Listening to NPR while driving to taco bell is a lovely consistency in my otherwise haphazard life. Recently there was a touching story about an old woman who had had a stroke or brain aneurysm( I can’t recall which) and lapsed into a 7 month coma. When she awoke her daughter asked her where she had been, in her mind. She replied, ” I was a little old Vietnamese man, farming vegetables in my garden.” The woman went on to say that she sings randomly all day long now and is no longer afraid to die. Such a refreshing way to live, so in this spirit Becka and I decided to try vietnamese food. We ordered three different types of tofu and chowed down. A great sister-date all around!
I don’t know how to be a little old man