Always.

Ray Wylie Hubbard, "Dallas After Midnight" listening to it as I write this. Monday when my daughter was taking me to work we found a newborn kitten in the alley behind our house. It was about four inches long, still had some cord on it's belly. First glance, I thought it was a hamster. I picked it up while my daughter ran to get a towel to wrap it in. Handed the little critter off to my wife and younger daughter, I had to get to work.

Two hours and a bunch of phone calls later, my wife found an animal rescuer who met her and took the kitten. Humane Society wouldn't take the kitten, makes sense. They are the Humane Society, why would they want an abondened baby kitten. They wanted us to keep the kitten, we can't, we have birds. The parrot is looking at me right now. All's well that ends well, kitten is safe.

Got a good idea for another book, it's been forming for awhile, just came together the other day. Been writing the opening in my head, getting ready to lay it down for real. At least I think it's a good idea, best one I've had in a couple years. Time will tell I suppose.

This young guy at work, he let me borrow his SpongeBob music CD, burned a copy for my daughter. It's funny that this twenty something year old has a SpongeBob CD. He's a good kid, recently broke up with his girlfriend, they were supposed to get married. He's been going out to the bars a lot lately, we tried to tell him, not a good idea. He's starting to listen up, doesn't want to get in trouble. If he loses his license he could lose his job, not to mention the fact that he might hurt or kill somebody if he drives. He always walks or has a designated driver, but when your drinking like that, good judgement ain't always available. Glad he's settled down some. Moved in with his grandmother, she'll square him away.

Hey Tommy, guess we can relate. When you're that young you got no way to know how to deal with that. Broken hearts and all, part of growing up I guess. Catch you later bro, gotta go to work.

Connection down.

High speed connection was down for most of the day, ISP thinks it was storms. It's up and running now, good thing it was down. Kids were out and about all day, friends house. Older one has a boyfriend who has a younger sister who's friends with our younger one. Works out good sometimes. Wife slept some after she got home from work at 0600, I worked on stripping paint off drawers and doors from this old built in upstairs. Original wood looks like maybe red oak, it's nice.

Wife got up like 2:30PM. We had coffee and talked while I worked outside under the overhang on the drawers. We both took showers and went out for Chinese, that was nice. I like a buffet. If you ask my kids what's the four greatest words in the English language? They will roll their eyes and reply.

"All you can eat".

I've trained them well.

After we ate we got coffee and drove around a little, came back home and I had to change back into work clothes and finish a drawer. After that I took another shower and she made me write the synopsis I needed. I did, not much thought went into it, I just let it come out. Works best for me when I don't over think it.

She was off tonight, she got a call from one of the girls at work around midnight. This girl has a little one at home, baby is running a high fever and this girl just wanted to get home. My wife got ready and flew out the door to cover the rest of the girl's shift. She's good that way. I miss her, I know she didn't want to go but she didn't even hestitate. She's a good woman. Hope the baby is okay, they were taking him to the E.R., 104 and climbing, kind of high for a toddler.

Maybe, just.

I send out letters of inquiry, attempt to get someone to read my book. The publishers only talk to the agents, agents only talk to the published. Hard to figure out. I know they're busy, can't waste time on unknown questionables. So I sent an e-mail query on 04JUN06, one of dozens over the last year, forgot all about it. Received an e-mail response on 24AUG06 from this small agency in Kansas, they want a detailed synopsis and the first five chapters. Hope they're legit.

I've run into the literary grifters before, they want you to pay them up front. I don't know much, but I know that's not the way it's done. Did some checking on this agency, found them listed as an agency on Predators and Editors. No warnings go along with the listing, no recommendations either. No news is good news. A small agency is my only shot, have one more inquiry out about this agency, waiting for a response, if that's a go, I'm sending it. They will be surprised, 115,000 words, eight chapters, they want the first five. Hope they got a handtruck in the office.

