re: Happy, the song, the video, the experience, and the moments. Happy, an email I sent to one of my oldest friends…with some editing. LOL

Aloha All,

This post is about Happy. Yep. It sound hokey, but it isn’t. Happy sparkles. I wrote this to a friend of more than fifty years, and that alone makes me Happy. Knowing I have two friends who have been friends for fifty years! How lucky. My wife, Kathy, is my absolute best friend, and has been for 35 years. And that makes me Happy too! So, here is the email. I edited some parts,because they are not for everyone, but the gist of the email …is! Smiles, Kevin


Hey Kid,

 I was watching the original video of that song “Happy”, by Pharrell Williams-who is like 41 and looks 20 something. On the side of the youtube video list it showed an interview with Oprah. So, I went and watched that little clip. Well, when they both watch how many millions of people turned that video and those simple dance steps into their own version of “Happy,” it made Pharell cry. From unknown, to affecting the lives of millions- what does that feel like? You talk about validation. He had a “Happy Cry!” One of humility, of disbelief, of overwhelm at watching his work mean something. He is a creative person, and to see people get creative off of his creativity…what must that feel like? Oh, yeah. Happy!  Of course the comment section showed the ugly side of a whole lot of people real quickly- but the real life affect of that song is mind bending.

 Nobody wanted to play it on the air- Pharrell got turned down so many times, he just decided to put it up on YouTube as a video. In three days…three days kid, it hit millions. Then, people started making their own versions, using his music as the soundtrack, but shooting pictures of them being happy. Firemen, soldiers, street people, young girls, young guys, old girls and guys. People from Africa, Europe, Asia, South America, Iceland (yep, Iceland!lol)

  No wonder he cried. There is even an International Happy Day now. And all the money raised goes to improving people’s lives in little ways. An elderly woman gets enough money to visit her sister she hasn’t seen in thirty years. A five year old gets a bike. A Single Mother gets a years supply of diapers. Stuff that most of us don’t even think about – or what a difference it would make to have, say a T-shirt with your name on it- it is your only shirt.

  I tell you, it made me Happy to watch Happy…it seems hokey in a way. Just simple lyrics, and some fun dance steps- yet, it struck a chord with so many folks who wanted their “happy” to show.  When I think of you, it makes me smile. When I see Kathy come home at night, it makes me smile. When I talk to my friends, it makes me smile. When my daughter came over last night to print something out (her printer is broken) I watched as she worked on the computer, and mumbled to herself; she accidentally sent what she wanted to print to her work account, and she can only access that on her work computer- luckily, after a bit, she figured it out, her husband emailed it to her over here and she got to print it out. While she was doing all this, I watched her face change from concentration, to what is going on, to did I do that?

  It made me smile. When my other daughter and I, talked, a real talk. You know the ones you are lucky to get into with your children. Where you are all equals. Anyways during that talk, she laughed, she got serious, she told me a few things I didn’t know, and she trusted me to keep my mouth shut. I learned a lot from her that day, about being a mother, about being a wife, about being a person. It made me “happy.”

  Sometimes it is big moments that make you stop and smile, and be happy. When I sent you those pictures from back in the day, and that one picture taken in your little dining room…it is because of the little things that show up in it. Little things are happy things too. Happy is a joy to look at.  I have a picture of Kathy taken about 8 years into our marriage. It is simply her sitting in a tiny sports car our friends let us use. You couldn’t open the doors, you had to climb in, and you couldn’t put the top up, it was broken. When we started out, it was sunny, but we got caught in a cloudburst. So much water in the car we had to bail it out at a gas station, because it was waist deep…in the car!  Well, as I bailed it out, Kathy was sitting there , in the car, soaked, and putting on lipgloss with a big smile on her face. I love that picture. She was Happy that moment. Just like the recent one I sent where she was driving the river boat. Honest happiness, sparkles. On the water, or in it, Happy was everywhere. Think for a moment, back to when you were a kid, or young person, remember? Remember when getting soaking wet, or caught in the rain, wasn’t a bother, but made you Happy?! LOL

Smiles, Kev


re: An email from a friend…and it brings up so many things. To me, this is the opening to a great conversation…with donuts! LOL


Kevin of Carolina,

X has always been a complainer.

Not that X wasn’t correct about complaints.

The world is an awful place…filled with loathsome people.

And, let’s face it, life isn’t fair.

Not by a long shot.

I knew X would never be happy—no matter how good things got. X doesn’t even exist, X is a composite of stories over the years.

