We let Aschenbach go last week (a week ago Tuesday to be precise). Yes, that’s a thinly-veiled metaphor for had him put to sleep. Despite all efforts and methods, his cancer spread throughout his body, including into his legs, and we felt it selfish to force him to go on and perhaps be in pain. People may force humans to do this, but I refuse to let anyone or anything I care about suffer endlessly to assuage my own guilt, or to keep them around past their time.

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No, I couldn’t come up with a clever title. I’ve never been good at posting, at best. And some events of last year pretty much messed up my will to share with a lot of people. I’ve tried to force myself, but it often seems lackluster.

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Now, if this isn’t leading…

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After the incident with nearly all the water heating pipes in our house freezing and bursting a couple years back, I’ve become keenly attuned to the sound of dripping (or rushing) water. I’d started to relax about this a bit, but any little clicking, pinging or plunking that sounds like it may be a disaster along the lines of ceilings about to fall (literally), make my heart jump.

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In an attempt to keep myself on track with writing things for this blog, I’ll try a new feature column. These will be short snippets and memories of the few times I’ve run into people or celebrities who are famous for whatever they do. Along the lines of the Spalding Gray entry I wrote awhile back, really. No, there aren’t many of these tales, as I don’t seek out such events. Nor am I normally very impressed with such people merely because they’re famous. And while I may respect a skill, there are actually very few people in the world whom I respect and admire on more than a passing scale, and I tend to do so more for their personality and actual works for others than for their celebrity status (or lack thereof).

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