Breakfast of Infamy

I'm probably not the person who should be writing about this. But, I feel I need to say something about it.

By now they're getting ready to have a memorial over in Dallas. Maybe some folks will head over to the Historic Texas Theater to watch Oliver Stone's version of events. My friend Red was thinking of driving by Rose Hill Cemetery to see how many people were visiting Oswald's grave, which isn't too far away from where I'm writing this.

On my first trip to Dallas my friends and soon to be friends were amusing themselves by reenacting the events of Dealey Plaza. Before moving to Texas I even went to the 6th Floor Museum.

I guess what I'm trying to get at is how strange it is to me that an event that happened before I was born seems to have such a hold over this place. It has such a terrible gravity that it affects everybody's orbits, pulling at us whether we give a damn or not.

The one who should be writing about this is Dr. Mila. Her father was there.

Me? I think I want to celebrate my birthday by complaining about my eggs and using BAAAD language