Curly has been giving us major fits lately. He really needs some inpatient assistance and is in denial of his issues. Yesterday he ran away. He didn't go far - he has no money, no car, very few friends. (He's alienated his old buddies, and it's really sad. Most of his current friends are drug buddies.) Fortunately, he wandered back home about 6 am this morning. It was cold and I think it was hard last night for him. Reality bites.
He's been more cheerful today, and a bit more contrite. I'm not sure how long - or if - it will last. But it was nice to have him be funny a bit, instead of yelling or worrying.
Actual conversation between me and Curly a few minutes ago:
Me: Why are both your hands in your pants?Curly can be very, very funny.
Curly: Dude, I'm holding my balls.
Curly: I'm a guy, it's what we do. Besides, some evil hawk might come and snatch them.
Today as I was coming home from the grocery, I heard an NPR broadcast of this group of songs in a White House concert. I was singing along the whole time. John Mellancamp sang "Eyes on the Prize", and I was belting it driving home.
When they got to this song, I was singing through tears. It's a great song. I can't sing this song without crying. I am such a sap.
But doesn't Joan Baez look great?