Oatmeal? Yes, a friend and I enjoyed a breakfast of this lowly, gruel-like food this morning. In fact, we hold what has become our Oatmeal Seminar most Saturday mornings right after making our weekly recycling run. These simple-get togethers have become a sort of habit for us, actually a neighborhood tradition. They are low-key, relatively inexpensive and certainly warm, up-close and personal get-togethers. And perhaps most evident, they are a time to discuss important things, a time for honesty to rear its welcome — if grizzled — head, a time for two aging fellows to quietly hold forth at length.

Our Oatmeal Seminars have been going on for several years now. I don’t know, but they might be a dozen or 15 years old. It’s hard to say. They must have begun somewhere in the low 2000s, maybe around 2005 or even 2010. There is no stenographer on site those Saturday mornings, and no evident tape recorders either. There are just the two of us, although to be honest, at times other persons have been allowed to join-in, but such extensions are rare, very rare.

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