I think we’re all at least a little bit this way.

We seek greener grass and more clement climes.

But we have to recognize that no place is perfect.

No situation will be wholly blissful.

As Marcel Proust put it:  The only true paradise…is paradise lost.

I kick myself for not becoming “a man of science.”

Really, that was my dream…when I got a Gilbert microscope set at the age of eleven.

I wanted to cure cancer, the common cold, and male-pattern baldness (not necessarily in that order).

But I came to realize that no matter how much I accomplished, it would never be enough.

X is the same way.

When X complains, I listen and nod.

But I don’t make suggestions.

I do ask questions, such as, “Would you rather be doing something else?”

Long ago, I learned that there are many things to run from.

But there are precious few things to run to.

Every once in a while, in the silly stories I write, I talk about a perfect place to be.

But even if you could find such a place, you’d never know what was coming around the corner.

There’s always someone ready with a monkey wrench.

My idea of Heaven for you is a round table, at which are sitting four of the wittiest and finest minds in the universe.

Atop the table would be a never-ending selection of doughnuts.

A waiter would be on-hand to keep delivering hot chocolates (with whipped cream toppings, of course).

But I might be all wrong about that.

This might not be your version of Heaven.

I do know you like talking to people.

I know you love to read.

I know you love to exercise your mind and body.

I know you love Kathy.

I know you love your family.

But how do you roll all of those “loves” together to make the perfect recipe for happiness?

And what are the best amounts and combinations?

Much of ancient Greek philosophy concerns the search for happiness (“happiness” being “the highest good”).

If we assume this to be true, how do we go about finding happiness?

Do we simply do what feels good—and let the chips fall where they may?

Obviously not; that’s too simple.

And what if the Greeks were wrong.

What if “having a purpose” is the highest good?

What if “serving humankind” is the highest good?

What if “eating doughnuts” is the highest good?

It could be, you know.

In the best of all possible worlds, it would be.

Perhaps all we can best do is “live in the moment.”

And live each moment to the fullest.

And be a decent human being in the process.

I’m just saying.


re: Thoughts in no particular order…and man, I hate TV….LOL

I can’t believe the number and maliciousness of comments I overheard at the gym today, about some poor soldier being returned home. All of it was hearsay, and opinion. Not an ounce of mercy, understanding, or empathy. It made me sick to my stomach. Yesterday, I worked out so hard, and so fast, just so I could get out of the gym, and away from the blaring visual pollution. I wonder why, it is so difficult for people to understand that every single sound bite  they hear, or see, has been edited before they even saw it? That issues aren’t simple, and they don’t always come with two minute answers. That no one knows what it is like to be in someone else’s shoes, until you are in that position. I call it : “Talking out their ass.” Believe me, over the last two days, I have heard a whole bunch of it.

I know nothing, and I know it. Who knew that would ever give me an advantage. People act like they have lived in Afghanistan for their whole lives, understand the mentality , the language, the customs and the religion, and the family set up. They act like they know Constitutional Law, were privy to high level meetings, and have the actual facts of what went down, when and where. What the mind state of another person is, both before, and after he went to war. Mindless, pointless, ignorant opinion. I mean it is bad enough when I see a woman, one with no children tell how “easy” it is to raise babies, to a woman who has two children under the age of three. I smile at the innocent ignorance. When I hear a man tell a woman what it is like, well, the smile becomes a smirk. “No way buddy. ”  Sure you can know facts. I know bunches of them. Like this one: in 40 degree ocean water, you have about five minutes of strength, and then, well, ten minutes left in life.  I knew that for years…as an approximation. Then, under controlled circumstance, I jumped into water that cold…and well, I now KNOW what immersion in cold water means, and feels like. After first getting in the fetal position, I got in one real swim stroke, and the second stroke, was weaker, the third stroke was just slapping water. Luckily, warm blankets and ready help was right there. And that was in a pool, what the heck is it like in ten foot seas?  Ever see those Polar Bear dips, up in the Great Lakes or in Minnesota ? There is a reason they are called: “dips”, because no one stand still, or stays in. Even in the ones where you can stand up, with only your waist, and below, in the ice cold water can put you in shock. Alone, falling through a crack in the ice, well, most folks wouldn’t have a prayer.

