And it's a new modern day record!  I slept until 8:49 this morning.  Felt like I was hung over, had a tough time getting myself going, and just barely got away on my walk in time to get back and get cleaned up and dressed for the VCC Board meeting at 11:30.  Actually I was late, and was still sweating like a pig.  Funny ... on the walk I thought I'd cut it short and get back in time to cool off and get ready; but I got lost.  Lost!  Me!  In Starkville, a small town where I've lived for 26 years and went to college 5 years before that!  I found a street -- a circle really -- that is only 3 blocks from our house, but which I'd never been on before.  And it was hot and very muggy since I walked so late.  Gotta change my routine.  The meeting was interesting, and I got to have lunch from the Veranda, which our neighbors own and run.  Great chicken and dumplings, which is my favorite of their lunch dishes, and fried okra.

I was a brave lad after lunch ... once I'd fortified myself with some Aussie NRL rugby, which I had DVRed a few days ago.  NRL and AFL (Aussie Rules) games are filling my sports void now that the Euro Cup soccer is over and football hasn't begun.  The bravery comes in when I went to Wal-Mart, something I try to do no more than 2-3 times/year.  I needed CD's and a few other items, and I decided to do a little grocery shopping while there (which I really hate to do at Wally's).  Here's the cruel, ironic truth:  Once there I got everything on my list except the very thing I had gone for, the CD's.  Dammit!  I hate forgetfulness, especially my own.  In the last couple of weeks I learned that one of my very best friends, who has early onset Alzheimer's, has gone downhill.  I saw him twice in the past 15-18 months, and he was not in too bad a shape -- I'd say he was himself 80-85% of the time.  A few years ago I lost one of my dear friends to the disease.  It's such a shitty disease ... I'd say Alzheimer's, stroke, and cancer would be at the bottom of my choices of ways to go.  Guess I don't get a vote.  But it's hard knowing that my buddy has it, and that while he's still alive, I will never again have the warm, generous, fun friend that he is.  As I've said a few times recently, the worst part of growing old is not the knowledge of one's own mortality; it's facing the loss of close friends and family.  The world starts to feel emptier.  Maybe that's part of The Plan ... that the loss of those you love -- and the joy they bring -- makes it easier to ready oneself for the inevitable end of one's own life.  Somewhat analogous to your dear children turning into surly teenagers, which helps to turn them loose when it's time for them to leave home. 

Sorry ... I strayed into much more serious territory than I had planned.  Good night, Chet.