Yesterday, Flop the Zero Phone, after a mere year of faithful if retarded service, fell from the palsied hand of this old crumb. Held together by packaging tap, he is deaf, can make calls, that can be heard, but cannot hear himself.
By March 2nd, I should have a replacement. Until then, for my few dozen readers and training partners that keep touch by phone, I can only text.
I would like to take this time to remember Ron, a nice, clean homeless man, who walked two miles to get Kelly, Mike and Me a case of beer on Superbowl Sunday and was in the habit of protecting civilian women form the tweaker army here in Southeast Portland.
Thanks, Ron. Sorry you died alone.
Holgate, Portland, 2/20/24
