I have again been reflecting upon my life, which is something I really ought not to be doing. My happiness is based upon a foundation of forgetfulness, a foundation that does not stand up well against the erosive forces of clear memory and honest evaluation.
That wandering star I was born under is approaching its zenith again, and though there’s no way short of kidnapping to get me off of the Western Slope it’s clearly time for this old heathen and his old lady to mosey along.
Heaven is goodbye forever it’s time for me to go. Indeed. When there aren’t any more fond memories to be made where you are it’s time to make them elsewhere. We don’t have a timetable for it, but it’s a time that’s certainly coming.
There’s no telling where we’ll land, but our aim is elsewhere and it’s a pretty big target so we’ll probably hit it.