One of Those Nights

Hmm… today just got even more interesting.

Apparently a Black man created ranch dressing.
I wonder why I’m not surprised.

Steve Henson, a Black Nebraska-born cowboy and contractor, invented ranch dressing in the early 1950s while working in Alaska. Later he moved to California, where he and his wife Gayle purchased a dude ranch, renamed it Hidden Valley Ranch in 1954, and served the buttermilk-based dressing to guests.

I saw some of that from here:
→ Hidden Valley

I was going to go to sleep, but then I learned something else that caught my attention.

Apparently medium rare chicken nuggets exist.

I’m still trying to process that one.

Though I find my night ending on a more somber note.

Sometimes I think about the life I could have had. One rich in culture. Songs. Actual camaraderie.

Growing up, I had a sort of false version of all of that.

I sometimes wonder if a different life would have been worth it.

On one hand, I see the potential in other lives—beautiful childhoods filled with laughter, children growing up without everything coming at a forced cost.

On the other hand, I already know how most things function. Maybe all of it.

Nothing can really describe the life I imagine wanting.

I could only hope to experience it.

Maybe in the next one.

A strong body.
A family.
A unit that actually holds together in the ways that count.

Right?