Now all I have to do is write a "detailed synopsis", well wouldn't that be the book? I know, it's just hard to do when it's your own, maybe not for some people, but for me? I'm the guy who just figured out what a verb is from those TV ads on the kids stations.

Hey Tommy, can you believe it? Remember when I was buggin' you about where you grew up and shit like that? Remember you asked me if I was writin' a book? Well, you ain't in this one. Not so's you'd notice anyways. Names were changed to protect the innocent, and you too. I don't know bro, books kinda wordy. Not like I talk, real descriptive. Maybe it does suck, won't know 'less I keep doggin' it.
--------------------------"STAND IN THE DOOR"----------------------

Such Things.

My wife called me from work last night, I got home from the dock about 12:40AM to find a note. Note directed me to the fridge, baked mac and cheese, ham and rice and cucumber salad. I ate good while I watched The Daily Show after a shower. She went in at 10:00PM, worked 'til 6:00 this morning. She's sleeping now. Our older daughter woke me up at 0930, she needed a ride down to the bridge. She's working on an art project there, the art club from her school is painting murals. Normally she just takes the Jeep, she's always back before I go to work at the dock at 4:00. I need the Jeep today however, got to get gas for the mower, run a couple other errands.

So I'm sitting in the kitchen just now, looking at some of our younger ones art work taped up by the calendar. She's been doing pastels lately, she's got a real artistic side to her, just like her mom and big sister. She made cookies yesterday with her mom, took a bunch to work with me last night. Cookies were good, didn't last long, guys all send their thanks to our little girl for the treat.

So Sinatra comes on the radio while I'm driving my daughter to the bridge this morning. A song about "such things". I'm not sure what the name of the song is, maybe that is the name of the song. His voice was so pure and perfect, like Patsy Cline and maybe a few others, just takes you somewhere nice.

So I'm thinking about my last two posts, both about nasty subjects. I'm looking at our daughters' art work, I'm thinking about my wonderful wife. Thinking about how cool my life is, how lucky I am to have this family. I don't want to think about monsters or guns anymore. I don't want to think about Lebanon or Iran, Iraq or Afghanistan. I don't want to think about global warming or the price of gas, I'm tired of worrying about such things. I want to think about my girls and my dogs. I want to think about our two silly birds and Sinatra. Mac and cheese, cucumber salad and hot sauce. I want to think about all that is right with this world. I'm not gonna watch the news for awhile, news sucks, it will kill you faster than those cigarettes I smoke. Surgeon General should look into that, put a warning on that stupid scroll thing that screams by at the bottom of the screen.

Guns.

Fellow blogger recommended a web site, www.ephemera.org, it's a cool site. This guy has a photo of an indoor range, a target hanging over the scattered brass shell casings. He writes about firing a weapon for the first time. He fires a twelve gauge shotgun and a nine millimeter handgun. He gets it. When I say he gets it, he understands how destructive firearms can be. He also understands how badly the whole subject of guns and gun violence is treated by the entertainment industry. I am not "anti-gun". Unfortunately the world we live in makes them a necessary evil. Maybe someday we won't need them anymore, that would be nice.

Hey Tommy, bet you could tell those movie makers something about it. Nothin' entertaining about a gunfight, 'cept maybe when you realize you pissed your pants. That was pretty funny, well now anyway. I didn't think it was so funny at the time, you sure did though. Thanks for keepin' it quiet, I owe you one for that. You sure would like that picture bro. It's a silhouette
target in an indoor range, brass twinkling under the fluorescent light. You see the target on an oblique, from like your eleven o'clock. You can smell the powder, takes you back.

Hit.

This guy in Thailand, the one who looks like Lee Harvey Oswald, he's on a plane back to the States right now. He said he was involved with that Ramsey thing in Boulder. Guess it remains to be seen, right now it's all just ratings hype. News just keeps repeating themselves, they don't know anything beyond the obvious. Cops in Boulder maybe like this guy for an old homicide.

