Yes, I vaguely remember that you were obsessing on that song "A Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall," which was taught to us by some guest some time during high school, and which really does become very tedious after maybe 10 bottles, remembering that one has to repeat nearly the same thing ad nauseum to finally get to the hundredth bottle, and then so what? And then why does it have to be beer bottles? What about the Coca Cola bottling factory that was one of our field trips during high school? I prefer to think about the Dr. Pepper bottles we used to have in the refrigerator during furlough in Modesto, Califonia, which had the little circles with maybe 2, 4 and 6, possibly suggestive of a Dr. Pepper drinking schedule. I don't know. It wasn't clear. But even so, I would prefer to drink Dr. Pepper.
Coincidentally, all this talk about the Stones is really getting on my nerves. I haven't seen them since 1976, and, yes, what's to remember? All we heard was that Kenton had married some Catholic girl unknown to us and that was the only thing that we heard about that. Who was I explaining this point to?
And now that I have done a little bit of research on this person, I am reminded that you were chattering about beer bottles. Oh! So Kent's wife was a beer bottle baby. And where are the beer bottle grandchildren? And how is that my problem? I don't know anything about those people. I have not the slightest connection there, although far be it from me to comment publicly on matters that might affect the food supply. Sounds complicated. Better to let them figure it out for themselves without me having to be bothered about matters of no concern to me.
