Time to build some rustic benches. Or maybe, work on some communications consulting.(That last choice has its own website, highnoonforge.com, where I do my Marketing Communications consulting).

What matters are the infinitesimal nooks and crannies, the whispy intangibles that seem to swirl between the sky and the rocks, the wind and the depths, the craters and the stars.

That said, good food, good drink, good exercize, adequate spelling, good friendship. Communication is everything.

Father, husband, son, brother, writer, singer, banjo player. Marketer, publicizer, songwriter, arranger, dog confiner, dog-freedom advocate, humorist, tragedist, reader, explorer.

Former lawn mower, snow plower, house framer, trim carpenter, green waterer, condo maintainer, playground builder, theater ticket taker, popcorn popper, fisheries technician, distillery consultant, home brewer, Peace Corps volunteer. Z liker.

World traveler. Lived in Colorado, Virginia, California, Visayas. Speaks Spanish, French, Cebuano, and slang slinger.

His little sister gave him a banjo. It was stolen from the back of his ’71 Datsun 510 Hatchback on Canal St. in New York City in 1977. His big sister gave him another banjo. He’s still playing that one. There’s a middle sister too.  He gave her a broken golf cart. Fond of “Wishnevskys”, which are acoustic-guitarlike instruments made from recycled 19th-Century pianos. Wrote the hit song “Tarzan #19,” a casting fantasy which includes this verse: “I’m going to be a man with strength and style, a man who walks a camel for a mile, a man who talks to lions, who has no fear of dyin’, who hasn’t had a haircut for a while.” The ’71 Datsun? Has an honored place in the ’71 Datsun Museum of the Mind. It’s the blue one.