My friend Kacoon, not knowing that Ray Charles had died, heard him mentioned last week out-of-context. To the person who said it, Kacoon said, "Hey, you know he was a heroin addict. I'm wondering how he found a vein. Do you think he had to hire someone else?"
At the park this weekend, they played "Georgia on My Mind" over the loudspeaker, and I tried to coax Ron into dancing with me to it.
He wouldn't, of course, so I did a boxstep on the grass by myself.
Some children were playing in a sprinkler, and Ron said that it looked like it felt good.
So I boxstepped my way into the sprinkler for a moment. And it did feel good.
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