It seems there is a race, of one kind or another -of pace, to slow down or speed up at any given time.  Some walk then run, others run then walk, and the slowdowns are really ribbing my side.  As Joel says in tune, no matter it’s month of croon, ‘in the forest green,’ even a boater world it be.  For when I offered full price, my broker balked at least twice, and told me no one would ever do that.  And then for second, my directions were pleasant, and I told my broker to say sold and let the seller choose the price.  A ninety-year old can, who cared for the vessel from the mere thoughts of a man, and for thirty years a bridegroom, evermore and and with pride.  I was told that I was crazy, a range to choose only the highest, what fool would ask for anything less, all my consigliere against my gut, I failed to perform.  

 

    And for what of yet, who knows, I am flying without contract, to meet my boat’s float,  who seems to have graduated from his required school of thought, broker 101, and at least 2-4, the valedictorian, no doubt.  Convenience and honor don’t go hand-in-hand, but they can.  No breaches humans cannot agree upon, I am just waiting to meet the old man.  I should have fired -my man,... long ago, unless at a funeral.  Long live the handshake! and...  May God Bless All

 

p.s.  I love cards

 

Hal Yeah

Sunday, mat 22, 2011

1:15 pm Chicago, USA