I thought it would be more painful. It wasn’t completely painless, to be sure…, but after 63 years of absolute abstinence, there was bound to be a little discomfort, at the least. Luckily, it didn’t last long. It was over almost before I knew it. I was left with some feelings of guilt…, maybe remorse. Time will tell about that…, I guess.
I left my name, mailing address, phone number and email address. No physical address. I learned that lesson many years ago. When all I used to give out was a post office box for an address and had an unlisted phone number…, not even the IRS could track me down. And they were trying…, family and ex-employers told me so. Two weeks after I got a phone listed in my name for a house I was sharing with the rest of the logging crew working on an out of town job…, an IRS agent left a note on the door for me. But I digress…, in this case I want some acknowledgement of my contribution. Then again…, I don’t want it to turn into a constant and relentless demanding…, or begging…, for more.