When I was little, February 12th was Abe Lincoln’s birthday, a school holiday, my parents wedding anniversary and the anniversary of my father’s discharge from the army.

Maybe it is the sense of the post, a no nonsense image of stability, as if sentinel and transect, an anchor point on a blowy summer day on the ridge-line.

Running happens in my dreams these days more often than it does on the streets. Maybe that can change. We will see. I’ll let you know.

Invisible on any street in America, Bob G is a genuine American article who has done his best to do right. I was touched by his stamina and grace. He left, we shook hands and agreed to see each other at the races.

This stuff is gorgeous to the ear, or at least to mine. Some may think it sentimental and they might be right.

My friend Joe Henderson, he of many books said to me when I answered his phone call that I sounded happier than I had in a long while. I said I had just met with Richard. “That explains it” said he. All I could say in response was to smile.

My internet was down. I used the opportunity to restock the bathroom with TP, just in case, and thence to clean the floor. I went to the storage closet to get the TP and two large rolls of paper towels – recycled to be sure.

I had nothin for ya yesterday. Got nothin for ya today. Got no sense that tomorrow will be any better. What can I say, I got them old time empty mailbox blues, Ya mon.