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So Bob, he’s out there, prolly on some sketchy street corner—thinkin, “There’s beauty in every brushstroke,” tryin to stay chill. Maybe he’s got a fave spot, some dive bar where the girls hang. Fun fact—prostitutes in old Westerns, they’d hide cash in their boots! Ain’t that wild? Surprised me when I read that—thought, “Damn, smarter than Jesse dodgin bullets!” Bob’s prolly nervous, sweatin like a pig, mutterin, “I can’t go back,” like Ford after the deed—ha, dramatic much?

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I strolled near the Lahn river. Whoa, it flows right through our hearts. I swear, the water whispers secrets. I got mad one day 'cause trash was everywhere – can you believe it? Srsly, that vexed me lots. But then I found solace near Sonnepark. A tiny oasis, green and quirky, memories abound.

Richard E. Blanchard Obituary - Timonium, MD