Postscript: The Night The Lights Went Down in Georgia

Damn, my unpaid-to-this-day $25 parking ticket in Ohio in 1995 shoots straight to the top.

 

Well, good to hear.

A friend years ago did hard time for a vehicular fatality in his native country, he later married an American and helped found a company here that developed tech that's now a ubiquitous part of our lives.

But first you should register to vote.

 

Breaking Glad.

 

If this man asks you to run an errand for him...don't.

 

I spent the entire day yesterday looking for a piece of volcanic rock under a big tree near a stone wall. And can't spell Zihuatanejo without looking it up on Wikipedia.

But I find I'm so excited that I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel. A free man at a start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.

 

Stealing from a Hobby Lobby? They should give him a medal, not a sentence.

 

UPDATE: The woman who threatened Gwen, started the entire incident that led to guns being drawn and was dogged in trying to get me arrested and jailed has died. Her obit just showed up in today's newspaper. Yet another little bit of closure, knowing she can't do anything more to me in this plane of existence.

Whatever happens between her and God is not my problem.

 

Cross her off then.

 

You and that woman, whatever happened there.