Mic check...

Today I am reminded that language is fluid, like a river. The older it gets the more it meanders where it wishes. Attempts to restrain or redirect this natural tendency are usually perceived by the river as hubris sprinkled with irony and therefore ripe for a comeuppance.

In other news, I'm glad to report that I live in one of the higher elevations of my very damp community but some of my friends aren't so lucky. For them I offer a little bit of Johnny, with sympathy.

How high's the water, Mama?