I studied in various schools for 16 years, but got my real education in the Navy, I was thrown together with people from all over the country and learned that even crazy people can get the job done when put under military discipline. During my enlistment I lived in a poor foreign country for a year and learned it doesn’t take much money to be happy. Every so often a fellow sailor, always someone I didn’t know, would sidle up and ask if I knew the Lord. I’m a Catholic, was my answer. Your question is redundant and embarrassing. I didn’t say that. I just mumbled something that made him feel his mission was accomplished and he would sidle away. Since I got out of the service decades ago no one has asked me about my knowledge of the Lord, until last Monday outside the Super One grocery store. As I walked toward my car I could see a woman loading bags into the back of her car while a tall skinny kid, her son I thought, talked to her. But when she was done, she drove off and he turne
"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness...”--John Keats, To Autumn