Okay, the Cowboy Boots Were a Stretch

Yesterday’s overflowing optimism for bounding out of bed this particular morning to go kick some ass and take some names was met with a quiet dose of reality.

With all due respect to the memory of the great guitar player Jerry Reed, I wasn’t listening to Amos Moses or when You’re Hot You’re Hot at five this morning while going through my chemo regimen.

No, I was clicking on to the livestream from the Beach Bar in Cruz Bay, St. John, USVI listening to the mild surf breaking onto the shore waiting for the sun to come up there, or anywhere, for that matter.

A year ago today we sat on that grey stone wall looking out at the bay waiting for the ferry to St. Thomas and the plane ride home to Philadelphia. We decided that life was good regardless of the temporary setbacks and worth living.

Life is still good in many ways. I’m just finding it harder to reach that goodness when most needed.

Tomorrow morning I take the train into the city to get a quick assessment for what is going on here and they will probably give me an ‘Oh, pshaw! Why are you even here?!!’ admonition.

Or, not.

We have been to this surprise test result rodeo before.

In the meanwhile, here is just a little bit of St. John which may help restore some overflowing optimism in one’s life.

Perhaps some Jerry Reed now?