Square Kick in the Balls.

Spoke with an old swim team friend, (a teddy bear), in suburban New England over the holidays... a graduate from MIT in electrical engineering, Phi Beta Kappa, he still works at the Renova Factory in Smithfield, RI, cutting sheet metal with his bare hands(gloves actually)... literally churning widgets, eating microwave popcorn on break... takes care of a simple local woman, through the thick and thin... His cable bill was well overdue, so we had to listen to the Pats/Jets on Score 101.8(a noisy frequency). I've taken a liking to calling him 'Peanuts', since grade school. He is vastly more intelligent than me, because he has more robust civilized and uncivilized experience and is not hampered by clinical diagnoses of the DSM IV depressive/OCD type. In this current life, he chose the path of humility over meglomania (gods bless him); although 23.6 centuries ago, he traveled with the greatest of philosphers along the Mediterranean... and his most recent excursion as a sentient fool, was as a minor scribe for the ever so brash and romantic T.E. Lawrence, yes, of Aramaic Fame... He instructed Lawrence's every political move, and told Lawrence, 'If you ever mention my name, or wisdom to any reporter, I will kill you...' Peanuts has always called me, 'Kid', because I think too much and lose sleep. He said, in the next cycle, I'll get it right, but for now, I will suffer without a moment's peace, until I die again. Visiting him in Albion was nice. I dropped his ladyfriend's baking sheet upon his triangular cookie platter, and we laughed when it proved the existence of a circle...