C Note(s)

I had a moment of clarity recently. Call it a sudden truth, or insofar an epiphany, but I am my father's son. You see, I learned the value of complaining early on as a young man. It's zero by the way. I remember the day too. One fall afternoon after a particularly challenging day at school and after-school activities, my dad asked me how my day was. I literally launched into this diatribe that he quickly grew tired of listening to and frustrated with it. I continued at length. Finally, he abruptly cuts me off. "Son. Instead of dwelling on all the wrongs done to you, and counting them up." I can tell he's completely exasperated with me. "Why don't you use your high-powered perception, and fond ability to count up your blessings?" I fall silent as I tally up my blessings. He groans, "Out loud, Los. What's your blessings? What's your first one?" Me: "Well, I'm alive. And I have everything I started with so that'...