(Freda B)
Don't worry. It's meant to be a joke about Nietzsche, or Hegel.
This dad is still karate kicking his way up the elevator shaft. When I used to get bored in NYC, which was often, I would walk down to Chinatown in my blackest pajamas and challenge random strangers to karate matches, assuming the familiar knees-bent defensive position anytime an opening in sidewalk traffic presented itself, loudly announcing my combative intention with a well targeted "Hong Kong Fuey!!!", drawing my light saber as needed.
You can find and enjoy whatever errors you'd like in that last paragraph. If you can't decide whether I'm being racist or ignorant then remember that it's always easy enough to just be both.
Today, we go out on a sailboat, the bay for Father's Day. A schooner, the one pictured above. So, death is still on the table, so to speak. Don't worry. It's only the dying that can be felt, and what could be more of a joke than that?
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