Monday, October 15, 2012
When I was growing up, we did not have pizza for dinner nor did we go out for pizza. It wasn’t until I had moved out and was living for a while in a boarding house, that I had my first pizzas. I had become friendly with a group of the people who lived in the boarding house, and we went out to different events – movies or other activities – on a Saturday night, for example, and then afterward we would go someplace for guess what? Pizza, of course! And it was always around midnight when we had these pizza get-togethers.
As a result, I had the notion that one only ate pizza around midnight. It wasn’t until some years later that I discovered that people actually had pizza for dinner! Then when Amalie and I were married, and moved to Mountain View, we found a pizza place that we really liked. We went there quite regularly. For dinner. I have not had pizza at midnight for many, many years. Maybe that’s because by midnight I am fast asleep.
So that is my pizza story. Not wildly exciting, but I thought you might find it interesting.
If you would think that following knee surgery I would be unable to stand up, you'd be right. I had the surgery Thursday afternoon, and I was unable to stand Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday morning. Cliff had to pick me up to get me into and out of my wheelchair. Then Sunday afternoon he put an additional pillow (actually a cushion from the living room couch) under me in the wheelchair, and wheeled me back to the bedroom for my afternoon nap. I thought, "Gotta try it." And I stood up! Surprised the heck outta me! And I've been standing on my own since then. Even walking.
When I finally met Mr. right, I had no idea his first name was “Always”.
Some guys are afraid of commitment. I was playing tennis with a man, and he couldn’t say, “30 love.” He kept saying, “30, I really like you.”
I was in love with the same woman for 40 years. If my wife ever finds out, she’ll kill me.
Love is just a chocolate substitute.
... From the lyrics of Lorenz Hart
when loves congeals, it soon reveals, the faint aroma of performing seals, the doublecrossing of a pair of heels. I wish I were in love again!