Water, water everywhere but not a pump working to drain the tank. The mastery of grading situations is time-honored and like exercising your immune system, a life task that pleads for more practice. We walk like a man, talk like a man but skip the part about writing love songs in deference to Pegleg the Polepacker. It's now confirmed that I'm hooked on Rory Gilmore who cordons off the last of the day's remnants before lights out and the pillowtop parthenon takes over as the center stage. The scanner tracing my skeletal shock absorbers hastened thoughts of "Uh-oh". We remember centenarians but have to work up an expired salute to the good who died young. Goin' on 20 years since two applause-worthy comrades exited too soon. I can still can take tomorrow, dip it in a dream separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream. Lucky, lucky man.