I've been told I should write something about myself, but there is nothing notable about me, so . . . I suppose I'm nearly done.  That is me in the photo on the right.  I'm the one without a dorsal fin.

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I retired a few years ago after decades of work.  I enjoyed my job, but I enjoyed my freedom much more, and therefore the day came when this old man gathered his precious Rolodex and his all-important appointment calendar, dumped them both in the trash, bade farewell to dear friends, and then strode to the gate and said goodbye to the guard, who I think liked me at least a little bit because I was always courteous and respectful to him; and then, a bit nervous and quite a bit ecstatic, I waltzed through the gate like a robed Lawrence of Arabia dancing on the train top.

 

For the first time in many years, I was unleashed and out the gate.  My salaried life was complete and would never be repeated.  I laughed as I walked down the street in the sun, anticipating the endless days of freedom in my new life.

None of that has anything to do with this blog.  I just needed an introduction to it.  And I liked the photo on the first page, although this blog has nothing to do with Oregon's Painted Hills.  I suppose it does not have much to do with anything, but, if you enjoy it at all, I will be pleased.