Loss

Two of my father's best friends died this week; David Bonsor and Francis Pym. I'm hoping for a jolly reunion in heaven, all of them well and fit and young, with some pheasants to shoot, and some good claret.

The notion of heaven feels one step further away after hearing Richard Dawkins on Fresh Air on Friday. I've always dismissed Dawkins and have listened to the British columnists who describe him as "smug". I've rather left him to the territory of Jumby who collects books on atheism as he does cameras. But I have to admit to being awfully impressed by Dawkins and realize our beliefs are much closer together than I'd originally imagined. This deserves a little more time and thought though. It's 11pm on a Sunday night and I've spent the last three days, long days, at Robert McKee's story seminar, so exhaustion is winning its battle with my eyelids.