About five weeks ago, when it became clear that Donald Trump will be elected president next Monday, a lot of my friends freaked. I didn't see it on Facebook, because I was already gone, but I got more phone calls than is usual for an autistic geezer like me, and I read some blog posts, and I'm aware that folks fear what's coming and despair of
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Where on earth are you storing the shrouds and pine boxes?
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It's a futures contract: The proprietors of the cemetery are obliged to deliver them when they're needed. The plots, on the other hand, are specific.
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I'm somewhat more displeased that Trump won than I would have been had Clinton won, but neither outcome was a particularly desirable one from my perspective. :-)
You probably don't watch films or TV very often, but if you did, I would highly recommend checking out The Man in the High Castle, the TV presentation, which turns out to be a rather profound meditation on the nature of God's missions. :-)
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I've told the folks around me that if I freeze to death, I want to be cremated, à là Sam McGee. Hard to tell whether they believe me, and harder still to guess what they'd do.
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just dropping in.
good to read ya.
i haven't been here or much of anywhere in a bit.
planning is good.
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