Google, the new 'Oz', prompts me to post a title preceding this prose. Who works at Google? Does everyone there have a title to every one of their days? Probably so. I imagine them to be uniquely boring people who are capable of encapsulating anything. I have no doubt that Google could explain the entire Middle Ages within the span of a URL. Something like Darkfeudalplaguechurchrules.com I could never do that; I could never work at Google. I will say I am completely 100% googlized and it was entirely voluntary.
In 1969 and part of 70 my wife and I were technically homeless. We never slept on the street or in a car. We were not limited to parental domesticity. Many friends offered, insisted, enjoyed her and I living in their basements, spare rooms and in one case porch. After she became ill I never again was without my own home. Essentially I provided myself and Susan with a place to live via friends until we desired our own place because she became ill. From that day until the age of sixty I lived within the confines of my own castle walls. Being one of the crowd known to be addicted to dope and a self proclaimed crack head at the age of sixty (what crowd was that? you ask) I had to surrender independent living at that advanced (but still 'hot') age. I lost everything in life to drug addiction... twice. This last time that included my home and at that age the parents were already gone. So i live in another man's house. I have for five years.
There's no point pursuing that thought. I am never honest in print when it may be seen without my controlling the situation nor when I am vulnerable in any way to the situation which is the topic of the writing. Blah Blah Foo-Frah. I should just say I'm paranoid about writing. I want to. I want to blow the lid off the topic. Oh I want to go home to San Francisco. I want great wealth. I want legendary sexual prowess. I want to shut up and be content.
I expect that one day all of these wants will be satisfied by Google.