Day of the Fudgesicle ...

Mostly sunny, a little breeze, eighty degrees out there right now. Easy to understand why people love Hawaii, where it's like this most of the year round ...

Having already walked dogs and gone for a ride in the drop-top, I am home again and feeling fine.

For some reason, today brings up two late-spring happenings from my checkered past. They aren't Earth-shaking deals, but I remember them both with great fondness.

First: About thirty years ago, I walked into a 7-Eleven store in Baton Rouge. A pair of teenaged girl in shorts and halter tops came down the aisle toward me. One of them had a bottle of Coke in her hand. When they drew even with me, one to either side, they stopped, and the one with the Coke held it up, as if offering it to me.

I took the bottle from her, swigged from it, smiled, and handed it back. Both girls smiled, and they went on their way, I on mine. Nobody said a word. Never saw either of them again, but I recall that as one of my most spontaneous-ever actions. Yeah, the Coke might have been spiked with LSD or she might have had some horrible communicable disease, but in the moment, it was absolutely the right thing to do. Back in the day when we still thought the Age of Aquarius was just around the corner ...

Second sunny day memory: A year ago, my wife and I were returning from the local Safeway, having bought some groceries. Included in these was a box of fudgesicles. (The generic version, which still tastes like the ones I grew up eating.) Dianne was driving and I was very much enjoying one of these fudge bars when a car pulled alongside on our right and the woman driving said, "Boy, that sure looks good!"

I grinned, pulled another one from the box, and as we rolled down the road, I tossed it in her direction. She stuck her left out and snagged in on the fly, which was a major-league catch -- but just how it was supposed to go. She smiled, yelled "Thank you!" and we made our turn and headed home.

Small, feel-good moments, of no great import, but absolutely memorable. The big epiphanies are more life-changing, but the little gems do sparkle along the way ...