On the upside, I had a great bike ride with my bride today. We got lost, or discovered a new way not to get there, your choice. LOL My prostate is the size of a small cantaloupe, but, other than that, two hours wandering through pine covered running and hiking paths, on a bike, made for a fun filled hilarious game of : “You said this was a short cut.”  “Well, there is one here, somewhere.” We ran into a young lady with her big dog, and asked if there was an actual street at the end of one of these paths in the woods. She said: “Oh, yes! But, I just follow my dog, he always gets us out of here.”  We laughed until we cried. We didn’t have a dog. LOL

I also got to see my grand daughter, and I got to help out my wife a bit, by doing some laundry, and making the beds, and sweeping the floors, and doing the dishes, so she could go help my daughter get ready for the birth of her second child, sometime in the next few weeks. So, the made up News stories and horrible rhetoric got shuffled to the background, because I had actual people in my life, whom I know, love and cherish. So, I did. Smiles, Kevin


re: And so, I say, by Kevin Hughes

And so, I say,

I love watching my wife pilot a river boat, with the glee and elegant innocence of a child, with gay abandon, and complete immersion in her task, I saw – JOY.

Can you have that moment with your head down, or ear buds in? Or by yourself gaming? Or listening to music that has nothing to do with being on a river?

And so, I say: Lift your head up, take your buds out, and look, listen, engage in the life around you.

I talked with two old people a few days ago, who had a bad fight on their wedding day- and they left the church, the guests, and each other.Fifty four years passed until they found each other again, and they got married on the exact date- fifty four years to the day, of their original wedding date. In between, she was married for a long time, he was married for a brief time. They have been married for 12 years now, and that story was told by both of them. How did I meet them, you might ask?

And so, I say:
I started a conversation, just pleasant innocuous stuff, and then, they told me their story. A smile, a brief hello, and then an hour long chat, because I made eye contact, spoke to them, and listened. Sometimes, it isn’t as nice a story, but that still gives you something to talk about when it goes South. And so , I say: Talk to People, learn how to converse. Learn how to listen. Learn how to share. Make mistakes with embarrassing consequences, and apologize for them. Try again.

And so, I say:

When you don’t watch TV, or you don’t read newspapers, and you live your own life, engaged in your life, you find many many things that are going well. You can watch a sunset, without thinking about death, or destruction, or bigotry, or opinions based on little more than hearsay, and innuendo. You can forget all the messy horrible stuff that happens, but it didn’t happen to you, or yours. You can withhold your judgement, your fury, your depression over the news from ever being triggered. By simply living your life.

And so, I say:

Spend days making memories, being you. Loving, learning, laughing, relaxing, playing, and, if necessary, being serious, or contemplative, or even ponder if you have too, but only about the things, or people that you can actually affect, or interact with. You do make a difference, you are making a difference by just being you, to the folks who know you.

And so, I say:


“How do you live without TV?” Really? HOW DO I LIVE? A short rant in G minor (my speaking voice when befuddled)…

“How do you live, without TV?”
I stared for a few moments, then realized that the three people talking with me, two men and a woman, were serious. Genuinely curious.
“Well, I live. I eat, read, talk, go for long walks, takes courses on the Internet in a variety of subjects, take several Great Courses, on DVD (no grade, no pressure, no time limit). I go for long walks both by myself, and with Kathy. I help out with an old restored WW II bomber. I get into conversations as often as I can. I listen to music, and even watch YouTube for instructions on certain things, or to watch video of people flying the kinds of plane I do, to airports I want to go. I write…a lot, to a lot of different folks. I think quite often. I laugh, I cry, I have mostly wonderful days, long delicious days with lots of solitude, and company when I need it. I clean house, do dishes, sweep floors, make the bed, so Kathy only has to work at her job.
I play with cats, and dogs, and often watch squirrels, trees, or bodies of water. I walk on the beach. I stare at the night sky. I reminisce about my life, my times, my past.
I enjoy my day. I guess, I live my life, my way, every day.”
“Oh, how boring. You don’t even know about the Duck people. Nor do you keep up with current events. You are not living, you are hiding.”
I smiled.