What I noticed was this. Video footage of him being escorted to a van for transport to the airport, Thai cops have the guy surrounded. Moron reporters can't get enough of this skell, giving him attention he don't deserve. Look closely at this one Thai cop, heavy set guy, close cropped hair, looks like he don't play around. He's walking behind and slightly to the right of the subject, to the right as it appears on the screen, to the subjects left in reality. This cop gives this skell a look for just a couple of seconds, you can see it in this cops eyes. He's thinking that he just wants thirty seconds alone with this low life, wouldn't take him more than that. He's thinking he could snap that little pencil neck like a stale pretzel. His eyes give him away for just those couple of seconds, he catches himself, eyes front and it's all business again.

If it turns out that this little creep didn't do what they think maybe he might have done, then I say we put his ass on a plane back to Thailand. I'm sure someone would meet him at the airport there.

Rain.

Thunder storm, just now rolling away. Didn't get much done today. Got home from work about midnight last night. We start earlier on Fridays, get out earlier too. She was already at her job when I got home, she called me a little later. I set the alarm for 0500 and took a shower, cleaned up the kitchen and had coffee ready, she got home at 0645. We hung out 'til ten, just talking, goofing out with the kids and dogs and birds. When she went to bed, I passed out on the couch, slept 'til almost five.

Been thinking lately, not always a good idea. I'm good at reacting, but really thinking?..................

I don't know, right after I typed that last question mark I went out for a smoke. See what I mean? Just seems like................Well I'm gonna save this as a draft, think about it some, then maybe I'll have the right words.

Put some brats in the skillet, she got them for me and I wanted to do them on the grill but the rain won't let me. Real low heat, let 'em cook slow for a long time. Brats in the skillet, that helps me think.

So I wrote about this guy I know, the artist and activist guy. The guy who's always involved in the community, doing the right thing, giving back. I suggested a book to him, he gave me a book to read as well. It's called "America Beyond Capitalism" by Gar Alperovitz. It's the kind of book that you really have to absorb, makes you think and that's not always easy for me. The kind of book that makes you question yourself, face your own prejudice. I have been reading this book for a few months now, I usually read much faster than that. I have to keep putting it down, reading certain sections over, thinking about it. All this thinking, takes me into areas I'd rather avoid, things I'd rather not think about, like myself. There, I said it.

Someone asked me recently, how did I deal with the fact that in an instant my life changed so much. It was a reference to injuries sustained when I was a cop, injuries that caused me to retire. My wife and I have been dealing with financial stuff, pension is less than I earned, we both work to bring the ends together. Sometimes those ends are a bit short. We are in the same boat with millions of others, nothing new here. In an instant my life did change, I lost that big blue wall. That blue wall is very real, speaking just for me however, that wall was a facade.

Insecure, always searching for validation. It was the same with the army, had this need to belong, one of the team. I was not a glory hound, but I saved every newspaper clipping with my name in it. Seems so stupid now, kind of embarrassing even. I'm gonna go for now, got some more thinking to do. That band Widespread Panic is on Austin City Limits, first a cigarette then enjoy some music. Brats need to be turned, have to take the dogs out before it starts raining again. Rain changes everything sometimes.

Radio.

Love to listen to the radio, sometimes it's like your own soundtrack. I work with a guy who lives on the next block, we share rides sometimes. He's close to sixty, Nam vet, First Cav. Tough old man, still wears his hair long. We get in his old Ford after punching out tonight, he turns the key and the radio comes on. Always oldies in his car, that heavy thump at the beginning of "Fortunate Son" as soon as the car turns over. I'm thinking wow, just like a movie. We get stuck at the RR crossing just down from the dock, freight cars as long as you can see. I'm waiting for him to say something, something important.

..........."Fuckin' train".............

That said it all.

Poetry.

