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Flashback Friday



I'm reminded of the Philip Roth quote: "Old age isn't a battle; old age is a massacre."  Of course, I have no idea why.  Maybe a smattering of gray in my oaken brown mane.  Perhaps another hole in the belt, but otherwise just the same.  Some may say I've aged not a whit.   The others in this photograph, well, maybe the less said the better.   I'm a veritable Dorian Gray, lucky me keeping my youth (pronounced hew-yu-eth by the zealots) whilst all about me everyone ages.    

Anyway this picture taken maybe twenty years ago.  The flower of our hew-yu-eth.  It is Friday.  Some may go fishing this fine Spring day. Others may be preparing a trip.  Both are fine endeavors.  Whatever you decide to do, make it memorable.  

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Flashback Friday

Class, Or Lack Thereof The Dwight Vice gravestone in Oquawka, Illinois. I bring this old chestnut out every so often just to remind me that class is classless.  Dwight Vice was killed in his home near Oquawka in 2001.  It was one of those things that can generate crime:  two guys thought Dwight had a lot of money stashed at home because of his pot-selling sideline to supplement his fishing job.   Not really one of those big drug deals gone-bad things.  Marijuana was, according to the trial, about the only stuff Dwight sold.   But these two guys barge into the house and killed Dwight and attempted to kill his 11 year old kid, Darryl, before they took off with what money they could find.   His son, now 23, was stabbed in the back and left for dead.  He survived and is wheelchair bound and has undergone several surgeries to repair his wounds.  He will be paralyzed for life.   None of this is pleasant.  Reading the facts of the murder and attempted murder are most unpleasant