My buddy John and I listened to his brother Tommy’s Allman Brothers album…and then we put on an album by Captain Beefheart…and John scratched the heck out of it with his pocket knife.
That’s being a critic at it’s most basic and honest level, right?
Rain and a bunch of packages that weren’t designed (or boxed) to fit in a Jeep Cherokee…too long a route….too many dirt roads…too many steep dirt roads…too long a route…TOO LITTLE TIME….
Arghhhhhh.
I’m a whiner…but…I don’t like a day that starts off frantic and maintains frantic-ness until it culminates in a mad (and, somehow, even more frantic) dash to the finish line where I’m just barely making it back to the truck with my outgoing mail.
That’s not a way to live.
Pushing down the frantic so I can cope with the day takes a lot of energy, too.
Pushing down the temptation to panic and really blow a gasket takes a lot of energy.
I wish that I had a long river to skate away on most of these busy days.
I don’t know if they make rivers long enough, though.