A Place to Go

One king (who says he’s a regular reader) dropped me a postcard whereon he noted that on some days there are more Daily News Items about kings than there are on others.  (The postman who delivered this note read it and said, “Don’t guess you get to be king by eatin’ stupid pills, do ya.”)

 

 

Don’t fool yourself –
everybody’s got
at least one place
to go.

 

 

(One guy’s story goes like this):

After a lifetime of heartache, mistreatment, earthquakes, tidal waves and – ah, never mind all that – after a lifetime of life, this one guy said, “If I was any more like myself, it’d be frightening.”  (Biographical knee-note:  Some guys’ stories take longer than others, but it doesn’t matter.)

 

 

One day, this little rowdy kid (god bless ‘em, are there any other kind) said, “Seems to me there’s a whole lot more of stuff that had to have happened than history says there is.”  His gruff, but lovable, ole man (god bless ‘em, are there any – hell, we already buttered that biscuit), his ole man said, “Hey kid, where are we?  That last parenthetical made me lose my place.”  And the rambunctious lad obligingly repeated, “Seems to me there’s a whole lot more of stuff that had to have happened than history says there is.”  And the old man replied, “Hey, and that’s why it’s called ‘history.’”

 

 

That which is worth waiting for
is not worth waiting for long.

J.