This blog is like Balloon Boy's balloon with me aboard. It seems to be drifting ever closer to the ground, to a crash landing, perhaps a soft crash.
I've gone from worrying about it to not worrying about it. Bright new vistas have opened to me on other fronts, mostly involving reading. In the last couple of months, with focused diligence, I've learned to read. And so I've been exercising that new skill, becoming stronger all the time.
Looking back on some of my entries on this blog, I've been surprised to read them and see what it was I wrote. To a great extent, I've been amused. But, like Frank Sinatra not listening to his own records, it's not that interesting to read your own writing.
So this could be it. It could be. I'm not saying it is. My biorhythms could kick into gear at any time. It really could happen. Otherwise I'm seeing this as an inexorable slide toward oblivion.
Of course it has to come at some time. I won't be 85 in a nursing home doing this. So at some point I'll be outta here.
I'm thinking about challenging the biorhythms by reminiscing. And I just might. With a series called "If This Is It, We'll Always Have..." And then something from the last however-long-it's been that we'll always have.