Fan Cub or maybe Fan Club I was chatting with a friend from Thailand, she says I have a fan club, but wrote. "Fan Cub."
I said, yes a fan Cub is a Bear.
My mother says I need to write more newsletters, not blogs, but normal newsletters. I agree, but I am up to my ears in Bear Cubs and then I am trying to keep my site from self destructing from too much traffic.
I need a vacation, and I know somehow my priorities are not correct. I want to write a newsletter one time per week.
Life is best when in first gear, life is always good. The art of life seems to be something like picking up a coin on a railway track, looking up and seeing the train coming, the horn blows, you see another coin on the track, you bend over to pick up the second coin, a friend ask you a question, the train blows its horn, and you say, to your friend, "Yes," He says, "There is a train coming," I say, "So, I can't be bothered."
"My job is to pick up the small coins of life, the job of the train to allow me to hop the train, not to run over me. If we both remember our jobs, I will continue to pick up coins, and the train will slow to allow me my hop."
Life of a Hobo, is waiting until the train slows so I catch a slow freighter to the other side of the rainbow, where dreams come true, a place full of small coins of life.