Raisin Box Lore

I really like raisins. I eat them for a snack at work most every afternoon. My Sun-Maid raisins box bears this advice on its lid: Don't get lost, get directions. I'll have to think about that. I'm heading full speed toward 39 thinking and so it begins: the mid-life crisis. There's a deep urge to recalculate, reevaluate, and restate various facets of my life; box up the books, the records, and compact discs, throw out my closet and start anew. Flip everything around and see how it stands just to face facts: odds are good that half my life is over. Done. Finished. The choices are multi-plex multiple screenings with elements of reversion and conversion all vying for my attention. And then Liam learns how to say "yum". Harper gets a goal in her last soccer game of the year. Emmy gets all A's on her 1st grade report card. The Soulfish wife looks more beautiful than ever. I receive an email out of the blue complimenting this blog. Jones Violet finds herself singing a song I wrote. So the mid-life crisis comes to a halt before it does much damage. Though I still have a nagging compulsion to buy a red car.