, the tiniest moments, such as discovering previously unknown water chimes: the sound of broken chunks of ice tinkling along the shore of a partially frozen lake on a beautiful sunny day in early January? Or the feel of a snow flake as it hits your nose and melts in the very second your eyes begin to focus on it as a flake and at the moment of focus is instead a droplet.
Do we live for ourselves or our parents, our children, the poor who need our support, the grieving who need our love, the loves of our lives who bring us joy, often in unexpected ways?
Do we live for the incredible beauty of the mountains, sunsets by the sea, the awesome power of waves crashing against the rocks, the incredible grandeur of our valleys and canyons, the beauty of a smile?
Do we live for the everyday beauty that surrounds us? The moments of unexpected kindness, the smallest joys that make us smile, the simple pleasures that warm our hearts?
Do we live for the rewards we reap when we give of ourselves? The hint of hope our gifts provide? The lift in spirit of those lacking fire? The glimmer of hope when darkness reigns supreme?
Do we live for the challenges, the fears overcome, the panic stopped, the triumph of hope over despair? The feeling of accomplishment, of pride, when we fall and fail and get up to try again? When we throw off our burdens, reject their hold and attain our goals?
There are so many blessings in life. These are but a tiniest fraction. Share some of yours with those you love.
Live for today. Plan for tomorrow. But don't plan on tomorrow for it may never come.
Do we live for ourselves or our parents, our children, the poor who need our support, the grieving who need our love, the loves of our lives who bring us joy, often in unexpected ways?
Do we live for the incredible beauty of the mountains, sunsets by the sea, the awesome power of waves crashing against the rocks, the incredible grandeur of our valleys and canyons, the beauty of a smile?
Do we live for the everyday beauty that surrounds us? The moments of unexpected kindness, the smallest joys that make us smile, the simple pleasures that warm our hearts?
Do we live for the rewards we reap when we give of ourselves? The hint of hope our gifts provide? The lift in spirit of those lacking fire? The glimmer of hope when darkness reigns supreme?
Do we live for the challenges, the fears overcome, the panic stopped, the triumph of hope over despair? The feeling of accomplishment, of pride, when we fall and fail and get up to try again? When we throw off our burdens, reject their hold and attain our goals?
There are so many blessings in life. These are but a tiniest fraction. Share some of yours with those you love.
Live for today. Plan for tomorrow. But don't plan on tomorrow for it may never come.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Believe
September 5. Says a lot about my state of mind. I've been focused on way too much negative thinking. Nothing positive comes out of negative thinking. That was when I last posted to this site. That's sad. But this is good. This is positive.
Someone recently sent me that piece about Abraham Lincoln. About how many times he failed at so many undertakings. And yet he persevered. What drove the man to the ultimate success? He undertook the toughest job in the world at the worst time ever. And managed to make the right calls to save our nation. And it's clear he had plenty of self doubt. So what led him be so successful? I'll let you know. I suspect many of you have answers. Go ahead. Edify us.
As I contemplated all that is good in my life, I realized that my immediate challenge is a minor step off the path. Only time will tell if I've made a misstep or if the hill I must climb is simply bigger than what I contemplated. But with a loving family behind me, an understanding wife, and a great bunch of friends, how can I not succeed? It's impossible not to, with all this going for me.
So Merry Christmas! The many promises of the season for new life, incomprehensible grace and love will carry the day. And a New Year, a new decade dawn before us. Rise up to the challenge, refuse to fail, and keep on moving forward. Believe and it shall happen.
Someone recently sent me that piece about Abraham Lincoln. About how many times he failed at so many undertakings. And yet he persevered. What drove the man to the ultimate success? He undertook the toughest job in the world at the worst time ever. And managed to make the right calls to save our nation. And it's clear he had plenty of self doubt. So what led him be so successful? I'll let you know. I suspect many of you have answers. Go ahead. Edify us.
As I contemplated all that is good in my life, I realized that my immediate challenge is a minor step off the path. Only time will tell if I've made a misstep or if the hill I must climb is simply bigger than what I contemplated. But with a loving family behind me, an understanding wife, and a great bunch of friends, how can I not succeed? It's impossible not to, with all this going for me.
So Merry Christmas! The many promises of the season for new life, incomprehensible grace and love will carry the day. And a New Year, a new decade dawn before us. Rise up to the challenge, refuse to fail, and keep on moving forward. Believe and it shall happen.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Red Rubber Ball
Does anyone other than me remember this song?
