My pop smashed up his brand new car. It was a real shame. He was ok though, which is what counts. Then on Sunday, my wife helped some lady who was going nuts because her dog hurt his foot. Paw, I guess would be a more accurate term for it. Anyhow, somehow it wound up being the case that she needed my cell phone, to call the animal ambulance, and the end of the story is that now my cell phone has no antenna. So go put that in your pipe and smoke it, Albert Schweitzer. Albert Schweitzer, in case you never heard the name before was a humanitarian, theologian, missionary, organist, and medical doctor.

Anyway, what's to tell, really? The wife has started the program of her dreams. I met a man named Wesley who made me feel bad, and life goes on. In one way, every day is filled with incredible adventures, and, for instance, last week I went to Montreal, and on the way back I was in Kentucky, which was not like I imagined it. And in between I was in LA on Monday and I'll be there again on Wednesday. Which might seem like a lot of running around. But then I was talking to my cousin, who tells me his brother, my other cousin, was Monday in Belgium, Tuesday in London, Wednesday in Norway, and so on, running around the world desiging buildings to run with lighting and heating controllers that are very advanced. So he is on the go all the time. Me, I just go to the recording studio every now and again.

No big deal.

Speaking of big deals, my friend Perry after years of trying, just got his movie funded. Which is kind of an incredible triumph of persistence. Which goes to show something. Not sure what.

Then what else. . .let me see. Oh, I ate a mound of chicken that was so big it could kill a man. That was something. And I've been having bad dreams every night for about a week. At least I'm sleeping, so I shouldn't complain.