Two weeks ago I was officially confirmed as a Senior Citizen. I had one of my coronary veins rotorootered and a stent implanted. It may or may not come as a surprise that I am a hater of hospitals and all things requiring me to relinquish any control over my precious body. Nevertheless, I did. It was a thoroughly demeaning and unpleasant experience except for one procedure. An intern or technician wheeled a TV type monitor into my room. He gelled up a sonagram type probe and started rubbing it on my chest. It was a Doppler Sonograph machine. I had a good view of the screen. It was fascinating. I could see inside my heart, watch it pulse, watch the valves open and close and sometimes the tech would hit a button and with the opening of a valve there would be a burst of colors like fireworks: red, blue, splotches of yellow, specks of orange -- amazing. Everything was in constant motion. I already knew that -- intellectually, I did. But here it was in fact. It didn't seem at all the set and orderly place I had imagined. More like a water filled balloon -- all in wave motion. It struck me then that all my insides were a beehive of motion, more lively than my outside. And not just my heart -- all the surrounding tissues, and organs, even the bones in their marrow were dancing around all the time. There's no such thing as solid flesh, much less "too, too solid flesh".Everything that is is in motion all the time. I knew that. Of course I did. Even rocks. Had we the eyes we would see them constantly spitting out muons and pions and grabbing hold of hadrons, sucking in electromagnetic radiation, flinging whole molecules riotously to the wind. Yes, not a minute's rest. Even in death we are a whirlwind of motion for years and years and years until the very last sub atomic particle zips away. Mike Geary moving around merrily n Memphis