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Wednesday, November 18, 2020

 No one should feel sorry for me.

That idea strikes me after some reactions to my post yesterday. Some folks sent emojis with what I take to be tears.

After all, it's not as though I suddenly became a fan of the Chicago Bears. Imagine this -- they are struggling at quarterback, something they've been doing since Sid Luckman retired in 1950.

I'm merely changing shelter again and extraordinarily appreciative of what I've had for the past six months. I wanted to describe the beauty of the changing seasons.

In the time since I was laid off, I have found an extraordinary number of friends who have impacted my life. That calls for celebration, not sorrow.

And I keep taking the next step forward, inexorably, understanding how precious are the gifts in life, friends, family, life, nature, science and a couple of beers at the end of the day.

No, don't cry for me Argentina -- or any other country for that matter. OK, Albania, you can cry for me -- but no one else.

I'm pretty blessed even in tough times.

Peace and blessings unto you my brothers and sisters.

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