Praise Fred

Dear Friend,

For a moment I was super jacked. For all the wrong reasons, as per usual. I thought this was that Fred. Our Fred. I miss our Fred. Worley, not Meske. Who was, it turns out, the Maternal Grandfather of my college freshman roommate. No kidding. I probably should have been amazed he was here forty four years. But no. I was excited because I thought I'd temporarily beheld his tombstone. But it took me a year to come to that false conclusion, walking past this sign several times a month, so... improvement? fade? It's so hard I'm glad I don't keep score on moral improvement or lack there of. The good news is I don't keep track of yours, either. I do wish I'd kept better that tombstone.

thus spake,

me.