Dr. John graveled, “I been in the right place but it must have been the wrong time.” He’s ringing in my ears ‘cause its Mardi Gras. The plum flatness of the moment doesn’t escape me. The juicy incoherence dribbles down my cheek. I’d like to know the time like HE knows the time. Speaking aloud today with a salt-n-pepper ‘froed intellectual, I said I needed to fall back on my social life. Don’t do it. Reconsider. He urged me to read the literature his genius been assimilated in tandem with love and life. He cited too many, himself, and other who still suffer the solitude of those who lock themselves in library carrels. Be rigorous about your time, he counseled. I been in the right place and it must have been the right time. Truth is, I’ve been in a lot of right places and they didn’t order my world. Not sure if I failed or they did. But I do know that I crave vulnerability and close talk. And I don’t like being alone. I don’t know how to remake this moment but I’m inclined to think that I must try. Giving thanks for the season and the advice.