Mea Culpa

Greetings, folks,

Having lived nearly three score and two years and been married to the same woman for almost one score and five, I should have known that sharing my erotic dreams in the last post wouldn’t go over well with her. But hey, I’m a slow learner.

“I don’t give a damn if you have dreams about dental hygienists! But do you have to tell the whole world about it?!” she snapped. “I’m embarrassed for you, you old fart!” With that, she stormed off to meditate on the roof. It was a cold, dark morning, and her words weighed heavily on my heart—and other organs.

I didn’t go to work that day. I told my colleagues I was temporarily abducted by aliens. Instead, I spent the day at a neighborhood bar aptly named Cheers.

Even now, I’m at a loss for words. So please, allow me to share some recent photos as my way of saying Mea Culpa.

Been listening to this opera for the past few days, on repeat. Thanks to

Mark White

for recommending it. Available on Spotify and other platforms. Read about the opera here.

Thanks for reading and being a subscriber.
’Til next time.
ak