The last few days have been an eye opener. Yes, I’m shading the words and yes, I’m cautious, wary still waiting for the wrecking ball to swing back, it has to, you know, oscillatory motion. Cainer in his impeccably accurate forecast had written about being shoved off a high cliff and just about managing to grasp a shrub, branch, whatever, to break the fall. And so it was. And so it was. After being shaken, punched, hammered at, I crumbled like the boxer in the corner but stumbled up again. How many times must one sit with one’s head held high regardless, reinvent the wheel --and why? Is this the only alternative? Why is this  the only alternative? If one knows oneself, and as one inches closer to the half-century mark surely one ought to know oneself, one begins to wonder at the predictability of events and the fault of one’s passive participation in their coming to a close, such a close. As the parent used to say, you cannot teach an old horse new tricks.