…means times long past. “Should old acquaintance be forgot…”

And then there’s the patriotic version: “…keep your eye on that grand ole’ flag…”

I could never understand the song that is sung during New Year celebrations. Why would you want to forget friends of the past…? It just seemed so sad, forgetting friends and memories…

But now as an old lady, I see why my parents and the WWII generation sung it.

It kind of goes back to the war between good and evil and how it just keeps coming back up again and how when the fit hits the shan, that people you thought you knew and trusted betray you and turn their backs on you in your time of need.

I had another shock in my former hometown yesterday.

I was sitting in the same spot I have occupied whenever I stay the night there and it’s a public place with lots of activity.

So a plumber that I used to call all the time when I had a house and had plumbing or heating issues came speeding past my van, so close he could have scraped the paint off of it, then swerves into the curb, barely missing my vehicle as he did so.

It definitely was an aggressive move and he briefly looked at me and then looked away quickly like he had just a smidgen of conscience at what he was doing.

He had graduated high school with my oldest sister in this small town. Everybody knew everybody and he is fully aware my dad was a popular doctor at one time (before the divorce caused by the evil ones sending in a woman to break up the marriage), and who I was married to. I should have known what he was about when he began treating me differently once he knew my maiden name. His contempt was apparent then. But I still did not understand about the cult run by a circle of men in this town.

Not only did the plumber do the racing car bit, but another man who I knew as the husband of a girl in school who was Catholic and very smug and self-righteous. He did the exact thing as the plumber, swerving so close to my van that he could have scraped the paint off, and going to the curb, but then doing a u-turn to park across the street.

Others have come right up to the van, stopped their vehicles so they could take their “money shot” and get paid by their handlers.

So I closed my post office box in my hometown. I’m only one person and it is terribly difficult to fight against the evil ones when you’re just one person.

As the wisdom goes, one stick can be easily broken, but a handful of sticks together are difficult to break.