Twa Essays
My plan for the future, whenever it happens Spring is here, the park is gloriously in bloom, and I sit on a sunny bench watching the young on the running path, working hard out of their fear of mortality, and I feel the great privilege of being in my late seventies, all my ambition gone, enjoying life itself, not aiming for distinguishment.
All those decades I tried to be intelligent, to be in the know and to maintain a cool Twa Essays of irony, an elegant detachment from http://pinsoftek.com/wp-content/custom/newspeak/the-causes-of-inequality-in-education.php mundane, and now that rock-climb is over: it takes no effort whatsoever to be an old man. You sit in the park and savor Twa Essays happiness and let the young do the suffering.
I enjoy writing more Twa Essays than I ever used to. So I write freely, happily, no looking back. Just get in the car and go. My great-great-grandfather David Powell felt that urge back in when he and a this web page of other Iowa farmers formed a wagon train and headed west in the great Colorado silver rush. He was tired of raising corn and hogs and fathering ten children and the gold rush was a great excuse for irresponsibility. He got to Colorado too late for gold but thirty years later got in on the Oklahoma land rush. Every summer my parents packed us in a station wagon and drove from Minnesota to Idaho to visit relatives and it was a great thrill, sitting in a window seat and holding my hand out the Twa Essays, planing through the air, feeling the lift, and then in adult life I switched to airlines and now getting on a plane is like riding the school bus to high school Twa Essays now there are seat belts.
He invited me up to his penthouse. Twa Essays was a ping-pong table. He made popcorn. Offered me a Pepsi. Et tamquam degradatur monachus. Et maior patera exsequi oportuit meum iussum. You look like a defrocked monk. She came running by and I got up and ran after her, in my suit and tie and brown wingtips, and caught up with her, and the rest is history. What would be the point? But a random car trip east from L. Sirius Radio has hundreds of channels, some serious, most frivolous. I want the past to fade into the sunset, except for the classics, like Central Park.
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Good enough. Everything is on the Internet, the entire subterranean depths of demons and obsessions. You can read a website saying that doctors and nurses who administer COVID vaccine should be tried as war criminals.
You can Twa Essays the world of men in love with weaponry. I used Google the other day to locate a column by Russell Baker that I vaguely remembered from his years writing for the New York Times. Baker was walking along a street in New York and a potato fell from a high window, missing him by a few inches, and shattered on the sidewalk.
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It is such a rare event that the odds against being involved in two during one lifetime are overwhelming. Hence, it is as close to statistical certainty Twa Essays a thing can be that falling potato will not be the instrument of my farewell.
This is as Twa Essays to immortality as a columnist gets, to know that your brilliant potato column is ever available to the curious. Creating a new world of harmony and justice is not in my windshield.]
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