WILL A BOOMER NEVER BE DONE

I'm within a few paragraphs of finishing the first rough draft of "Tom Brokaw's Identity Crisis", but today was tired again and couldn't close on the last transition paragraphs, leading to climactic paragraphs. Am not sleeping from excitement of heading over to PIFF at odd times. My schedule is thrown to the four winds. 

Also am currently writing an article for The Vancouver Vector about art house theaters in general with a nod to the Kiggins Theatre in Vancouver. As they describe themselves: 

"Vancouver's historic cinema
completely renovated.
Community focused
independently minded."


The final two paragraphs of my essay on Brokaw and identity crisis as they now stand are as follows:

"From where I sit on the Moon, I now know and accept that few of those old timers will ever leave the comforting campfire. They sat around it as children and sit around it still. It’s never too late to change—I know that. Maybe one or two will see the light before they pass into final darkness, but, for the greater number of them, it’s too late. For my pal of college days…that really makes me sad.  

"When my sadness about my friend grows to much to bear, I can also escape. All members of the human family need safe havens and escape routes. What I do is circle the little Moon planet where I’m situated in my imagination. I go to the far side away from Earth, to the dark side of the Moon. Once there, I lift my gaze to the Cosmic distances. My gaze is filled with stars and my heart is tugged by their gravity!"