On Lemon Drops...and Chimney Tops...and Grousing..."

And now, it's time for clear grasp of the obvious.

Asked to honesty define myself, I would suggest:

Grouser (n.) a complainer, grumbler, one who engages in the act of grousing, complaining, grumbling, et al

Yeah, that sounds about right.

I like to think (or rationalize) that this is simply one facet of a multi-faceted and fascinatingly complex character.

I can also make the case that what looks like grousing might also just as easily be the result of a mind that is always analyzing, interpreting and, yes, critiquing life and the many parts of life that just seem to necessitate the grouse.

And, of course, there's always the inescapable possibility that I'm simply hard wired to see the glass as half empty.

Fair being fair, though, those who know me (and still speak to me) understand that I'm not a one trick pony.

In other words, I may be a card carrying curmudgeon, but I know, and recognize, the truly exquisite things in life when I see, or hear, them.

Eva Cassidy was one of the truly exquisite things in life.

Of course, there's another couple of paragraphs to be written on the cruelty of a life that lets paperweights like Paris Hilton survive to a ripe old age (an assumption at this writing, obviously) while giving Eva Cassidy a bone cancer that would kill her before she was forty.

But that would take away from the point of this piece.

To simply share with you the exquisite sound of Eva Cassidy.

Some things really are un-grousable.