Change-of-Seasons

One chap with some semi-solid insight into himself recently declared that what he likes about the change-of-seasons is the fact that it doesn’t change anything.

For those still pondering the relative merits of verbal assaults versus physical attacks, consider this proverb from a certain planetary point I don’t wanna talk about, that says:  “Being shouted down in the middle of the battle-field is no disgrace."  (…Enough said, right?  Bang, bang, babble, babble.)

One fellow, in a fit of satirical neural patriotism, cried out, “I regret that I have but one brain to give to my country!”  And his brain said, “you egret?”

If ‘tis true, as one planet would have it, that “Those who say don’t know,” what does this also indicate about those who listen?

One ole timer said that he could wrap up all the wisdom and experience of his years in one sentence, “Don’t wait for a train in the bus station.”  And both Amtrak and Greyhound feigned amazement at the old codger’s wasted life.

J.