I enjoyed your rueful, woeful, melancholic and nostalgic trip down memory lane. I do that often the older I get.

Once, I began writing my autobiography; but after a dozen pages I realized it was a bunch of shit and that nobody would believe it — even though I have the scars as proof.

My son found the manuscript and decided to make it a biography with me filling in the blanks. After another dozen pages he quit because he didn’t believe a word of it.

Basically I did in life what you implied… and that was to push whatever button I found that made something nice happen in my life. From time to time I pushed the wrong one, but it seemed to have turned out okay — so far, at least.

But I do still have this runny ear.

Good luck on the roofing job. Remember, your pal spells his name Rufus and not Roofus for a reason.

— George