SUNDAY

Today I realized that there is simply no reason why I should enjoy watching someone getting hit in the face by someone who is wearing a boxing glove but for some reason I find it to be an elixir.

Today I realized that you could write about the sound of a boxing glove all day long and it still wouldn't be the sound of a boxing glove.

Today I admitted that there is nothing worse than watching someone getting hit in the face without a boxing glove.

Today I realized that I don't like the sight of someone getting hit in the face with a boxing glove, but it is a very nice sound.

Today I thought that maybe, just maybe, the sound of a boxing glove is a little bit like the sound of a Model T Ford starting up, just as the engine turns over for the first time.

Today I realized that there is no reason to write all day long about the sound of a boxing glove–even if I did, I think it wouldn't get any closer than just somewhere near the sound of a Model T starting up and turning over for the first time.

Today I realized that the odds of me ever starting up a Model T are pretty much zero. But I realized also that those are probably the same odds of anyone ever starting up a Model T. This didn't make me happy or unhappy.

Today I admitted that thinking about Model Ts, though, generally make me happy. After all, why not? How about you?

Today I hoped that someday I will receive a letter in the mail from someone who says: "You're wrong about the odds–I am starting up a Model T even as we speak."

Today I hoped that there would be a one cent stamp on the letter and that it will be from someone far, far away and that it would be years before I realized that the letter wasn't addressed to me at all.

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