Life. And all of its good things.
o My lover, MiMi. We go back to 1962. And, she's my best friend too.
o Our kids. Jerry and Lisa. Both married, one living in Maryland; the other living in California. They're each good friends of mine.
o Grand children: Emmett 8, Liam 7. Two fine boys.
0 The South Carolina Lowcountry where I live. Boating in the vast estuarine system. Fishing, shrimping, crabbing.
o Waking up every morning. Looking out the window at sunup and the tides at various stages in the estuarine marshlands.
o Alligators. And deer and fox and otter and mink and bunnies. Even the squirrels
o Birds. The big blue herons and great white egrets and the storks. Diving pelicans. Ducks of all sorts. Ospreys, hawks, and eagles. Little Carolina wrens (I petted one once) and painted buntings. All sorts of birds.
o My old, dinged pickup truck with its tape deck and Willie and Waylon and the Boys.
o Fine guitar music. Les Paul, Chet Atkins, Willie, Andre Segovia.
o Blues. John Lee and B.B.
o Johnny Winter, the Texas tornado. "I'm a road runner baby, an' you can't keep up with me."
o My tools. Both automotive and woodworking.
o Roast beef and potatoes, with gravy.
o Chili dogs.
o Huevos Rancheros, beans with chili gravy, flour tortillas; washed down with steaming coffee laced with great gouts of heavy cream.
o All sorts of other comestibles.
o My friends. Some leathernecks. Some rednecks. Some pretty ladies with jewels draped from their lovely necks.
o My golf clubs. Too bad I don't know how to swing them well. But, there's too much else going on in life so I'm content as a hacker.
o Zoetrope and the wonderful writers there, whose work and words I enjoy.
o The library down town. Good books.
o My bookshelves.
o The four Novels I've written, my book of poetry.
o All sorts of other stuff.
I'm runnin' up on seventy-seven. I'm hooked on life. Havin' a hell of a time. Maybe it's because I'm a lucky man. Maybe it's because I'm a Sagittarian. Maybe just because I get to shoot the arrow.