Similar to Michael’s story, I remember as a kid driving over a bridge in Alameda – on the way to Lake Tahoe for a short vacation with my family, in the 1970s – and seeing all the mothballed ships left over from World War II.

Rows and rows and even more endless rows of grey ships, stacked neatly next to one another as clean and austere as a freshly made Army bed: each with a story to tell undoubtedly…

What ever happened to them? Probably scrapped and the metal sold off to Red China to build their navy, courtesy of irresponsible, greedy U.S. leadership. If steel and iron could speak, I rather think there would be resounding protest for such heresy.

Per Michael’s discussion on writing, Tolstoy could recognize when he had written a masterpiece…

I have a shirt like Michael is wearing today. Same color too!