Good morning, America, how are ya?

I'm happy. Oh, nothing's changed. As these are the days where I haven't completed a single day of achieving my step goal of 10.9.44, it seems fantasy of reaching my 39-day streak again. But...

...that'll take care of itself...I'm me. I'm always me. And it's not lost on me that this post shares the same title as this one from June 20, 2020.

Sometimes it feels like a fantasy that I'll even get to October 9, 2044. Life at 66 seems so foreign. And yet, it is a mere 20 years away. And 20 years ago, on an August 12, I wrote Here's to 2001. You know how I love WWII history; interestingly enough, a hundred years prior of 10/9/2044 was the Tolstoy conference where Churchill pushed a handwritten note over to Stalin to propose postwar Europe would be divided between the Allies and the Soviets. But that's not the sort of thing to base a daily goal.

  I've seen fire and I've seen rain

I'm content. In a gray 50s yesterday, I shoved my lawn mower across the front yard. My heart rate was not perplexing, but I had nothing in the tank. In short, it felt like I ran through a cold night; I felt that old, hollow feeling. And maybe folks might say, "Dude! You don't got it, Jack!" But, I still have the drive inside, even if...

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  Lord, I can't change
  Won't you fly high, free bird, yeah!

  I've been through the desert on a horse with no name
  It felt good to be out of the rain
  In the desert you can't remember your name...