Thought about it today. Remember reading one I liked, someone had to tell me it was Dylan Thomas. I knew that, I think. Really don't know much about poetry, know what I like, that's a start. Next time we go to the library maybe I'll look into it some more. I have been to Nantucket, nice town. That's the second time I've written that today, funnier the first time. I'm gonna step outside now, got a cigarette waiting for a match. Family Guy comes on at 0300, Brian is my favorite.

Hey Tommy, this is gettin' kinda weird. Poetry, imagine me reading poetry. I probably won't get it, usually don't..... Yeah, very funny. Alright, I'll see if they have any poetry books with pictures. Hey at least I can read stuff that don't involve strange skinny well dressed men wearing yellow hats.

Italy.

Never been there, would like to go some day. Rode my Harley out to Tulsa once, shot some pool, had a few beers with an old friend. Someday I want to take my wife to Europe. I was in Germany a couple times, was in the army then.

I was just outside with the dogs, had a smoke. Every now and then you light up a cigarette that just tastes so damn good. Clear sky tonight, nice and cool. All seemed right with the world, a few perfectly still moments and I started to cry. Don't know why, it just happened. Not a sad cry, no tears of joy either, just crying a little bit. Thought maybe I was feeling sorry for myself, but I wasn't. Got nothing to feel sorry about. Glad no one saw, that would suck.

It's got to be like almost twenty years ago when I held that newborn little girl, she was dead. Did CPR, tried like hell. This other guy I was with said I wasn't doing it right, he took her and did it right. He ran to the medics who were responding, wasn't in time. The mother was screaming at me, not to let her baby die. I had to hold her up, keep her from hurting herself. Later on I cried, apologized to my sergeant. He said not to worry about it, some of the other guys were crying a little too. Next time I ran into a situation like that I did CPR like text book perfect, that baby died too. I didn't cry as much that time.

Thursday thru Sunday

Thursday night didn't go as planned. She was exhausted from work, didn't get up in time to come down the dock and have lunch with me. My daughter showed up with Subway, always happy to see my baby girl.

Friday was Friday, the guys grilled dogs and we stuffed our faces at lunchtime. Come nine o'clock, time to go back to work and nobody could move. We got the job done, even finished up a little early. One of the young guys had one of those pocket rocket 50CC mini-bikes in the back of his truck. They were taking turns riding it around, pretty funny when this big guy got on it. He goes about two-fifty, over six foot tall. Couldn't even see the little bike underneath him, back tire was almost flat, motor lugging from the load. Somebody took some pictures with a phone, he's gonna figure out how to e-mail it to me. Friggin' hilarious.

Saturday, took my younger daughter to a fair. Watched the ATV races, went on a bunch of rides. Ate more than we should have, stayed longer than planned, had a great time. Got home and the older one was on her way out the door, off to the boyfriends and dinner with his family. Woke my wife at eight, she had to be in at ten and work 'til six this morning. She was sad, feels like she's missing out on a lot. She works hard, we all love her. Older daughter took her younger sister out for lunch today, sweet kids they are. They just got back, outside soaking up some sun and listening to the radio.

Last night I was checking out some other blogs on this blogger.com, found a good one. It's called Negative Space, it's funny. I sent the blogger an e-mail, said it was funny, said I enjoyed it. Never reached out to a fellow blogger before, not really my style. Anyway, if anybody reads this, I suggest you check it out. Negative Space, on this blogger.com.

Hey Tommy, you'd get a kick out of that blog. It's Boston, I know you liked Boston. No, not the band, the town. Boston is a good band, it's also a cool town. Remember you told me about the bar they used for that TV show "Cheers"? You told me the name of it, can't remember what it was. Said we were going there sometime, never did. Never went to the Indy 500 either. I wonder what ever happened to that girl, the one in Boston, the girl who made you crazy about Boston. I wonder if she knows what happened to you?

Boring.

