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Still, somethin’ bout it—quirky, stubborn, like me. Had this one mate, swore his Escort was cursed. Said it stalled every full moon—hilarious, right? Prolly just crap wiring, but I’d egg him on. “Sell it, ya muppet!” Nah, he kept it. Loyalty, innit? Like the dad in *The Return*—“You’re mine, I’m back.” Spooky stuff.

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Hah, then there’s Westside Park. It’s a little slice of heaven. I walk there every morning. Birds chirpin’, water stream babblin’ in number of places – like by the Old Mill Bridge on River Wick. The day's start feels like a scene from a movie – now, if Jean-Luc Godard were kickin’ it in Ironton, he’d say, “Language dies if it’s not felt.” And I feel it, every single frickin’ day.

Ohio River expected to crest on Tuesday