hi kids, if any actual chronological kids read this, take everything i say with a grain of pink salt. pink because that kind is actually food and activates your brain with earthy minerals. i refer to kids in the generic lifetime sense anyway, i appeal to the universal kid, but with caveats you can supply with your kid sense. i talk nonsense, sometimes, on the way to somewhere perhaps. i used to trail off in talk therapy and entirely forget what i was talking about, like i am now, but i can follow the trail of word crumbs back and see if i can see where i diverged. sometimes it's all in the divergence, and sometimes getting lost in words is the only forest you'll find.
ah, that brings me round to what me and head bird pat spoke about, the coming of obombaland, and the steadily falling trees in his advance wake, and how i always saw it in his face, a handsome face, but a mask of total control, of dirty wars and suppression, i felt the ill wind of falling bodies and trees way back when. and pat and i and many others now are heartbroken, we won't be walking free in obombaland, we'll have to escape to somewhere not yet confiscated. by car. 
congratulations on pat's leaving the order for the world 50 years on.