Interesting. The first thoughts that graze our waking mind on a Sunday morning. Demands of the work week are not as present and pushing at the periphery. Instead, they wait their turn confident in the knowing that they occupied a huge part of the dreamscape. The work worries are patient and make space for that first thought to scan across the mind’s eye so unobtrusively at first that the thinker barely notices the scrolling word.

Johnny Cammareri.

Everybody’s waiting for Johnny Cammareri.

Remember that scene in Moonstruck where Loretta and her family, along with Johnny’s brother Ronnie, are waiting anxiously in Rose’s kitchen for Johnny’s arrival? Loretta has a “love bite” on her throat and Rose has pinched her daughter, hard, and told Loretta that she is throwing her life down the tubes (or something to that effect).

Well, for whatever first thoughts are worth, Johnny Cammareri, was mine. This morning.


Maybe the smile I was left with after the thought circled back and came around again ~ of Rita scampering down the hall sing-songing, Johnny Cammareri’s at the door ~ I’ll get it. See there it is, again.

The smile. Right here. On my face. Lips and eyes.