RE: Failure in two areas…

Aloha Gang,
Well, I flunked my Harvard Exam by 1.8 points. But, I took it all from Memory, and almost four weeks after I finished all the modules, with no review. For that, I am pretty proud. Had I used the resources as they advised, well, I would have definitely passed. I wanted to see what I “KNEW”, and in that I succeeded. In real life though, no Grad School for me. LOL
That is the failure that was okay for me. I had fun, I did learn, and I know more than I did, not enough t pass a test, but , a heck of a lot more than I did. Plus, I got to read the Posts from lots, and lots, of wizards. So even though I failed the exam, I give the participation and connections a 100%!
The sad part. When I as doing my fast walk this morning, one of my friends drove her car up to me and waved me to stop. She asked me if I knew the guy with the shiny black muscle car? (Remember him? I wrote a little email about him asking me to join him for a soda a few days back) .
I said I knew of him…she said:
“He passed away last night.” She doesn’t know why, or the circumstances- but she will email me them when she finds out.
I thanked her. Then I continued my fast walk. Thinking about the two interactions, and two waves I had with that man. The first was when he asked me to share a soda. I was so wrapped up in accomplishing my goal of fast walking, I didn’t take him up on it.
You all know how I felt about that. I talked to Kathy, and all of you, and I told her- and you guys, if I meet him again, I am stopping for the soda, or at least water.
Just two days ago, he passed me coming out of our street – as he had two other times before, and all I did was wave. Well, two days ago, when he waved, I waved him to slow down- he stopped, and I said to him: “Next time I see you polishing your car, I will stop by.”
He said: “Stop by anytime. I have plenty of sodas. Diet.” And he laughed.
He beeped and drove off.
And that is the sum total of our interactions. I wonder, had I just stopped and chatted that first time- would I now be mourning a new friend’s passing? Instead of mourning a missed opportunity?
I guess, if you have a chance to talk with someone, even a stranger, take it. If you really like someone, and have always been “meaning too” give them a call, or a note, or an email…well, do it. Otherwise, like me, you will always wonder, what kind of sodas he had, and what would we have talked about.
I wish him well, in whatever place he is in now. His shiny car, sits in his driveway, and it is perfectly maintained. And its driver will never ride in it again.
Kevin the somber mood person, who is going for a long bike ride to clear his mind…

Sent from my iPad

RE: I wouldn’t want an empty chair…by Kevin Hughes

It is late at night, or early in the morning, depending on your viewpoint. I sit at the kitchen table reading a book and sipping my tea, across from me, a chair. Kathy’s chair. It is empty. She is sleeping, so it is a safe empty. I read a bit more, and I look up. The chair is empty, and it scares me. Then…I cry. How many people have to look at an empty chair? A chair that used to hold a life that was dear to them?
I have the rocker that my Mother used to rock in. It was filled with life and love when she rocked in it. She loved that rocker. I gave it to my daughter, when she got pregnant – the first time; she is pregnant again, and the rocker, well, it loves that feeling of family, of Mothers, and Grandmothers, and small infants…it belongs there, and it is no longer empty.
I look at the empty chair across from me, it is a simple wooden chair. A table meant for folks with a working class budget, but with a touch of style. Functional, pretty in a plain way. The kind of chair and table you might see for sale at a thrift store. We like it. Like a friend or family member, it has some rough edges, it can be uncomfortable after a few hours. Perfect. I look at her chair, and with my eyes open, she is there. The soft smile, the more than thirty years of overlapping memories that seem to layer her so that one minute she is 23 and slim, sexy, and bright. The next she is a young mother, and then a grandmother, with grace, elegance, joy…the glow of loving shining across her face.
I wouldn’t want to have an empty chair. Someday, mine will be the empty chair. For some reason, that does not bother me. I guess, because if it is your chair that is empty, you cannot look at the other chairs. Unless there is something next, and you sit at a different table, waiting for the empty chair to be filled.
Kevin Hughes

re: Sex and Love, well, they aren’t the same thing…

Very Rarely is there a movie which ends with two people saying: We only have a few moments left, lets make hot sweaty sex before we go.”  The biological drive to reproduce is really strong. It doesn’t really care about a sense of humor, or intelligence, or kindness, it wants to reproduce. Scientists have called this: the selfish gene. It is called that, because life just wants more life. Period. However we are humans, and we want more than sex, we want love, and comfort, and intimacy. So, what side of sexuality are we on? Animals, with no care or worry about the outcomes of sex? Or humans , who feel a baby should be a product of a loving relationship, and sex is a way to bond. There isn’t any real answer. In your life, you are going to want to have sex with a lot more folks than you are going to want to make love with. At the higher levels of love, sex isn’t even necessary, and can even get in the way. So how do we find balance? Modern techniques have allowed for folks to have casual sex without fear of bringing a baby into the world. The baby is the only one that doesn’t have a choice. People do. Alcohol, drugs, emotions, situations, and economics all drive , well, our sex drive. Love, very rarely does. When you throw our religious, or cultural conditioning into the mix, well moral judgements fly like arrows in a medieval battle. Negative words like, slut, and whore, and tramp, we label women with. Yet it is those same activities that we want women to be for us. Most of us, when young, picked up the real message about sex from our Churches: “Sex is dirty, disgusting, and immoral, save it for someone you love.”

