Monday, August 10, 2009


Sometimes it is difficult for me to continue communicating via reports on the world wide waste-of-time through a blog outlet. Although several real-life events limit my commitment to such an endeavor these days, I also am a big believer that facebook killed the radio star. Thus, such reports might be an online version of spitting into the wind.

But where else can I explain that I rarely visit my dear friend, former catfish nugget chef and electric wheelchair enthusiest Obi-Wan. Some of this is based on time restraints. But most is conscious choice these days. Obi-Wan has become more of a griper and gossip than in the past. I really choose not to sit through another diatribe on how the acid queen has wronged him or how Lamont is the worst son in the world. But I feel guilty of this friendship avoidance. Am I only to hang around through the good times and not the annoying?

Once upon a time I would sit and listen patiently. Then later, I would slowly interject opposing, if not contemplative questions and views mildly defending those who have wronged us. Because ultimately, we too are sinners, and so forth. But no avail. Obi-Wan wants the universe to know of those who have wronged him. Or whatever.

I have yet to tell him of our assignment change coming within the next twelve months. I think the news could send him towards death. He hates it when we leave on vacation because he “misses seeing our car in the driveway across the street”.

Often I wonder about the timing of his life and our exit from the fair mother city. I had assumed Obi-Wan would pass on by the time we moved. But maybe he won’t. I don’t know.

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