Until today, I had no idea what it was really about. I rarely listened to lyrics. It's the melody that captures me. Particularly when I was a youngster. I heard catch phrases, refrains, but never the complexity of the song. Never the real depth of the words. Red Rubber Ball is just such a song. I love the song. It takes me back to being 13 years old, with nothing better to do all summer but hang at the pool and play cards. I used to play lots of War and Gin Rummy and 500. But finally, I learned to play Euchre and never turned back. I played Euchre all summer, every day, many hours.
That's where I meant to start this Blog. The power of Song. It can take you instantly back to a moment in life, it can transport you to an era. It can evoke emotions, rekindle love, trigger deep sadness. It's almost as powerful as Scent. Sometimes, it is more powerful.
The beauty of Song is that you can use it yourself to go whenever you want to go. Not whereever, Whenever. For example, I think of Stairway to Heaven, hum a few chords and I am dancing at the Fairgrounds to the music of SMD (Suck My Dick - I'm not kidding), the local garage band. They used to practice in the garage down the street on Briar Avenue. Or some of the harder Led Zeppelin takes me back to the parking lot of our highschool, where before school started, or after it was over, we'd crank up someone's 8 track player or cassette player and play Led Zeppelin as loud as possible or Allman Brothers or the Blues. Or better, the sound of David Bowie transports me to college. Instantly. I'm there. Or the same for Spirit (Who?), who my Freshman roommate loved, Edgar Winter, Doobie Brothers, Chicago, Pink Floyd and many others. Or the Temptations. the Four Tops and Santana and the Detroit Motown acts take me back to Senior year of highschool. We drove to South Carolina where I promptly got my front teeth knocked out after wearing braces for four years. But we rocked all the way down there to the sounds of Motown on Marc's 8 Track player as we sped along at 80-90 MPH. Especially Santana. "You've got to change your evil ways, Baby. I come home and the pots are cold." How cruel is that?
And today, forming new memories. It's interesting, I seem to have a major gap where music played little in my life. No great memories, no real standouts that transport me. Until the past year or two. Why is that? Perhaps because I've started to take more walks, I now own two MP3 players and use them to work out, drive and walk. So I've begun to search for music. As I listen music gets tied to memories. Jacqui Naylor is one of my recent favorites. So I'll likely remember her songs for the period when I was laid off and working out lots. I listened to her a lot while working out and really enjoy her sound. "Celebrate Early and Often", "City by the Bay", "Ain't No Sunshine When He's Gone." All remakes, I think, but she makes them very cool.
So perhaps MP3 has revived my memory stream. Hopefully, it will create a new set of memories to transport me back when I'm 70 or 80 or 90. Not sure I want to be 100. So if I'm ever in a coma, PLEASE, Rock my world. And add a little Jacqui Naylor so I can recall a few more recent memories as well. Be sure to play Crazy by Aerosmith too. I love that song. Talk about memories....
Until today, I had no idea what it was really about. I rarely listened to lyrics. It's the melody that captures me. Particularly when I was a youngster. I heard catch phrases, refrains, but never the complexity of the song. Never the real depth of the words. Red Rubber Ball is just such a song. I love the song. It takes me back to being 13 years old, with nothing better to do all summer but hang at the pool and play cards. I used to play lots of War and Gin Rummy and 500. But finally, I learned to play Euchre and never turned back. I played Euchre all summer, every day, many hours.
That's where I meant to start this Blog. The power of Song. It can take you instantly back to a moment in life, it can transport you to an era. It can evoke emotions, rekindle love, trigger deep sadness. It's almost as powerful as Scent. Sometimes, it is more powerful.
The beauty of Song is that you can use it yourself to go whenever you want to go. Not whereever, Whenever. For example, I think of Stairway to Heaven, hum a few chords and I am dancing at the Fairgrounds to the music of SMD (Suck My Dick - I'm not kidding), the local garage band. They used to practice in the garage down the street on Briar Avenue. Or some of the harder Led Zeppelin takes me back to the parking lot of our highschool, where before school started, or after it was over, we'd crank up someone's 8 track player or cassette player and play Led Zeppelin as loud as possible or Allman Brothers or the Blues. Or better, the sound of David Bowie transports me to college. Instantly. I'm there. Or the same for Spirit (Who?), who my Freshman roommate loved, Edgar Winter, Doobie Brothers, Chicago, Pink Floyd and many others. Or the Temptations. the Four Tops and Santana and the Detroit Motown acts take me back to Senior year of highschool. We drove to South Carolina where I promptly got my front teeth knocked out after wearing braces for four years. But we rocked all the way down there to the sounds of Motown on Marc's 8 Track player as we sped along at 80-90 MPH. Especially Santana. "You've got to change your evil ways, Baby. I come home and the pots are cold." How cruel is that?
