Creative Endeavors

As I am a firm believer that people come to this page to be uplifted, informed, amused and even to some respects, entertained.  I feel it would be doing those faithful readers of this page, a disservice to keep ranting about “my issues with WordPress.com” and I am going to put up something positive.

It does absolutely no good to rant about this, I am not going to keep diggin’ up a dead horse just to see if it smells bad.  If it walks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck, then most people would consider it to be a duck. I am going to keep tagging this stuff the way I want to tag it and hopefully it will be posted somewhere where folks might be able to see it.

As for it being “recent, random, life or whatever” I will allow the God’s to make that decision.  I am going to just keep taggin it the way I see it and the rest of it is now history.  So here you go because you are so special and they are not … two posts at 5:00 PM and Lord knows where they will go after we hit the publish button ……….

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Eight years ago, the 1,500 residents of the Kenyan village of Lwala sold chicken and cattle to raise $900 in airfare so that one their boys, Milton Ochieng, could enter Dartmouth College.  Today Milton is a graduate of Vanderbilt University Medical School and, along with his brother Fred, who followed him to both alma maters, he has repaid the favor by building a clinic in his home village.

People helping people, something you don’t seem to hear about much these days.

The brothers raised $150,000 for the clinic, which in its first year has seen 20,000 patients, most of them for free.  “It makes you feel great to be a doctor,” said Milton.  An amazing feat when you stop to consider that this all occurred in a third world country, not some Mega Super Power.

Fifty four years ago, Jan Zacharda lost her Ludington, Michigan, high school ring in the depths of Lake Micigan.  Last month she got a call from Robert Savage, who had found it with a metal detector.  Savage had actually discovered the ring some 12 years ago, but couldn’t locate its owner; though Zacharda’s class year, 1955, was clearly stamped on the ring.

Along with the initials “J.P.” for Jan Pedersen her maiden name.

But Savage recently got hold of the Ludington yearbook for the class of ‘55 and found only one name with the right initials.  He then began calling all the are Pedersen’s until he found one who knew Jan.  Kind of nice to know that there are still some honest people out there.

Not so smart file:  A sense of privilege, after a first-class passenger on a Delta Airline flight from New York became so angry that economy passengers were let off the plane ahead of him, that he opened an emergency hatch and slid down the chute!  The indignant passenger was promptly arrested.

The absolute best one that has come to my attention this week is the California woman who whipped out her .44 caliber Magnum and began firing at mice scurrying across the floor of her trailer.  A .44 Magnum, man, talk about “overkill” that is kind of unreal right there.

But wait … It gets better.

She drops the gun (more than likely reaching for another beer) and it fires a bullet that pieces her knee, bounces off a friends keychain, and grazes his groin before coming to rest in his coin pocket.  And people wonder what type of person lives in a Mobile home?

But wait, it gets even worse.  A diabetic Illinois woman is recovering after he dog chewed off her big toe!  (I am not making this up).  The 56 year old woman who suffers with numbness in her lower extremities says she dozed off in the afternoon (not an uncommon occurrence with diabetics) and her 1 year old miniature dachshund, Roscoe, (again I am not making this up), snuggled at her feet, starts gnawing on her foot.

When she awoke from the nap, and looked down, and saw Roscoe dining at the big toe buffet, she screamed!  At that time, her daughter ran into the room and discovered the dog munching away.  I believe her exact quote was:  “I didn’t think when I went in there I was going to see that..  It is hard to take in when you walk into a room and there’s a dog eating your Mom.”

Duh  — You think so?

It has been a somewhat interesting week, I could tell you about Hugh Hefner’s new book and how he describes choking on a sex toy and one of his well-endowed scantily clad roomies saving him.  But I cannot figure out an appropriate tag for something like that, so I am letting it slide for now.

000

Hi there,

Can you please provide a link to the post that is having this problem? Does this happen with all new posts?

Thanks,
Heather
Automattic | WordPress.com

So I patiently outline and provide specific items that need to be addressed. I answer all questions to the best of my knowledge.

—– Original Message —–

From: “Heather @ WordPress.com” <support@wordpress.com>

To: <donsmith@cox.net> Sent: Monday, July 14, 2008 8:32 PM Subject: [WordPress #FOA-595595]: disappearing posts.

