Young Mel sent me an e-card for my birthday, and had I not already chosen my epitaph, this might have been in the hunt. Still, a nice sentiment, non?
On an unrelated note, sometimes even a Godless heathen such as I am will see meaning and purpose where there is none. To wit, I've always felt like certain birds were my totems, and today did nothing to disavow me of this delusion. While I did a few perfunctory stretches before my noon-time run, a hummingbird flitted up to my front porch and availed itself of the Bacchanalian delights of my potted plants. Red salvia anyone? It was an orgy.That's not all. I'm back at work now, and as I walked from my car (thinking about blogging the hummingbird, natch), I was treated to the distinctive song of Ohio's State bird, the cardinal. I looked up, and perched atop the cupola that crowns this building, was a bright red male, warbling his heart out. So, yeah, not signs, not totems, just evidence of the bounty and beauty of nature, no matter how much that God-shaped hole in me sometimes yearns to be filled.