I have many things to write in the next day or two about the past couple of weeks. Trips to see Vienna Teng, Sondre Lerche, Willy Mason and the such; Easter Sunday spent with possibly every hispanic (and their 5 kids each) in Mont. County; my signing up for the Army Ten Miler and my view of training for a marathon as a profound life lesson.

And with all life lessons, we once again must deal with death. One of my favorite authors of all time, Kurt Vonnegut, died today, April 11th.

My first Vonnegut novel was Timequake and I fell in love. Not since Twain have I found anyone that lit up my imagination and helped me fall in love with humanity and our capacity for greatness, mediocrity and all that is despicable in the world…all in spite of the fact that none of us ever asked to have been born in the first place. In spite of that, we live. We hurt others, we get hurt, we love, we laugh, we look up to the sky in wonder, and we look into the eyes of another in an equal, if not greater, wonder. The best and worst of all mankind lives in our towns and cities…the decisions and responsibilities of life lie with us and only with us.

Thank you, Mr. Vonnegut. Kilgore Trout lives on, but we all know it’ll never be the same.

So it goes.

And one of my favorite Vonnegut quotes?

If you really want to disappoint your parents, and don’t have the heart to be gay, go into the arts.