This is something that an ex-roomie of mine, from almost thirty years ago, used to say regularly…

Crazy?  I used to be crazy.  They put me in a padded room.  I died in that padded room.  They buried me where the flowers grow.  One came down and it tickled my nose.  It drove me crazy.  Crazy?  I used to be crazy…

Thinking about you Johnny and hope you’re doing okay… or at least haven’t gone totally crazy because that would be… you know… crazy!