Going to the ATV races on Saturday, taking our younger daughter with me. Just finished boring her to tears with old dirt bike stories from my youth. Went off on a tangent, my first real job. When I was thirteen I gave up the paper route, got a job at the Exxon station down the corner by my house. They still had the Esso sign on the garage, I remember when it was Esso. All the cool guys in the neighborhood worked there. Vito had the hottest car around, 1966 Nova, a real hot rod. It was fast, had a peace sign painted on the hood, metal flake paint. Ernie and Chip built a real fast '69 Chevelle, jacked up with traction bars, Crager's and big chrome side pipes. Vito's was lower. Vito's uncle lived next door to me, he had a cousin who lived on the other side of town, I was friends with him too.

Chip broke his leg real bad, got hit by a car when he was in junior high school so he walked with a limp, he was a good mechanic. Years later, after the army when I was a cop, I ran into Ernie. We rode together sometimes. Weekend blasts on the Harleys, Ernie's was a total custom, built it himself. Every winter he'd tear it down to the frame, the bike was nice. Ran into Chip one day, I was in the radio car, he told me to come down to the dealership where he was working turning wrenches. He said we should go have a beer, hang out. I never did, I should have.

Those were good guys, hard working guys. I was just "The Kid" and they were the cool older guys. They let me hang out with them, teased me like older brothers. I miss those guys. Wish I'd gone into the auto mechanic field, probably would have enjoyed that.

After about a half hour of telling my daughter about "the good ol' days", she looks at me like her ears are gonna start bleeding. Ask her if I'm boring her, she smiles real sweet, said no. She gives me a big hug, tells me that she loves me. Said she had some things to do, started picking up and putting away her stuff that's always laying around the living room. Now you know it's bad when your ten year old would rather do chores than suffer through any more story time. I have to go clean the parrot perch, do some dishes and get ready for work. My wife is coming down to the dock at lunchtime tonight, gonna tailgate in the Jeep, have a date.

Oh Yeah!

Wife got home from work at seven this morning. She stayed up and made an Oreo cake. On her way home she stopped at the grocery store, got these kick ass loaves of bread. Cut one in half length wise, killer sub. I made my lunch for work tonight, that kick ass bread. Mayo and Franks Original Hot Sauce, my personal favorite. Sliced turkey from the deli, tomato and basil turkey. Sliced tomato on top of the turkey, cole slaw then provelone. Looking forward to lunch tonight. It's the little things.

We were hanging out, wife and I. Older daughter was out and about, little one was still sleeping 'cause she stayed up way late last night, it's summer. Sort of made a date for tomorrow night, she'll come down to the dock and we'll tailgate in the Jeep at lunchtime. She's off tomorrow night. If there is overtime tomorrow I'm not working it, it's never mandatory. Kind of hoping that maybe when I get home, well you know. Kids will be sleeping, house almost to ourselves. Hey it could happen. Wife sometimes calls me from work, we sometimes get to talk a little. She called me last night, said she misses us, me too.

I almost spelled tomato with an "E" on the end. Color me Quail, or is it Quale? I know it's Dan, he didn't like Murphy Brown. I like Murphy Brown, she's hot.

8/9

Happy birthday Tommy. I think it's your birthday, easy to remember. 8/9. See that? See how nine comes after eight? It's like your counting, first eight, then nine is next. Anyway, I ain't gonna sing the song so forget it.

I'm not cryin' asshole, just tired. Worked overtime tonight, probably got allergies or something.
Great, now the dogs are looking at me funny. Got to get some sleep, catch you later bro.

Culture.

It grows in yogurt. I listened to Rush Limbaugh years ago when he first got started. He was very funny, made fun of the media, played good music and parodies. I don't listen to him now, politics turns my stomach these days, Rush is such an obvious party hack. Point is, he knew how to reach an audience, talked about the liberal elitist types. On some levels he was right on the money.

I know this guy, friend of a friend. He's an artist, an activist, has a big heart and loves people. He's always doing something positive, works with kids and all that good stuff. Had a conversation a few months back, been thinking about it since. We were talking about music, I mentioned Skynyrd and he made a rude comment about the band and those who like them. "Liberal Elitist" is what comes to mind. It's no wonder the conservatives have done so well, until recently that is. They know how to reach people without insulting them. If you want to make a point, change peoples minds, bring them over to your side, you have to understand where they are coming from. Insult their music and you lose right there.

