WRITING THESE LITTLE POSTS is the only thing during each day that I tell myself that I absolutely have to accomplish. All I have to do is think up some words and put them down. I can even repeat words, and they don’t even have to be true. I can make stuff up, or I can remember stuff, real stuff that actually happened. It won’t really matter to whoever is reading the words, since they won’t know the difference. Or, on days when I can’t think of any good words about anything in particular, I can write about nothing at all, as I have done at least twice that I can remember. It works out just right because, the older I get, the less I can remember and the fewer good words come into my head. This morning, for instance, I am focused on just two words: FLANK STEAK. Last night I grilled one and, for once, it came out just perfect and wasn’t tough or chewy or otherwise difficult to get down. Perhaps the experience was somewhat aided by three words that accompanied the grilling of the steak: GIN AND TONIC. I downed two while grilling, but that’s another story.
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