White Man Walking (Because He Sure Can't Dance)

I have nothing nothing to go with the above. I was walking home after dropping my wife at her job this morning, and the first part came into my head. And I thought, "Where is this going?" (I mean, where is it going in terms of generating words growing to thoughts to cogency you know. Duh!) And then the second part came to mind, and I thought, "That's as far as it goes. Use it or lose it."

Because baby I can dance, though I'm strictly ballroom.

Anyway, my little word flurry sounds like the title to a collection of something. Personally, I think it's as good or better than George Carlin's "When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?" a title that does not draw me to the book.

So, we got an email about a meeting soon to be convened at our local Baptist Church to deal with the fact that as our neighborhood has staged its comeback over the last decade, among the throngs newly drawn to it are quite a few homeless people. The title of the email was "The homeless in our midst."

And I thought, "The Homeless in the Mist," which evoked the image of them huddled like waifs or rising up like zombies.

I need a third something. Remember the Rule of Three. We're going to visit my mum-in-law soon and with some luck she will talk about something being "half-faced," as is her wont. Mum: "What a half-faced thing to do!"

My wife's not going to tell her. I'm not going to tell her. This white man's going to keep walking, all the way back to where this little piece began.