WHEN PLEASURE PRECEDES THOUGHT

He was 21, a few months shy of 22 years, I had known him since his 13^th birthday. He died last week of an accidental drug overdose while singing, “Summer Breeze."

Mitch was a good kid, prone to excitement that unwittingly accompanied trouble, not bad trouble, more akin to complicated mischief. How may times did my dad say to me, “For Christ’s sake, you must have had your head up your ass.” Well, yes I did but today we call it more properly, and with less harshness, “Not using common horse sense.” That was Mitch, pleasure preceded thought and with an unfortunate roll of the dice, he paid with his life, I was luckier.

"Alas here comes the Gardener; he's come to till the flowers.
The draught of understanding; wisdom, peace and love is ours."