Back in the Saddle Again

I never expected so many people to drop in to sympathize with me on the death of my wife. I read and appreciated all the comments. I accepted all the hugs and back pats I could get. I am not ashamed that I cried a lot.

Many times in the past when some of you were having a particularly bad time, Old Hoss has offered "counsel," which consisted largely of this: When you can't do something about something, let it go. Say to yourself, "So it goes," and get on with your life. So, so it goes. Thank you, all.

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Several days after my wife died, my chum Feelgood Haines, a veteran of the Old and Wizened People's Home where we live, came down to see how I'm getting along.

Hoss: "I'm okay now."
Feelgood: "Well, you're kinda lucky, you know."
Hoss: "How's that?"
Feelgood: "You and your wife could look back on some good times. When Lot's wife died, she was turned into a salt lick for camels. You wouldn't want that."

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Hoss: "Tell me, Feelgood. You think there's a Heaven?"
Feelgood: "Well, there either is, or there isn't."
Hoss: "You're pretty deep, philosophically."
Feelgood: "The hell. Don't you remember? It was you who told me that."

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Feelgood: "Well, anyway, Hoss, it could have been worse."
Hoss: "How's that?"
Feelgood: "What if God died?"

(Hoo boy. Feelgood 1, Holy Ghost 0.)

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My favorite word today is shirtsweat. Adj., kind of like a sweatshirt. Def.: Descriptive of men who like to prove anti-perspirants don't work.