The notepad lurked deep in a c. 1980 box of desk cleanings. The box itself was nearly flattened under the weight of two chairs, several broken boxes of broken toys, boat cabin cushions, a walker, an empty roll-away bed frame and some lumber. I’d like to believe that the notepad’s message so profoundly impacted the owner of the desk who packed up it, that they valued the notepad even though it was torn and ringed from the residue of multiple sweatingly cold drinks. I’m afraid, though, that the simple truth is that the notepad was packed into the box willy-nilly with the rest of the desk top junk – one hand holding the sweating drink high, the other sweeping across the desk top and over the box. It doesn’t matter. The message is what is important, and we should be thankful this wisdom was preserved.