Feminists have a ball (no pun intended) pointing out that almost all the negative words, only apply to women having sex outside the normal cultural boundaries. In fact, it has only been in the last few years that we have even acknowledged that women can enjoy their bodies, as much as we do. Pleasure is there for the taking. Yet, we have made men who have multiple partners , well, romantic figures, while we label a woman who likes men, well, all kinds of labels. It is a paradox. An enigma. A puzzle. Human sexuality is all bound up in so many rules, that the animal parts get twisted and frenzied trying to just be natural.

So, what’s love got to do with it? Everything. If you are in love, sex is a wonderful way to share, to bond, to become intimate. Truly intimate, to the point that when you are scared, or want to share your happiness, a single name pops into your mind. That is intimacy. Sex, is private. But, it can become intimate. As the old song goes : “…birds do it, bees do it, squirrels do it….even we do it!”  If you are having sex, stay safe from disease and unwanted pregnancy. If you are making love, well, keep it up! LOL

The person who can figure out sex in America, hasn’t been born yet. We live in a country, where we can show a soldier dying in real time, talking to his wife, and watch it over and over again for nothing more than prurient interest, a salve for our lack of empathy. Yet, if a wardrobe malfunction happens in the Super Bowl, to a Super star, millions of self righteous outraged folks scream about seeing a nipple. What a strange and terrifying message. Watching people die, and the agony and grief of their loved ones, helps pass our time, in real time, but a breast? God forbid we should see one of those, how disgusting.  I hope you have experienced good sex , and even great sex. I hope even more dearly, that you have experienced love, and hopefully, a great love. Most of us have only had a few true loves in our lives, in fact, you are lucky if you even found one true love, let alone lucky enough to have loved more than once. Sex, well, most of us have had several partners, and even more in our fantasies. Sexual fantasies have multiple players in them, over time. Love fantasies , well they have one. Your true love.

When you die, you will ask for those you Love, not for those you had hot sexy times with. Even if the one you love, is the one you had the best sex of your life with, at the end of it all, you just want to talk, to hold hands, to be near. Sex, gets in the way at the important moments. So have fun with sex, and enjoy it, realizing that it is just one aspect of your love, and not your love itself.  Smiles Kevin who has had both sex and love, and has more love than sex, and that is okay with me. By the way, I know lots of folks over sixty, who are tired of sex…period. Funnily enough, I once talked to a beautiful woman, who was only twenty two at the time, and she hates how sexy she looks. As she told me: “When you have a body and face like mine, you run into the Jessica Rabbit complex: “I am not bad, I am just drawn that way.” I am tired of never knowing if they even like me, or if it is just my body and face they want.” I think you can hear it in her statement, she is looking for love, not sex. If you can understand that, you are becoming fully human.  Humans fall in love. They always have. They always will. And love is no respecter of gender, age, or social rules. People fall in love, not clocks – so age is irrelevant, so is gender. If two people are in love, there is love. If they also have sex, so what? The cool thing about love, is it is so personal, that sometimes, only you and your true love exist, and sometimes it is even down to just one. LOL

re: The Story of Light… ( A short story)

It was a point of light. The first light to ever exist, for the Universe did not harbor “visible light” until that fatal moment when it had cooled enough to let light -be. The light was alone. There was no other light. None at all. Light, was alone. The first of its kind. Of any kind. It wanted to have other points of light, thousands of them, so many that Politicians in the future would use it as a reference. Whole books would be written about it, and even Religions founded on a single principle: “let there be light.” Alas, there was none. None but one. One lonely photon. Light, itself, wanted to see. It wanted other light, so it could see. Vision, after all, hadn’t been invented yet, nor things that could evolve, or even the process to evolve, hadn’t evolved yet. In the beginning, and that is where that phrase truly has meaning, in the beginning, there were few rules, few particles, and few of anything. Light knew that. It was the first of its kind. With no eyes to see with, how are things supposed to be visible, yet, Light was.

