I was going to comment about how it still isn't safe for the choirboys to leave their hiding places after the Holy Quit announcement, but I won't.
I was going to comment about how Doner and the U.S. cops were made for each other, but I won't. I also was going to ask if it is now safe for a person-of-color to deliver newspapers without encountering a fusillade, and if it is now safe for people to be in their own home without having to worry about break-ins and being held captive, but I won't.
I was going to comment about how, as I watched the U.S. State of the Union speech, I told myself how very fortunate I have been to miss the previous 15 SU speeches because of my travels, but I won't. I also was going to comment about how I grew tired of being fed regurgitated political hash by men wearing a suit, a tie, and a straight face, but I won't.
Instead, I will comment about how the spring flowers and foliage in our flower garden are awaking from their winter slumber. It surprised me just a bit, because of the intensity of the most recent cold spell we experienced here in the land of the morning calm.
© 2006 Mark Eaton
No, Flor was composed in Yucatan in Mexico, not in my flower garden here. Nevertheless, the hope of spring is fascinating to me. Peace and beauty, not the ugliness of mankind, captures me every single time.