My Friend

Goodbye, old friend, sitting out there by the curb all alone in the rain.  We spent many pleasant hours together over the past 50 years, but now it is time for me to move on (no pun intended).

I remember you in those days past.  You were very stylish in your blue color and I truly admired your big five-gallon flush.  But blue is so 1950s, and your five-gallon flush seems too extravagant in today’s ecology.  It would be unfair of me to ask you to change; I know you can’t.

I have found someone new who gives me great pleasure.  Please understand from my viewpoint.  Her slim body and elegant white complexion that I love to touch in no way diminishes my appreciation for all that you have given me, your comforting coolness in the middle of the night at those times I was feeling my worst.  You selflessly accepted whatever I threw at you.

I wish you well.  My fervent hope is that archeologists in the unimaginable future will find you and restore you to your former magnificence and you will reside in a place of honor for new generations to admire, a shining symbol of the elegance of our time.

Goodbye, old friend (. . . sniff).

The trash men will arrive shortly.

About Roger Walck

My reasons for writing this blog are spelled out in the posting of 10/1/2012, Montaigne's Essays. They are probably not what you think.
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