Versions of this post lived in my Drafts folder a long time. Writing about one’s childhood crushes is multiply fraught. The topic of sexual attraction is challenging, especially these days as we try to evolve our attitudes about it. Getting personal skates the line between recording my scrawl and TMI. The risk of objectification is also a problem.
But those childhood crushes were formative and abiding in my youth. They began at an early age, a long bridge to when I started dating (real beats imaginary every time). Honesty to my past seems to demand I include some mention of them in any account of my life.
So this is to toast those early loves (real and imagined).
Recently I read 
For Sci-Fi Saturday I thought I’d mention how much I’ve enjoyed some recent Netflix original productions about robots (the very intelligent kind). As usual, I’m a little late to the party. For most people with Netflix, the post’s title probably immediately evoked either or both shows.
Death Watch. A vigil over a dying person. Waiting. Not knowing which tick of the clock brings change. Tick. This one? Tock. This one?
I woke early to the sound of thunder this morning. It was hot enough earlier in the week to force me back to enclosed air conditioning. Friday, I realized it had cooled off enough to open the windows again. I very much prefer breezes blowing through my place. The weather witches mis-predicted rain Friday and Saturday but got it right Sunday morning.
Logos con carne 