Music and memories (but no martinis)

It's almost 1 a m., and I'm listening to one of those Jackie Gleason records that reminds me I was born too late. 

Time on my hands, and you in my arms...

Those Gleason records sound really good on my 1960 Montgomery Ward hi-fi. Look one up on YouTube. They're relaxing.  

I don't know where all this nostalgia stuff comes from, but it's a sincere thing. This song reminds me of slow dancing with my prom date. Those were the days...

My buddy Bill brought by a couple of books. Both by John D. MacDonald. It was a nice surprise. Bill is a thoughtful chap. 

Got together with my friend and former Spanish teacher Señor Doug Bright on Tuesday night. We ended up at Downtown Grill. He told me about his recent family vacation and I talked about what I usually talk about -- girls and music. 

Wednesday night, Bill, Jim, Robert, and I went to Asia Kitchen. Those guys are the greatest. We laughed and talked and I tried not to get sesame chicken on my clothes. 

I'm going to try to write these ditties when I feel like I can. I miss writing, and it helps my health to talk a little bit through the written word.

It also helps me feel better when I can listen to music. I can just see Gleason, the Great One, conducting his orchestra. It's perfect for a late night benediction.

Time on my hands, and you in my arms...