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Your mother’s maiden name 0

Yo Shaw,

            I’m having one of those days. Trying to figure things out, you know, everything, all of it. Why can I count by ones, twos, fives and tens but not sixteens or seventeens? Meanwhile, life’s too technical for me, too complicated. I can’t keep up. There are too many things to think about: social security number, driver’s license, tax forms, credit cards, passport, bills, keys, wallet, business cards, deodorant, soap, shampoo, toothpaste, tweezers… If it had been up to me to invent the wheel, we’d all still be walking.

            Heck, it’s enough trouble waking up in the morning and filling my pockets with all the things I need that day and I always forget something. What I need is more patience. (Too bad I can’t put that in my pocket.)  Then there’s the Internet. Every other month somebody convinces me to sign up for something new. First it was hotmail, then gmail, and after that myspace, facebook, twitter. There’s no end to the passwords, usernames, addresses, security questions, and requests for your mother’s maiden name.

            Will it ever end? Of course not. And that’s my point = life is too complex for me. As it is, I can’t keep up. What’s it gonna be like fifteen years from now? You know me, I was the guy hundreds of thousands of years ago who argued with the guy who entered the cave with a burning stick and said, “Look, everyone. Fire. Now we can cook our food, keep warm and protect ourselves.”

            I don’t know what to think anymore, Shaw, even though I’m thinking about things. Trying to figure it out, you know, everything, all of it.

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