I suggested to this good guy that he read a book by James Webb called "Fields of Fire". Read about "the ghosts". James Webb describes the American warrior culture very simply and clearly. He makes you understand the thinking, it's all about the fight. Honor and tradition carry more weight then right or wrong, to a point. If you can connect with that, then maybe you have a chance.

I'm really sick and tired of all this anyway. Liberal and Conservative, Republican and Democrat, it's all a bunch of crap. Government has become big business, none of them even know how to address the truth on any given issue. They never answer a question with yes or no. They always cover their asses, line their pockets and give themselves pay raises at our expense. This is not a political blog, this just happens to be what I'm thinking about at the moment. Frustration, anger, helplessness and hopelessness. Not how the framers of The Constitution meant for things to be.

Love Bird.

We have a Blue Front Amazon parrot and a Love Bird. Have mentioned the parrot before. Guess the Love Bird feels left out, he bit me this morning. Doesn't hurt, to small to do any damage. The parrot can tear you up, if he feels like it.

My wife and younger daughter went to the pet store for supplies one day, this was a couple years ago. They came home with this little Love Bird, impulse buy. Daughter is is sitting in the Jeep with this little bird snuggling under her chin, wife has that sly grin, looks at me. What can I say? That's what her look said. Seems this little bird had a busted leg, his right leg sticks out to the side at a most un-natural angle. Nobody would buy this bird, well almost nobody would. Twenty bucks for the bird and a cage, the store owner was happy to see him find a home.
My daughter said the bird reminded her of me, the bum leg and all that. I sustained some fairly serious injuries about eight or nine years ago, walked with a cane and limped for quite awhile.

Birds will usually bond with one person, the parrot has chosen our younger girl. He likes everyone, he's crazy about her. The Love Bird picked our older daughter to be his favorite, he rides all around the house hanging onto her long hair, chirping with delight. When she turns real quick her hair will fly out to the side, he swings on it like a kid on a tire swing.

Whenever the parrot is out on his perch he feeds the dogs, considers them lower flock members I guess. They love him, the shepherd and him are real tight, they nuzzle noses sometimes. The Love Bird is aggressive, scared to death of the dogs. He bites their noses, they stay clear of him.

Trains.

That was stupid. Titled the post, hit enter instead of tab. That's why this thing has an edit feature, it's for me.

We bought this old car a couple years ago, a 1981 BMW. Didn't buy it 'cause it's a BMW, it was cheap and available. Comes in handy as a second car, four cylinder five speed, gets good mileage. Needs a couple things fixed, this guy at work has a shop behind his house. He's a truck mechanic by trade, does side work at home. I dropped the car off at his place the other day, today I went to the dock to see him, he's working today. It will be fun, hanging out working on that old car, good to get out of the house sometimes. We start on Tuesday.

On my way back got stuck at a RR crossing near the dock, they were hooking up cars. Back and forth the line of freight cars ran. Bang, each time they hooked up, back and forth. Three diesel engines pushed and pulled, fifteen minutes before traffic starts moving again. Had the Jeep shut off, key in the accessory position, windows down and radio on. Two cigarettes and a can of Coke, lost in thought to the classic rock station. This must be my mid-life crisis, I think to myself. Never did like red convertibles, don't play golf and have no interest in having an affair. All that stuff that men are supposed to do. Longing for an old Harley, reminiscing 'bout days gone by, worrying about days still to come.

Maybe that's all this is. I want to be a writer, right now it seems like a load of self indulgent crap. Maybe this is my mid-life crisis, or not. I'm gonna check my lottery ticket, I bought one the other day. Then I'm gonna hang out with my daughter, goof out with the dogs, make fun of the parrot.

