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Rated: E · Assignment · Biographical · #2271049
Well, uhm... it's an update on being me. Who am I? Aye, that's the question!
WdC sent me a reminder to update my bio. So, I decided to write a bit about me. Some of it might even make some kind of sense, but don't count on it.

         I am, of course, slightly younger now than when I last updated my WdC bio. I'm definitely not the same stream, so whoever steps in me now will become a new person --- and will probably need to clean his shoes.
         I'm seriously considering changing my name to "the Shawn formerly known as the symbol of a raised finger." Many people signal me in that way, especially in heavy traffic or anyplace where someone demands that I wear a mask. I'm pretty quick to explain that I refuse. If anyone asks me why, I refer them to the U.S. Constitution. Frankly, I've watched enough westerns to know that a mask is a sign that one is being robbed. I might hand over my wallet, but my freedom will have to be taken over my dead body.
         As I mentioned, I'm younger and wiser than I was. The wiser I become, the less I worry and fear. The less I worry and fear, the younger I grow. How wise would anyone be who allowed himself to grow old and foolish?
         Show of hands, please. How many of you know what "senate" means? This isn't one of my jokes. I'm actually being serious. I'm going to explain something I learned in Latin class at SIU. The L. word 'senes' means 'old men'. A "senate" is linguistically "a group of old men." "Senility" comes from the same L. root, referring to a decline in mental acuity as one ages. It all seems perfectly reasonable to me. Well, it all seems reasonable except the idea of allowing a senile old senate to make laws for an America from which they are as distant as George III and parliament were from colonial America.
         So. Let's see. This is supposed to be an update. So what's new? Well, most of my life doesn't require updating. Most things in my life know no time. I think of my first "girlfriend", Cheryl Tash, who was five years old at the time. (Don't panic. I was a few months her junior.) For many, many years I had a photo of her (taken c. 1966). Now, I have a clear image of her in my mind's eye. Unfortunately, the printed photo disappeared into one of many moves or into the shuffle of a divorce or two. I've always wished I could reconnect with her, and with many other people who still inhabit my heart and mind. I think of all those people constantly. I think of them as oft as I think about my wife, my kids, my grandkids, my ma & pop, my siblings, friends I've not seen in years, and so many more. I think of a ring I found while dumpster diving as a kid. I think of the golf ball I lost under a stove when I was around four or five years old. I can see the laundromat in Markham or Harvey IL where ma used to wash our clothes. As I type this, I'm six years old and seated in the backseat, waiting for ma to hand my half hotdog to me from the front seat. If you shared my understanding of time and reality and existence, you'd know what I'm saying. My point is that my life doesn't fit neatly into this apparent moment. It fills every moment that ever was or ever will be. There's no need to update infinity.
         I guess that about wraps up this brief discourse (or golf course) on updates. Next time, I might write a discourse on briefs. I've never written on underwear before, but one day I'll get off my butt and do so. Or I might find a very understanding friend and just write on his/her/etc underwear. In any case, I'll get to the bottoms of things.
         Until later,
         Guten abend.
         Buenos noches.
         Bon nuit.
         and Kann ich bitte feuer haben?
         and I'm not finished yet? Mais oui. C'est finis. Bon!
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