I think fingerpainting is the order of the day. Bright primary colors. swirling shapes and funny figures. Not a day for the pastels of sidewaly chalk.
     My wife was reading from Max Lucado this morning about "Bad". And how that simple word has so many different meanings for everyone. And how the meaning changes in application to the unchanging events in our lives. 
     Altogether too long ago I thought that not being able to stay up late was bad. History tests were bad. Puberty was bad. Lawrence Welk was bad. School was bad. Parents were bad.
     Often in the more recent past I thought life was bad. It didn't give me what I felt I deserved. People were bad because they didn't agree with me or didn't do things I felt they should. Others did what I thought they should but didn't do it my way, so they were bad also. People that did things my way were bad because they were spineless or couldn't think for themselves. Nope - you couldn't win. Bad, bad, bad.
     Today all these very same things happen every day. And they aren't bad at all. To me. Today. Maybe being my being judgemental is bad. Maybe my thinking that I am the center of the known universe is bad. Maybe my demanding that I get everything I want is bad.
     I guess it is all just a matter of perception, isn't it?
     The world will not stop turning if I stop cranking. This is not a bad thing (especially for everyone else). A not bad thing for this drunk to remember...

Nuff said,
Dennis