Porches and Barber shops

    Friday was the ER, x-rays, breathing treatment, shot-Curb. The fall last week bruised some ribs and made everything worse. But that shot ... that shot took away the pain for a while and let me have a Saturday. A simple day a fun day a day of many little things tiny moments that combined for a great day. Funny , this is a gift of the illness. In the past every moment had to be awesome to feel right about myself. This of course was imposable so I was never content.I would always let my mind race ahead to the next moment or judge this moment. I was never, hardly ever in the moment.
   Now, when the good moments are here no matter how fleeting I am there enjoying it - relishing in it... loving it.The barber shop full of old men scared with the wrinkles of time and a life lived  arguing baseball. Not the Miracle Mets or the 56 Giants but the little league of their youths as if it was yesterdays World Series. Or sitting on a porch with beautiful strangers talking shit and drinking  cold  beer. I was there in them, tiny golden gifts . I made memories and they shall stay in my mind.. They are now a thing , tools that helps get past the bad, ugly, and reality to the next simple fun thing.
   There is a saying rumored to be perfect for all occasions," This too shall pass." A proverb indicating that all material or mental conditions, positive or negative, are temporary.All moments fleeting all emotions subject to change at the drop of the hat. And lately , rarely I can be happy hidden with in them no matter where they lead or how they got there.