Thursday, December 29, 2016


It was a long time ago and this is my memory, what I recall. Eddie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds, all of us barely out of our teens together, romance of the age, of the ages. That’s what always comes to mind for me.

Eddie was a fool: remember all that? I do. What a stunning disappointment. But this morning it’s all over.

Interesting sun fiddling with clouds and condos about sunset last evening

and again this morning, no fog but early drizzle, promise of rain, pills, lemon water, black and dark, walk

now on 7H porch, 71.8° 81% hat on, hat with bill because the sun is having the victory and not only the bright yellow disc but its glare on the Bay in my eyes. 

What’s online for Sunday, January 1, Holy Name of Jesus/Mary, Mother of God:

Luke 2:15-21
15When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

2121 And when eight days were accomplished for the circumcising of the child, his name was called Jesus, which was so named of the angel before he was conceived in the womb..

Seems to sort of finish up the Christmas Story, doesn’t it — wie heissen sie, how are you called, wie hei├čt du, what is your name — and why? From Bethlehem and the manger, ich heisse Jesus, as the angel commanded, why? because God saves: what and why. 

Bubba. Carroll. Tom. Ensign, Commander, Father. Honey, Dad, Granddaddy, Papa. My grandmother Gentry had too many grandsons to keep our names straight, so addressing one of us she shouted a litany, “Wilbur, Walt, Bill, Bubba, Thing.” Growing up around her, I was as accustomed to being called Thing as anyThing else. Not my name, but how I was called. There's a difference.

Bubba as brother first and oldest. Carroll for reasons told here before, escaping on my 18th birthday thanks to UFla computerized rosters: 

“Thomas Weller?” 

“Here!” and I was saved.

What would I change? 
What’s the point, what would be the point? Here am I. 


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