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On the tenth day in the morning of the two thousand and twenty fifth year of the Lord, I experienced a significant occasion.

Well. My teeth did. Let me, then, share a bit of that with you, as by now you are surely, anxiously, craving to know about it.

For my setup here, I’ll give you the verbatim sentiments I presented to my dental team just prior to the start of said event:

“Today is my rendezvous with dental destiny, with Dr. Brad and his competent crew.

“Now, I’m really not worried, for they know just what to do.

“So, shoot me up and yank ‘em out, and if it hurts I’ll try not to shout.”

“Let the fun begin . . .”

Oh, my. Isn’t that the most clever endeavor in verse you’ve ever seen? Such talent. Such wit.

Attire. The conventional seasonal coordinated colors of clothing for a good portion of my life remained fairly consistent.

Not so any longer. Look at many of the TV anchor folks and in-the-field reporters. Short sleeves, even sleeveless shirts, in pastels and in white, even on very cold days, are more the norm than the exception, for the ladies.

The men, seen when there is a full shot of them while they are standing, often have on brown shoes with dark blue suits.

I could sort of segue into the seemingly in-vogue hair styles for men today. I could, but I won’t. If they like side whitewalls and top spikes, then it’s their choice.

Years from now, when their grandchildren see photos of these men, their reactions will probably be almost disbelief. As in “Grandpa! That’s YOU?”

Oh, well. So much for such important observations. I mean, I’ve got to come up with something for this column. Know what I mean?

May you and yours have a good weekend and coming week.

Peace.