Woke up middle of the night. Cold and cranky. Shut the windows. Put the leftover spaghetti in the fridge, irritated about daughter leaving it out. Caught up on emails, Facebook, meetups, ride schedules and weather forecast, further annoyed by prospect of rainy morrow. Worked on and finally gave up on finding lost recent writing projects, including would-be post, “Little Black Dress.” Pissed off beyond belief. Facts can be restructured, but truth is lost with the details, poignancy gone with the wind.

Laid back down, drifting off, then the nocturnal cats create a ruckus, making it officially a lost night. Brewed some coffee, heated some pop-tarts, flipped the TV on in time for the morning news.

Tornado devastation in Oklahoma, 51 souls departed, scores missing, many of them children. Block after city block obliterated, countless left homeless and empty-handed, lives in shambles. Yeah, kind of puts things in perspective. Makes my pissing and moaning about trivial matters seem even more pathetic.

And there’s also the report of Zach Sobeich’s passing, a talented young man who handled an unfair fate with dignity and grace. Certainly more poignant than any lost-dream drivel spouted by this middle-aged man.


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