No, I just feel that way.

“Eight million Americans admit they send themselves Valentine’s Day gifts—they may feel lonely and unloved but at least they will get something nice.”

“Pathetic, no?” she asked.

“Pitiful, yes,” I agreed.

And then I remembered the new camera I recently ordered from a dealer in Washington. For reasons too tedious to recount, I had it shipped to Juanita’s studio; it’s supposed to arrive tomorrow. What if Juanita read the same article that Samantha cited? She’d probably think I was even more pathetic and pitiful, that’s what.

Before I had too much time to consider that possibility, Juanita called to tell me that my package had arrived a day early, before Valentine’s Day.

Whew!

My dumb luck continues. That’s good; if it wasn’t for dumb luck, I’d have no luck at all.

A thousand people. A thousand pillows. Fight! A zillion feathers furiously flying, and no one got hurt.

What a great formula, especially since it’s so simple. Pillows. Fight. Pillow fight!

I agree, so I’ll stop writing now.

I recalled that I’d written about the subject some time ago, so I asked my computer to show Karen my three meanings of life. When Karen saw the 16 February 1998 date of the notebook entry, she seemed incredulous.

“You mean you’ve known the meanings of life for exactly ten years?!” she asked.

Those were her words, but the implicit message was different. She seemed incredulous that I’d done so little with my purported knowledge.

As is the case with most if not all of my thoughts, my paper airplane idea wasn’t original. Japanese engineers are planning on tossing paper airplanes from the International Space Station. It could work: University of Tokyo researchers flew paper airplanes at seven times the speed of sound in heat some fifteen degrees higher (Celsius) than the temperature at which paper combusts. Thus their origami contraptions may not technically be paper airplanes, but the concept is essentially the same.

High on a mountain, I’ve envisioned a paper airplane sailing for five minutes or longer before disappearing into the valley below. The Japanese scientists estimate it will take a number of months for the small planes to land after being tossed from the orbiting space station. The odds are astronomical, no pun intended, but perhaps I might see one of the Japanese planes fly overhead while hiking on Mount Rainier.

I thanked Marisha for introducing me to those postmarital words, and thanked her by expanding her premarital vocabulary. When I was living with Leslie’s daughter without the benefit of legal matrimony, he cheerfully referrred to me as his sin-in-law. I always liked Leslie, even though he’s now an out-law.

“We found that clowns are universally disliked by children,” reported Penny Curtis. “Some found them quite frightening.”

I applaud this research, it’s my favorite flavor of science: confirmation of virtually a priori knowledge.

A pox on clowns everywhere!