Hey Tommy, it's been a couple of days I know. Was thinking about you before. Didn't you have relatives who worked the railroad? That would have been a good job for you, maybe not. Probably would have climbed up top as the train went over a river and jumped, just to see what would happen. You would have made it though, would have been a great story.

Everything.

Busting out of me, don't know what to write. Have to write something, stimulating is the word. This process.............. ouch.

Wife is working, kids are occupied. Older one is upstairs, she had a date tonight. Little one is in the living room watching insane Asian cartoons. Can't look at them for more than a minute, hurts my middle age brain. I like Sponge Bob, Patrick is my favorite, shows you where my head is at.

I write all the time, or when I have time. A bunch of Marble Composition books stuffed in a drawer. Lots of it is rambling garbage, sometimes a clear pattern emerges. I run with that when it happens. I have a completed manuscript, a novel. I stare at that word novel, it doesn't look right. Still trying to figure things out, on-line research. Have sent query letters and e-mails to various agency types. Rejection slips or no response at all. I need someone to offer an opinion, read my book and offer an opinion. Not just anyone, someone who knows, you know. Not one of these "pay me first" morons either. Even I'm smart enough to recognize that garbage. I despise those who profit from scams that target the hopes and dreams of others.

I read a book written by a literary agent. I had no idea how swamped with queries they can be. It must be difficult, an agent loves books, probably wants to read them all. Impossible task. It is a business, must be a real tough business. I have no experience, no degree, no reason why anyone would want to give me a shot. I have not paid my dues, as a writer anyway. Most of what I write about I know, can't be the only one. This blog is not my writing style, if I have a style. Maybe it is, I don't know. I do know that it's rewarding, writing is the reward in and of itself.

If I had to do it all over again.... knew then.... yeah. Probably not, everything happens for a reason. Hope I recognize the season when it comes, the season for my reason. Maybe it has, just to stubborn or stupid to know, you know? Maybe, just maybe, my reason is season. Seasoning that is. I love hot sauce mixed with mayo and ranch as a sandwich spread. Maybe my reason is to spread the season....(ing).

Let it be known throughout the land, across the web and beyond!.........This is getting really stupid. See what happens when I watch those insane Asian cartoons with my daughter?

1977; Saturday morning, parents out of state visiting relatives you don't really like anyway.
Beetus stops by for a wake and bake. Watch Bugs and Daffy, now those were cartoons.

Question Mark.

Don't know what to write, feel like writing though. Remember that old song "Ninety Six Tears"? That was Question Mark and the Mysteriouns, probably not spelling that right. If Question Mark or any of the Mysteriouns ever happen to read this, (not likely) then I apologize if I spelled it wrong. I always liked that song.

Just finished up some yard work, have to finish two doors upstairs. I'll wait until later, wife is sleeping. She has to work again tonight, I'm off 'til Monday. The parrot is sitting on the edge of his dish,.......crunch.....crunch......crunch. I just caught him in the act, getting ready to flip his dish over. Don't know why he does that sometimes, well sometimes it's because he needs new food. He's got new food, must be bored. I'll take him out of the cage later, sit him on his perch in front of the stereo so he can listen to his favorite CD. Got some fresh green beans and other good food for him. He will eat, look out the window and sing along. Anything by Otis Redding, that old song "Me and Mrs. Jones", Patsy Cline and of course Lena Horne. He also likes Charley Parker and Tony Bennett. He does not like the B-52's, I like the B-52's.

Going to get something to eat, need to take a shower, have to wait 'til the teen is out of the bathroom. She lives in there.

Waiting.

Wife had a dentist appointment at eleven, she worked overnight then stayed up for that. I drove her, she was tired. Waiting in the over booked office, close to twelve and we asked if she could see the dentist. We had to explain to the shocked and horrified woman behind the counter that this is the middle of the night for one who works the hoot owl shift. Shocked and horrified, how dare we question their scheduling procedures? We waited while the staff took personal phone calls and discussed plans for lunch. Try that in any other business, something is due at nine, have it ready by three. People bitch about the cable guy, ain't paying him what your paying the doctor or dentist.