In the far future, light would snort derisively at a mutant form of life, called:biological, would claim vision as a “evolutionary adaptation.”  Light knew it was an invention, for it was he who invented it, so he could see! Light would snort, but not in the NOW it was experiencing. Later, the particle of Light would laugh heartily with a tinge of amazement as the biological mutant stream of life wrestled with the concept of time, which only worked in the world of observers. Light, was all Now. An infinite moment, with infinite mass, if you had to use acceleration to achieve the speed of light. Light did not. It was already there, now, and forever. Time had no claim on Light, in the comfortable quantum world in which it lived, crazy thoughts were normal, and Time was a concept with no value. Duration was not measured in time, but simply by the Light itself.

The piece of Light, did want more light to keep it company. Light did not, however, want the sloppy, messy, (and dangerous!) pathways to reproduce, that the biological mutant forms had chosen. So it simply willed more light out of itself. That simple act released all possible particles from the Quantum foam. Light raced with its new litter mates through the Universe. Marveling at the “Darkness” where it wasn’t, and the shadows where it was interrupted. The Universe had edge, color, and even shadow. Where light was not, the Biological Mutant life forms, had decided that dark, meant empty. Light was pleased when the biological stream of life finally dropped that assumption, and smiled at the concept of dark matter.  Light felt sorry for the biological mutant forms, that were limited to the visible Universe and its narrow band of radiation.

Light had its own challenges. Being limited by the rules that the biological mutant life forms had discovered: its speed, in this Universe, had a limit. So slow it seemed. Yet, Light was not born in this Universe , it was introduced to it by cooling.  Therefore Light existed in previous incarnations of Universes. To be fair to the biological mutant forms, light was not actually a particle at all, but a quanta of light, it couldn’t remember what it was before it became what it is, either. In that, Light and the Biological forms were connected. Unlike the biological forms of life though, Light , could…and did travel in its earlier existence, as well as its future now. Light confounded the few great thinkers in the biological mutant world with its strange quirks: super positions, simultaneity, quantum tunneling, and that spooky action at a distance. Worst of all,  it could inhabit that “spongy” place that didn’t exist in the “Real” world of the biological forms of life.  The quantum foam, a virtual soup, where nothing, is a necessary component of something. A universe with every thing taken out of it, including light, is still capable of producing everything in it, including Light.

That, is what the little piece of Light was counting on, when it made more of itself by willing into existence its companions by thinking: Let there be Light.

And there was.

By Kevin Hughes.

re: Just sitting there…

I was just sitting there, not really thinking, without a care. Oh, I had the sense of I , and me, because, well, I carry them most everywhere.

I wonder what it would be like to have been completely shaped by me? Without a culture, society, or even family. I wonder if I would even know that I, was I, or even me. The things you think when you are just sitting there.

I like the sound of laughter, I can hear it in my ear. I can also feel it in my soul, and sometimes, even in my heart. I don’t know if it sounds good because it feels good, or feels good, because it sound good. I like laughter, it comes in more dresses than a High School Prom.  I think of laughter when I am just sitting there.

I know a lot of people, some think they know me, and I am not sure that even I do. Yet, I am more certain that I know who they are- and how can that be true. Sit there for a while, just sit there, and you may wonder too.

Wonder is another thing I do when I am sitting there. Both kinds of wonder. First the Wonder, of a sky filled with stars, galaxies, and tiny points of light, so far back in time, that even my weak old eyes can see for at least a billion years, maybe more.

The second kind of wonder, is: who lives out there? What does it all mean” Is there a reason? I mean I wonder if my life meant anything except to the folks I knew. I wonder what it would be like to live on another planet. What would my body look like? Would I even have one? Would I be sitting some where – up there- just sitting there?

I wonder how we know what love is. I mean if you are just sitting there, you know if someone loves you, usually. You even know the different kinds of love that surround you, even when you are alone, just sitting there. Love is even cooler than laughter, because Love can make you act. It can make you do. It can make you alive. Laughter , especially if you are just sitting there, lets happiness in.

So, if you are just sitting there, how much of you is present? Or did you go for a quick trip to your past? Or maybe, you are in your future? Pretty nifty trick your mind can do, move through time, while just sitting there. Physicist can’t figure it out, and we do it standing still. Maybe you even lived your life over, or made it different in your memory. Maybe some folks were left out, and others left in, as you chose to remake what made you – you. All, while you were just sitting there.

Me, too. I think I will just sit here a while longer. Or, maybe I will shift a bit, and just sit over there. Ahhh…..