Meanwhile, my friend
I'm eager to hit the law library today to research something abstruse, beside the point, and altogether fascinating.
On the way to work this morning, Crystal Gayle, speaking on the radio, assured me that half of my love was not what she's after. Suddenly, writing that, I flash on childhood Saturdays getting my hair cut in the barber shop in Gurdon, Arkansas, listening to old men as they speculate about the "get rich quick in earthworm farming" ads in the back of Field and Stream, discuss blue tick hounds and favored trucks, and as they pause to watch the Porter Waggoner twangy country western music show on the television, saying reverentially "that Dolly Parton....what a woman".