In the midst of burned-out ruin a seedling…


As Paul Harvey would say, here’s the rest of the story. I’ve been obsessing about the Death of America, boring everybody, especially my wife, to tears. I’m right about how bad it is, but that doesn’t matter, does it? “Don’t be a Debbie Downer” is the real American Way. I get it. Well, I’ve got it now. A young lady I got to watch grow from teenage angst to mature married beauty sent me photographs of the costume she wore at her office Christmas party this year. She gave me credit for introducing her to Veronica Lake.


Okay. I’m pleased and proud. And hopeful, even if only for a moment. Imagination, glamor, wit, and humor never go out of style. They might even save us in the end.

Comments

Readers also liked…

My World and Welcome to It

The Blobfish Boomlet

A Thing We Meticulously Don’t Talk About

Trump Playing Pickleball

Taking the Masks Off for Once on Halloween

A Big Missing Piece

Is there a curse on New York City?

What’s Going to Happen on “No Kings Day”?

A Skirmish in the Gender/Family Wars

Closing the Gap