A friend, that's more actually of a friend of a friend, had three brain tumors removed from his head. He thinks it's time for him to write his memoirs.

I guess he doesn't type or maybe he can't – now, so I was asked to install voice recognition software onto his laptop computer, to make sure every thing was working I trained it to my voice, despite my Boston accent it recognized what I was saying.

I would rather learn to type, though, if that were a possibility.

…

I've forgotten the good stuff for my memoirs.

There are still times I'll read a name in the newspaper, someone accepting some higher position somewhere, and I'll say to myself "Hey, I know them."

…But that was long ago.


…

Someone else told me today that they have never seen me mad.

"I wish I had your demeanor" she said.

I offered no reply.

…

She came in at seven, walked behind that bar and said hello to the other bartenders and before she was completely finished with her greetings she stopped and announced "It smells like a douche in here."

I don't know if she actually made eye contact with the patron that was directly in front of her or not as she was making her statement but he put the cover back on the malt vinegar and started using the ketchup for his fries.