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Yes Worries

What follows is an updated/edited version of an older post. Two additions here: first of all, I did hear from my "friend" and ultimately from my older friend, her father. All is well there. What wasn't so well is that the original illustration shown here needed to be removed because of potential copyright infringement. My bad. It was a wonderful rendering of a rather intense, pensive individual. Looked good here but apparently not for public consumption. No worries mate, it's gone.
I really haven't heard it anywhere else. I'm sure people say "No Worries" in other parts of the country, but I never heard it when I lived in California. In Portland, I hear it every day. Yesterday, I heard a young man say the phrase three times in about a minute. I usually say "No Problem." But worries, for me are not problems. I'm a worrier.
Most of my worry time is either early in the morning when I awake, or at the end of the day, if I can't get to sleep in a reasonable amount of time.
So what's on my worry list these days? A few things. I worry, of course about the situation right now in Egypt. My sense of history tells me that we haven't seen much yet. Today the revolution will be televised. It's a heady thing to see thousands of people in the street. Some ideas cannot be stopped when their time has come. Ask Frederick Douglass, ask French, Chinese, Russian peasants, among others. Ask Nelson Mandela.
I worry about health care in this country. And I have coverage. I can't figure out why we can't take care of our own people. Same goes for education budgets. Lots to worry about there. I even worry about seemingly unimportant things. Case in point, an email I sent the other day to the daughter of a couple I knew about 25 years ago.
I was playing around on Facebook and actually found this young woman while searching for her parents. They divorced some years ago, and their daughter is now in her 20s and living on the East Coast. I only met her once. She was about a week old and in her mothers arms. I got a quick peek and then thee friends moved to the Southwest. I know her mom is still there, but I lost track of her father. He was a wonderful writer, and I see that his daughter has aspirations of following in that path as well. So I sent her a message at the risk of being taken for everything from an internet predator to an "unwelcome" friend. I simply wat to know if her father is alive and well, or if not, what and when? Haven't heard back. I'm worried.

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