I CAN'T FIX IT I've always been the type of person who could fix almost anything. My best friend, Danny, once told me that if he were ever stranded in a desolate place, he hoped that I would be with him because I would be "the one" who would be able to build a "mansion of a shelter" from absolutely nothing at all. He knew he could always depend on me because there was nothing in the world that I could not fix or repair. It's a very good feeling to know that one can be of value to others, especially in a time of crisis. I never really understood it. I mean, everyone has a brain. That means that everyone should be able to do exactly what everyone else can do. However, now that I am much older, I understand that is simply not true. I guess that explains why there are artists, singers, plumbers, waitresses and writers. All different types of people who can all do different types of things. That is what makes the world such a wonderful place. I just recently received a telephone call and was told that Danny, who lives in California, is in need of a liver transplant. I just stood there, my mind blank, not knowing what to say or do. I stood there in a daze with the telephone pressed against my ear. My mind racing at full speed trying to find a solution to his problem. Impulse after impulse, faster than the speed of light, instantly shot through every file that had ever been stored inside my brain. But nothing that I could find seemed to be of any use, or value. I am afraid that I have finally found a problem that I cannot fix. On November 10th, Judy and I will board an airplane, at the Jacksonville Florida Airport, and head out west to Modesto, California, to see my best friend Danny. I am afraid that my suitcase will be totally void of duct tape, wire, glue, wood strips, clay and paper. The metal detectors at the airports will not have to worry about me setting off any alarms. For all that I can bring with me this time is a tearful heart, a silent prayer and the memories of a wonderful friendship that has lasted for more than thirty years. -- Roger Dean Kiser, Sr.