A Time to Remember

This photo was supposed to be of an impressive rain of mortarboards hanging mid-air above the heads of the Roby Seniors, but my camera gulped after I pushed the button, and I only captured the aftermath.

As the kids got ready to toss their hats into the air, the group of people I was with started reminiscing about their own graduations, which made me think of mine. I then rode a long train of memory, wandering paths not taken, thinking about missed opportunities and bittersweet moments. I don't like to admit regret, though, because every single step I've taken has led me to the people who are in my life, and I most definitely don't want to tamper with the recipe that brought them to me. I just have to revisit those thoughts every once in a while and make sure it's all as I remember and desire.

The heat and the wind are wearing us all down out here in this semi-arid hell hole. It will make the rain all the more sweeter, but good grief, how bad of a mood can one woman get into? I guess we're going to see.

I had free XM radio this week. I was pretty excited at first, until I realized that the same programs are repeated every two hours and day to day. There's a lot of potential, but it hasn't been realized. Also, if I'm going to pay for radio, I don't want to listen to commercials. I switch stations every time one comes on. They last so long, like when you're trying to watch a movie on TBS. You forget what program you were enjoying before the advertising ensued.

I would like to comment on the latest Dolce & Gabbana ad featuring Matthew McConaughey. They took a beautiful, beautiful man and airbrushed out his best features. It's creepy and made me feel weird, like looking at an animal that's otherwise perfect except that it has three ears or an extra limb. They should have left him rough and scruffy, even if he was wearing a suit. It's just a travesty.

I would also like to comment on Bob Dylan at this time. I don't like his voice at all. I think he was just what the listeners yearned for at the time, though, and that he cleansed the palette. Don't buy his book Tarantula. I'm sure he was making some sort of statement, but it would be a waste of your money. It looks like a monkey or chicken was let loose on a typewriter. I'm not saying that to be hateful, that's all it is, just a bunch of random typing. No words. Just junk.

If you can't tell, I'm working from a list I made of things that I wanted to talk about. I'll try to finish it up fast: I heard a shoe was running for president, finally, a worthy candidate; I saw an old episode of Orange County Choppers the other night and thought it was a new one, that they had gone back in the original direction, which I believe is all it would take to bring it back; and I think I could have a talk show since some of the ones that I've heard this week are so lame. One lady talked for hours about her local butcher. Another seemed to have suffered a speech impeding illness. I am sure I could titillate listeners with talk about chickens and going to the bar and weather. A sure formula for success, indeed (Sherlock Holmes influence)!