I couldn't have been more than five years old but I remember it like it was yesterday. I was a mere cherub myself and I was sitting on my grandmother's knee. We were listening to old hymns and waxing philosophic when she looked me in my saucer-like eyes of brown and said, "Remember this young crumbsnatcher, a watched blog gathers no comments."
Or maybe I'm not remembering that quite right.
Today is nice but a bit weird. My wife is at the Titans game and I am home with the kids. They are sleeping soundly with dreams of stormtroopers dancing in their heads. (Well, I doubt the stormtroopers are actually dancing, but what do I know? They're not my dreams.) I have the game on but the sound is off. An archived performance of the Grand Ole Opry is playing on my laptop and Trisha Yearwood is singing about some girl who is in love with some boy.
My wife loves country music and I love music more along the lines of Nine Inch Nails and Tom Waits. But here I am choosing to listen to steel guitar galore while she is away. I'll leave that tidbit for someone else to analyze. My little guy just woke up from his nap and he wants to watch Star Wars again. Works for me. I can always keep up with the Titans game online.