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Editorial Note: I can do this in that I’m the editor. I had lunch today with a bud, (like, I’m really gonna have lunch with somebody I hate) who read the “Run Toto, Run” story, and for that, I caught the tab, but he missed what I tried there, what I wanted, and I’ll offer it like this. Been to a funeral lately? They’re really all the same, actually. Look around. Everybody’s grasping all hands, smiling, bobbing heads toward the side affected, by gravity, I’m guessing, and you can lip read. “I know,” and “It’s a shame.” That’s what you’ll see most. But back up for a sec. What you are really seeing in the social hall is what’s on everybody’s mind; “I’m glad it’s not me.” Look over the top of everybody’s head. It’s written in those little speech balloons floating up there. Anyhow, kinda what I was getting at in the story was intended as simple. I meant, look at these gifts, then pause. There’s one who worked from the time she could walk – ’til she walked no more, pets who do what pets do – love you, a country’s president – lost. How do you lose a president? Whatever. Pets. Got a dog? Never fails. Leave the house for 15 minutes or 15 days. It won’t make any difference. When you come back, his reaction will always be exactly the same love. This is kinda where I was wandering here. Baby Gumm, you said it in a lot less words than me, “If I am a legend, then why am I so lonely.” That’s all.

Outeasy

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