Be. Ats. Wal. King.

A lifetime ago, I walked down North River Road to get to the school bus.  Each day, year after year, I noted Ernies boat.  He had it up on drydock at the end of his driveway. Every day I read the name on the back of his boat. Be. Ats. Wal. King.

After four years of staring at that stern every day as I walked to and from the bus, I finally GOT IT.

Be  ats

Wal  king.

Beats Walking.

I remembered it this week when I was doing rounds at the hospital. A young girl wore a T-shirt. It said that Cally was for Nia.

“Who the hell is Nia?” I asked myself, “and why is Cally for her?”

After about the fourth time of passing her in the hall, I realized it said Cali, not Cally.




Another Homer moment: “Doh!”