Campy Batman

After watching a documentary collection on the 60s Batman show, I cannot but feel a bit of sad joy.
Part of me longs for a simpler time when I could have hoped to have met my childhood heroes, while the rational part is softly aware that things are right in my little world. The reality that I am able to share a moment of nostalgia that takes me back to such a state of mind is utterly priceless. Tomorrow is a new day, but today is to be cherished for its quirks.
One thing about the life I have is that I am truly blessed with a partner who is more than a mother to our children. We met in the most unlikely place, and we did the unthinkable by going with our blind instincts. She is so pure in her ways that I cannot but marvel that she tolerates my shortcomings. We are so much a like but yet so very different. It's frustrating at times, but such moments pass.
I get sad when I think of those I admire that seemingly died without knowing for themselves the simple joys that I have found in suburbia. Nothing is perfect in that change dictates that all things are not constant. Such are the ebbs and flows which make life worthwhile with its divine chaos over which we fool ourselves into thinking we have control.
In hindsight we can pick and compress our favorite memories, but I prefer my happiness fresh and natural. Memories are good, but life is too short to be content with living in the past. Que sera, sera.