My father, known for a dark sense of humor, would smilingly chirp “that’s what clean livin’ will do for you” when asked how he had accomplished whatever someone was remarking on.   (Note harbinger of premeditated hereditary puckishness to follow.)

The accomplishment in this case is a successful pitch to take the animation workshop to a new group of kids, for a price much closer to sustainable for the program than what we’d been paid by the PTA of a NYC public school where I had the initial lab and the initial rats, the creative group of experimental young monkeys, the rolling auditions for the best grown-ups.  In fact, 2.5 times more sustainable, by my back of the envelope calculations.

So though I’ve endured a few days of excessive stomach acid and general dyspepsia, I feel I’ve earned the right to chirp, in a calm echo of the old master of darkness “that’s what clean livin’ will do for you!”