What is this thing that builds our dreams yet slips away for us

I know I haven’t been getting this done like I should. I’ve also had a brutal case of writer’s block. Or don’tgiveashititis. I can’t even get pissed off enough to write about the fact that a man who would be pulled over for driving while Hispanic and can’t marry in the State he lives in, flew into action and saved the life of his employer and Congresswoman. Although I was close on that one.

We lost a legend today.  Not only do we share the same birth date, but he certainly was there on KQED clear through my childhood.  And then some.  Jack LaLanne died today from respiratory failure due to pneumonia.  He’d been sick for a week.  That’s it.  A week.  He was 96 years young.  Because that’s what he would have told you.  He would also tell you that “I can’t afford to die, it will ruin my image”.  We can file him under “local boy makes good.”  He was born in San Francisco, opened his first health club in 1936 in Oakland.  His clubs were sold to Bally Total Fitness, nimrods that they are.  In 1994 at 80 years old he swam 1.5 miles while towing 80 boats with 80 people from the Queensway Bay Bridge in Long Beach Harbor to the Queen Mary.  If I didn’t already have a juicer I’d buy one today in his honor.

I’ve got some wine postings I need to do, but the real estate voices in my head are really really loud so like Mrs. Winchester’s workman I must keep the hammers swinging or I’ll die.

In the interim, I give you jackassery.

I checked him with my knee and really caught him by surprise.  He’s a drama queen just like Ike.  His name is Prescott and he is a jewel.  I’ve already got a home for him (I hope).  I just need to get his boys in a jar, get him to stop jumping up and he should be good to go.  He is a big ol’ slice of awesome pie.

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