I like to think of myself as an intelligent man at times, yet the Good Lord will always gently, sometimes humorously bring me down a step or two when I do. To give you a case of point, I enjoy reading quotes from others. I used to save them, but they have become so numerous, that I quit that.
I am sitting in a quiet bar at the Hilton in Adana, Turkey, with my little computer enjoying some quotes from Albert Einstein, when I came across a letter he wrote to a close friend of his in 1905, Conrad Habicht. His salutation was thus:
Dear Habicht, /Such a solemn air of silence has descended between us that I almost feel as if I am committing a sacrilege when I break it now with some inconsequential babble… / What are you up to, you frozen whale, you smoked, dried, canned piece of soul…?
Now, how can I compete with that? If I was going to write a letter to my good friend Grant, I would have simply wrote: Hey Griz-butt, how are you doing, you old fart?
See? No comparison. I have realized that intelligence lacks no humor.
Keep kicking butt. D.