Thanks, and Fair Warning

Thanks -- Many thanks to all who have inquired about the extended absence. It seems that my body just wanted to send me a note that I am not as young as I like to think I feel sometimes, and that perhaps I need to start acting my age. It was quite scary for a few hours, but within a day all seemed nearly normal.

And fair warning -- After a brief hospital stay (including an $18,000 6-hour ER visit -- still wonder why we need universal single payer health care insurance?), and some extended time getting my energy back, I am now approaching 100%. So, I expect to be back here publishing knee-jerk cranky observations with regularity within a week or so. I am very pleased to report that there are no apparent residual effects and my doctors deny that I was even a candidate for this little event.

And the good news -- Baseball is back!

In the meantime -- One of my convalescent readings was a collection of English-language poems. This one, by Sigfried Sassoon struck my fancy around the time that the Despicable Cretin's death toll approached 4,000:

I KNEW a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again. . . . .

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

(More war poems by Sasson here)