My dear friend Mick Curran, bless his heart ...Stop right there.
Huh?
You've lived in the South too long. You know that saying "bless his heart" about someone nearly always precedes a negative comment about them.
It's better than "damn his eyes," isn't it?
A little.
Anyway, whenever I post anything on Facebook that is even remotely opinionated, you could win a lot of money in Las Vegas if they allowed you to bet on who is most likely to post "a discouraging word." Even when I post something that isn't an opinion -- something factual -- it's 8 to 5 Mick will disagree with it in some way.
Since we disagree on many more issues than we agree on, it makes sense that he would argue his points. Better yet, from his side of the political equation, is if he can discourage me from posting at all. That has been happening some of the time lately.
We have been friends for more than 48 years, and while I say to him that if we met now, we would have little in common, I know that our friendship will last till one of us dies. He will say the most outrageous things, such as that I have a very simplistic world view, but I take it with a grain of salt, bless his heart.
In some respects, namely job hunting, I could compare his experiences to being beaten like a rented mule ... or a redheaded stepchild. It has always been difficult for me to understand how someone so intelligent, so talented, could keep coming up short in job interviews. I mean, once he learned that he was expected to wear pants, he corrected that right away, bless his heart.
I'll always be one of his biggest fans, and his not making it bigger in Hollywood remains one of the two great mysteries of my life. That and why Leo Durocher and Joan Rivers were in Moscow, Idaho, together that particular winter.
Bless their hearts.
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