Neglect, Thy Name is Howdy

This is a brief post aimed especially at The Faithful Ones — and You know who You are — who tune in to this site to see if Mr. Jay has anything to Say. (He Hasn’t. Not since February 21. Ouch. Chastened, which, English being the odd language that it is, has little to do with chastity. For whatever that’s worth. And if I continue with this tangled paranthesis, you may never wish to dial Howden again. So I’ll stop. Real soon.)

It’s been dry. I’ve been busy. Life has happened. Blah blah blah. But I am going to get back in the cyber saddle over the next few days. I actually have some fresh (ish) writing to post, mainly stuff from the weekly column I spastically thrash together for my hometown weekly, The Grand River Sachem. (That’s its real name.) It’s all over the map, but some of it might be worth looking at again, especially since Son the Eldest just found two fairly senseless statements in a recent meditation on Barack Obama and the meaning of American life.

So look down, and with any luck, you’ll see some bits with “March” in the dateline that weren’t there before. They’ll be a little out-of-date, but they still pass the smell test for me.

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