First off, I have to tell you that Amy's doing much better now.  Life was uncomfortable around here for a while as we were ultra sensitive to her humors following the seizure.  This took a lot of my brainspace and head fuel, so a journal entry wasn't the fiery hot priority that it usually is.  I'm grateful for the kind notes many of you sent.  Your concern makes me feel not quite so detached from the world at large, the world that'll keep driving along at its own speed while you've got a blowout on the left front tire.  Anyway, the flat is fixed, well... patched anyway, and we seem to be back on the road.

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Viv was out on the road on business for the better part of this past week, slumming at a resort in Rancho Mirage, and keeping the movie biz solvent for yet another year.  I'd planned to accompany her while my mother-in-law stayed here at the stately manor to watch over Amy, but after the seizure none of us would've felt quite settled about that arrangement.

To coax even more sympathy out of you it would be easy for me to contrast my various recreational experiences and bills of fare over the last several days with those of my darling wife: me here tending to the sick little girl, cooking bland food for her, giving her medicine, soothing her complaints and calming her fears while Viv is off in the desert, dining by the golf course with studio heads, ordering room service shrimp cocktails, whooping it up at a Superbowl party deelux, getting massages and facials at the spa.  But for me to posture as a virile yet sensitive domestic hero here would be unbecoming and not in keeping with my character -- the posturing part, I mean.  The dancing, the Jacuzzis, the big basket of Belgian chocolates -- none of Viv's California desert getaway on the company dime figures into the nature of this report.  I'm bigger than that.  And it can be very damaging to make those kinds of comparisons.  I know it, you know it, the American People know it.

*****

Last night was the 23rd anniversary of the night Viv and I met.  This means that I, now almost 45 years old, have been in love with her for more than half of my life.  I look forward to the day Viv, who is considerably older than I, will be able to experience that same mathematical hump.  Imagine how thrilled she will be.  Imagine how thrilled she is right now reading this.  My guess is she's pondering the term "mathematical hump" at this very moment and will deliver the fruit of that deliberation personally upon her arrival home tonight.

*****

Okay, that's it for now.  Other projects await.  More better later.

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