And today, forming new memories. It's interesting, I seem to have a major gap where music played little in my life. No great memories, no real standouts that transport me. Until the past year or two. Why is that? Perhaps because I've started to take more walks, I now own two MP3 players and use them to work out, drive and walk. So I've begun to search for music. As I listen music gets tied to memories. Jacqui Naylor is one of my recent favorites. So I'll likely remember her songs for the period when I was laid off and working out lots. I listened to her a lot while working out and really enjoy her sound. "Celebrate Early and Often", "City by the Bay", "Ain't No Sunshine When He's Gone." All remakes, I think, but she makes them very cool.
So perhaps MP3 has revived my memory stream. Hopefully, it will create a new set of memories to transport me back when I'm 70 or 80 or 90. Not sure I want to be 100. So if I'm ever in a coma, PLEASE, Rock my world. And add a little Jacqui Naylor so I can recall a few more recent memories as well. Be sure to play Crazy by Aerosmith too. I love that song. Talk about memories....
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Stop, Drop and Roll
Stop reading this entry now. I have nothing to say.
You dropped, we roll....
You can't live life well with a grudge. Without forgiveness. Without setting aside the little wrongs and the big wrongs. You can't live life well judging others. The more you judge others, the more you judge yourself and we never like ourselves very much. So, if I'm right, judging others makes us more unhappy. And I am always right. Well, sometimes, I am always right.
I had someone tell me once, "I can forgive, but I never forget." Huh? Just what does that mean? I think it means she doesn't really forgive.
I am blessed with a poor memory. With a few exceptions that my close friends know all about, I can't remember anything bad someone has done to me. Nothing that I want to act upon or vent about. But I know people that never forget, and who periodically like to remind the offender of their past sin. Their heads must be filled with bad thoughts and ill will toward a plethora of people. Thankfully, mine doesn't have room for all of that nonsense and neither should yours. Find some way to dump all of that baggage, shove it out the window and let it fall into a deep abyss, never to be seen again. And even the ones I remember, I no longer care about. They are just good stories from my past (or boring stories that I like to tell).
So stop throwing stones, or one will rebound off that glass wall and hit you in the head. Start finding positive things to think about other people. Find positive things to say about them to others. Begin to look for praise you can lay on your associate or neighbor or friend. Find 5 people this week who you will praise in front of someone else. Make it a habit.
When I started this entry, I really had nothing to say. A vague notion, perhaps, but nothing of substance. I hope something came of it. If nothing else, maybe you'll remember to remind your kids to Stop, Drop and Roll if their clothing catches on fire and it will save a life....
SS
You dropped, we roll....
You can't live life well with a grudge. Without forgiveness. Without setting aside the little wrongs and the big wrongs. You can't live life well judging others. The more you judge others, the more you judge yourself and we never like ourselves very much. So, if I'm right, judging others makes us more unhappy. And I am always right. Well, sometimes, I am always right.
I had someone tell me once, "I can forgive, but I never forget." Huh? Just what does that mean? I think it means she doesn't really forgive.
I am blessed with a poor memory. With a few exceptions that my close friends know all about, I can't remember anything bad someone has done to me. Nothing that I want to act upon or vent about. But I know people that never forget, and who periodically like to remind the offender of their past sin. Their heads must be filled with bad thoughts and ill will toward a plethora of people. Thankfully, mine doesn't have room for all of that nonsense and neither should yours. Find some way to dump all of that baggage, shove it out the window and let it fall into a deep abyss, never to be seen again. And even the ones I remember, I no longer care about. They are just good stories from my past (or boring stories that I like to tell).
So stop throwing stones, or one will rebound off that glass wall and hit you in the head. Start finding positive things to think about other people. Find positive things to say about them to others. Begin to look for praise you can lay on your associate or neighbor or friend. Find 5 people this week who you will praise in front of someone else. Make it a habit.
When I started this entry, I really had nothing to say. A vague notion, perhaps, but nothing of substance. I hope something came of it. If nothing else, maybe you'll remember to remind your kids to Stop, Drop and Roll if their clothing catches on fire and it will save a life....
SS
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