Diary 87

Saturday, June 13th

Today was my beloved wife’s birthday – something she shares with Queen Elizabeth, although I think my wife is infinitely more important, at least to me.  Croissants and coffee, scrambled eggs, cake with a side of berries, and a candle – just one to demonstrate that age is simply a random construct – hand-drawn and painted cards from grandchildren, electronic messages of all kinds, and much love and happiness.

A sadder note is that Atlanta police officers shot and killed an African American man. The Police Chief resigned. A restaurant was burned.

At West Point Bonespurs addressed the graduating officers and gave a military type salute. He, who so signally failed to serve.