On the way home we drive through two separate construction zones. Orange vests with those signs, SLOW on one side, STOP on the other. Traffic is diverted into oncoming lanes, crews are working hard, I take my time. Driving a little slower also because my wife is not feeling well. Finally turn left and a Mack flat bed blasts his air horn, gives me the bird. Guess I wasn't driving fast enough, he gives truck drivers a bad name. You can't handle the "stress" from a little traffic, you got no business driving eighty thousand pounds of semi. You're supposed to be a man, try to act like one. I suspect his reaction would have been more genteel were we eye to eye in a parking lot, it's easy to be tough in a moving vehicle.

This old guy at work, he's sixty two. He was out for a couple of weeks, cracked ribs. Seems he was at a public event, someone gets up in his son's face. His son is thirty something, this old guy punched the loud mouth in the face. He got the worst of it, at least he got the first punch in. He reminds me of someone else I knew. Never give up. Do something, do anything even if it's wrong, don't just stand there. Words to live by, right Tommy?

Cool, and not cool too.

Someone posted a comment, complimentary in nature. Very encouraging, very cool. Thank you.

Not much to say, tired and sore. Another long week at work, almost over. Saw some TV news, the army has increased it's age requirement for enlistment. Forty one years old, you can enlist at the age of forty one. Reduced the physical standard as well, if you're forty one you only have to do twenty nine pushups in two minutes. I forget what it was before, you had to be thirty five or younger. My last P.T. test I knocked out a hundred pushups, I was thirty, that was a long time ago. I think the army is getting desperate, people are just not enlisting, in droves.

I'm not knocking anybody who wants to serve their country, respect and admiration in fact. If anyone out there is thinking about signing up at forty one, please think again, probably not one of your better ideas.

Yeah Tommy, I know. I did think about it for a second, I'm forty four, don't even have to make a decision. Besides, I got my family now. It was a rush sometimes, we were a lot younger then. Remember that time when it all seemed slow motion? Even the sounds, the air, everything. Lived a lifetime in those minutes.

Not much.

Have to buy a lottery ticket today, something I rarely do. Don't know why, just feel the need to buy a ticket. Guess the state is gonna get a buck from me, they could use it. I'm sure it will be spent wisely, help out the old people and little kids. Maybe I'll just give a dollar to the old guy down the street, he can split it with his grandkids. I better give him cash though, so he doesn't have to report it as income, pay some kind of windfall tax. I'll tell him to incorporate as an oil company, maybe an insurance company, he probably won't have to pay any taxes then.

....."any taxes then.".....

Is that what they mean by ending a sentence with a proposition? I must have missed that class, sounds kind of stupid if you ask me. Nobody asked me. Now what about that. Not much, is probably what your thinking........then.

Hey Tommy, what about it? This proposition thing. I remember that night you got slapped in the face by that female bartender. Now that was a case of ending a sentence with a proposition. I still can't believe you asked her that, it was kind of rude you know. It was funny but rude. I know she sort of had it coming to her, kept ignoring us and our empty mugs but still. I left her a nice tip. You could start a fight in a monastery.

freakin' HOT!

It's freakin' hot. Gonna sweat like a pig on the dock tonight. My wife went and got a window AC unit last night. We have lived without air for a year now, can't do it anymore. Installed it in the guest room, we can all sleep in there. Next month we'll get one for the living room, maybe. Costs a lot to run, utilities are out of control as it is.

Spell check doesn't recognize "freakin'". Spell check recommends "foreskin" instead. Stupid spell check, I got your "foreskin" right here. Sorry, the heat makes me crazy. My grandparents come from Scandinavia, on both sides. One of them is from Canada, I just ain't built for this. Have to go, I'm leaving a slimey sweat trail on the chair, drops falling on the keyboard. Anybody still want to deny global warming?