I wrote a joke once, to the effect that I’ve been talking through this loudspeaker I found in my crib 82 years ago and just now notice it’s not plugged in!  Except it wasn’t and isn’t a joke.  What’s missing is the connection.  I think I became a psychotherapist to have somebody to talk to.

Here I sit alone at my computer which says it’s 7:09 p.m. Sunday October 15, 2017, eating chocolate ice cream.   Is all right with the world?  Is that a line from a poem? Some things are called rhetorical but I must be misspelling it because i can’t find it in the dictionary. When I dip into the meanings of retort I find cold comfort:  to hurl back, to retaliate, to hurl the first speaker’s words back at him. Oh, there it is…rhetorical question: a question asked merely for effect with no answer expected.  Well, that’s kind of a waste of time, isn’t it?

NOW I remember how I got off on this topic! Earlier tonight I  read the blog post Forming Attachments and Bonds, by