Having a bit of trouble getting into this writing thing right now. We found out late last week that the wife of a friend had died, talk was that it possibly was a self-realized event. Last evening we learned that she had dined on a 357 Magnum sandwich, with her husband, two daughters and one of their friends in the house at the time. A tortured soul, the best that can be said at this time is that she didn’t take any of them with her, and that he found her before the kids did.

What is it that takes someone away from this world and off to the edge of reason, far enough to fall off into the abyss — deciding that death is more desirable than life? Drugs, alcohol, depression and denial — not a great combo. And, it’s such a mean-spirited, narcissistic act!

Sorry, just can’t work up much of a case of righteous indignation today over stupid Lefty tricks — maybe tomorrow . . . (db)

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