No time to explain, let me sum up

Sometimes blogging is like a night of binge drinking. You wake up the next morning and think, "What in the world did I do that for?" Neither is a recommended practice. Today I realize yesterday's post requires further elaboration.

Marie and I are fine. Our day was the Something Wonderful of the post--we went to church, had an invigorating workout, had a picnic in the car with the top down in the parking lot of Albertsons, sliced ham, spicy cheese, slices of bread with parmesan and artichoke dip, cole slaw and a York Peppermint patty for dessert. It was a very Abby-like meal, eaten with pleasure, some good music on the Alpine stereo. The large, rich life you want to live is right in front of you, a life of simple and sustainable joys. Then we went to her place for a nap.

And that is where the Something Awful happened, something horrible and embarrassing and humiliating. I was asked to leave. "I don't do crazy. And after the last little incident the two of you had I don't want you in my house." Never mind that the speaker of the above statement has had plenty of crazy of her own. It just hurt to the quick to be spoken to in this way, to be treated like a pariah. So today I feel like one, and I'm licking my wounds. I feel an enormous temptation to pull the covers over my head and sleep till two, or play golf and leave the cell phone in the trunk. Brooks and Dunn, a pair of country singer/songwriters, have a poignant song they do about foolish pride and the decline in the number of husbands and wives. I can hear the song in my head but can't bring out the tune. If any of you know it please send it to the blog, or play it over for yourself and listen carefully to the words. I am surrounded by waters, and haunted by melodies. Today life is teaching me a lesson I don't want to learn.