passing through my life.

Yesterday we dined at Wendy's. Sitting near the window was a rotund gentleman of considerable age and evident hard wear. So far, nothing wrong. This could be me.

He was attached to an oxygen tank, though, which I intend never to be. Well, still OK. Ill health is not something to blame on the victim, in general. But wait, he's wearing a T-shirt that says, POWERLIFTERS FOR CHRIST. I'm thinking, I hope Christ gets something out of the relationship, because I'm not convinced it's doing anything for the man.