Why I Am Not a Buddhist
By Charles Bernstein
Reality cons me as it spur(n)s me.
This is the road to eternal
Consanguinity, eloping with
Hope and leaving me to pick
Up the proverbial bag.
But that's the argument for.
I rushed to get various work and chores done early on Monday -- it was colder than the weekend but too gorgeous not to take a walk, and it was a Kate and Leopold sort of day to fold laundry -- because the indoor track banquet was held at Adam's school in the evening. Some pictures:
Adam with his varsity letter certificate for indoor track and his scholar-athlete award for maintaining an A average while on the team.
Adam and a friend (in school colors) getting food from the potluck...
...and eating it (the boys and girls always seem to sit segregated at the sports banquets).
Adam making his senior speech...
...and posing with the other seniors on the track team.
Getting a hug along with the equipment bag all the seniors received.
Getting a handshake from the coach along with a pin for the varsity letter (since son already has a letter, he has received pins to mark subsequent sports achievements).
Here are the team members who received varsity letters, pins, and certificates.
We got home in time to see most of the season premiere of Dallas, which remains a joy forever. Pure soap, everyone cheating on and backstabbing everyone, lots of Sue Ellen! I am a bit ashamed that I love this more than Downton Abbey, but not nearly ashamed enough to stop watching.