Were you sick of all Kennedys all the time? -- A thoughtful still photographer Dear Thoughtful:
Thoughtful follow-up question: What I want to know is this: why, as a nation, are we so emotionally constipated that we have to wait for a Di-ification to write poems and give away flowers? Why aren't we writing poems and giving flowers to those, among the living, we love? Enough grouch for one evening. I have owls in my front yard, so who can complain. Dear Sensitive stillguy:
To feel some affection and express it, maybe you have to have the TV off. Maybe you have to have spent some time learning to play a musical instrument, or memorize a poem. Maybe you need to let the dog put his head on your lap, while you rub his ears. Maybe you have to sit down for a meal with the family, and know how good it tastes, and be glad for the company. And laugh really hard at somebody's joke, and then have some ice cream. I honestly think that "family" is a low priority in this culture. It comes behind money. So, if you work long hours to make the money. Or you spent the money on digital toys and want to use them instead of wasting time at dinner. Or you're tired and you just don't give a shit about the kids, and tell them to put on a tape while you veg out. Then your heart will stay shut, and your breathing will be tight, and your emotions will not be accessible until they are choked out of you by old Kennedy archives with somber strings. Please send a photo (horizontal) of the
owls.
Dear BeenThere:
Follow-up question:
My Dear Unshackled:
Dear Newspuke:
Dear Junkie:
Dear Newspuke:
Dear TP:
Amy Bowers
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