Per executive decision have not been gleaning wartime info via telemessages, rather, via print. So, imagine the wonder of Yours Truly, this asscrack of dawn, when I was confronted by not only the archetypal CNN graphics, but the title of this segment of the Iraq Thing: The Final Chapter.
Now, being a writer, does one know certainly that one's chapter currently open and worked-upon is the final. Does one ever think I am on chapter 10 and therefore must call this thing called book a wrap. Does the agent, the press agent dictate the duration, length of a book. So, who dictates the length of war, this war. How is this chapter the ultimate.
Back now now in the Shiny Apple, happily ensconced in newspaper (print media of indeterminate, infinite length = no chapters, only sections) and coffee numero duo and about to become en route to Parsons, Joint of Higher Learning.
Was greeted off the 5 at Union Square by first a 6'7" self-proclaimed Jew as Jesus who can freestyle rap at the drop of a eucharist, or a buck.
Then, around the bend, a homeless guy who lingers always at University & 14th with a brand new sign proclaiming him the most handsome bum in the Shiny Apple.
Jubilant sun, signage, synchronicity.

S'Love

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Today is the day that Beth first burst forth from her mom in the state of PA so happiest of coming out days, dear Beth.