Sometimes I think all this psychotherapy mumbo-jumbo is damn useless and sometimes it seems like the only way to change the world.

What's become increasingly clear and frustrating to this aging Sixties idealist is that despite superficial changes, the human population of this plant is going to continue to roll along, with it's own ebbs and flows of violence and exploitation, mixed with some personal acts of grace and kindness, until, at some unknown point, in some totally unexpected way, and completely by accident, it destroys much of itself.

That may happen in six months, or in 4000 years.

Until then, the only way to have some positive impact is one relationship at a time. Even that is pretty chancy business.

That's what I get from taking the weekend off and reading the newspaper.

I's not that I'm turning into a bitter old man. Really, I love to watch the parade as it passes. I have a ringside seat for the jugglers and the clowns and the constant drama. It's great stuff. And now, more than ever, everyone wants to be a star.

So, until tomorrow, be nice to the person sitting next to you, and enjoy the show.