You’re officially an old fart when your life begins to center around your illnesses, and trying to stay alive to the end of the last quarter. I just have one more day of antibiotics, and then I’m done. Tomorrow I’m going to my state rep’s office to see if I can’t badger them into expediting my application into the state’s pre-existing condition insurance plan, so I can get this stone-filled gall bladder out.
I know so many people in despair right now that I feel almost apologetic for complaining about my health. Yeah, I’m sick but… there’s a roof over my head and food in the house. Not so bad!
Meanwhile: Blogger James Joyner, a real nice guy, suddenly lost his wife yesterday. She was only 41 and left two little girls behind. So sad. Be kind to each other, you never know.
As in, “I just signed.” The nice ladies said that as of yesterday they had gathered over 2,500 signatures in our little town.
2,500 compared to their goal of 3,000 by January 15th.
Their only instruction was to print your name nice and clearly, so there wouldn’t be any problems with votes being thrown out. I did my best.
If you haven’t seen Naomi’s Wolf’s analysis of the nationwide, federally supported crackdown against Occupy encampments, that’s because you don’t read Reader Supported News or foreign newspapers such as The Guardian. More here.
Well, I don’t have no clothes to clean
To put inside the machine
It’s the craziest place I have ever been
Rory Gallagher, the Irish rocker who died in 1995, was just named one of the “100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time” by Rolling Stone magazine. Unlike half the people on the list, he actually was a great player. More here.