I’m terribly discouraged at the collapse of a code base I’ve been developing for months. I can’t seem to find a solution to fixing it and my brain wants to be developing more, not repairing and restoring.

Maybe I’m getting too old for this stuff? Perhaps I should give up coding and focus my efforts on other creative outlets, like writing and photography. I’ve written so many apps that don’t get seen by hardly anyone, including these latest, that now don’t work…

Sorry about this depressed post, soon I’ll be soaking in a new hot springs and I’ll put up some photos.

Perhaps in the meantime, I should recall a story. It was late sixties and I’d just had my tonsils removed at a hospital in Oroville, Ca. I walked out of the place with a raw cut up throat and hitchhiked to Sacramento on the back of a crotch-rocket. I showed up at my grandparents house, near death from the polluted air blasting against my throat, and they let me crash on their couch until I was well.

My grandfather, who I now believe is my guardian angel, drove me to a southbound freeway exit and dropped me off. I was heading down to Arizona to try out with the S.F. Giants for a pro baseball career. The last thing I said to him as I stepped away from his car was pray for me.

I got side-tracked in a small central California town visiting a girlfriend that I’d met earlier that year working at a Harrah’s in South Lake Tahoe, the one I discovered the Secret Beach south of Carmel, CA with, and called my grandparents.

Grandpa had driven home after dropping me off, went in his backyard to mow the yard, and dropped dead in the process. I bailed on Arizona, went back for the funeral, and my life after that is a blur of LSD induced unreality for a while…

And now I look out at my out of control yard, being about the same age as my grandfather when he died, and say screw it!

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