Hi Don, Thanks for your updates on this issue. We’ve created a new FAQ to help clarify how the tag surfer works and potential reasons why posts may not display there. One or more of these items is likely the cause for the issues you’re encountering:

http://faq.wordpress.com/2008/07/15/my-post-doesnt-show-up-in-the-tag-list-what-gives/

Also note that multiple attempts to push a post to the top of the tag surfer by changing the publication date could also be the cause.

Thanks,
Heather
Automattic | WordPress.com

Well, that is a nice theory, but it doesn’t hold water.  First, I am not using the tag surfer to locate the posts, I just go to the category and look for the post, it is there and then it is not there.  Second, it often doesn’t post at all.

There is no reason for it to post some of the material 17 posts down in the page, displaying it some three weeks later, AND NOT DISPLAYING IT ON THE DAY IT WAS PUBLISHED, it should in my opinion go to the top of the page, not buried deep within it.

At the very least …. It ought to go somewhere.

Somehow I just “knew that this would work out to be ME instead of wordpress” and I am not surprised at all.  First I am told that it was because there were too many tags on the posts, so I cut the tags back, and the problem remains.  Now it appears that I am the problem?  What a load of crap that is.

As for “pushing it with multiple dates” that is BS too.  I was just trying to make it appear, hell it wasn’t even showing up most of the time.  It is a sorry deal, no two ways about it and “Frequently Asked Questions” is not a solution it is a cop out.
To: <donsmith@cox.net>

Sent: Tuesday, July 15, 2008 8:32 PM  Subject: [WordPress #FOA-595595]: disappearing posts.

Hi Don,

Tag pages show the best, most recent posts - not all of them. To ensure that future posts continue to show up on tag pages, please follow the guidelines on http://faq.wordpress.com/2008/07/15/my-post-doesnt-show-up-in-the-tag-list-what-gives/

Again, the more relevant the post is to the tag, the more likely it is to show up in the listings. You may want to assess the relevance of the “recent” tag in relationship to your post’s content.

Thanks,
Heather
Automattic | WordPress.com

Recent: 1. having happened not long ago: having happened or appeared not long ago the recent birth of her daughter. 2. modern: from current times or the very near past recent political trends

Random: 1. without a pattern: done, chosen, or occurring without a specific pattern, plan, or connection random testing for drugs. 2. lacking regularity: with a pattern or in sizes that are not uniform or regular a wall constructed of random stones

I know the definition of the words, thanks. That didn’t help a bit. It must be nice to just keep dancing all around the problem, that way you don’t have to admit you have a problem, and heaven forbid, try and fix it.

“Tag pages show the best, most recent posts - not all of them.” Your words not mine.

Why even have a page if you are not going to post it? Who determines what “the best is?”  When you post something (best or otherwise) and it “buries it 17 deep” that is not recent, that is plain pathetic.

When a post goes up, and then after a period of time, disappears, but the others remain, that tells me that YOU have a problem, and it is NOT the author of the post. I also find it a little coincidental, that after squealing like a stuck pig, four out of five of my posts actually survived one day and that only one disappeared yesterday.

That has to be some kind of new wordpress.com record, might want to put that on the global dashboard tomorrow.

I will admit that in the beginning because of my lack of understanding, I may have caused some of the problems with the tags (I had way too many) and that could have been part of it. In my defense I will admit to seeing multiple postings here with more than the 12 tags, I have counted as high as 18 on one post.

I have actually seen 25 posts in order by one author, which is tantamount to spam, but it is evidently tolerated.  But that is a completely different issue. My problem remains, after making the necessary corrections the problem is still here, so I seriously doubt it is anything on this end of the line.

I write about life, recent happenings in America or where I live, I have occasionally have a random thought on subjects that are affecting me and those I know.  So you tell me where to put it? You tell me how to tag it?  (And your “first choice” doesn’t count)

You ask for “specifics” and when you are provided with them, you choose to ignore them or blow it off. But this latest answer here (or non answer), this is just verbal masturbation and nothing more.

I might as well be talking to robots.

So Heather at support (which in this case is laughable at best):

Hi There.  I have posted 282 posts on this site since March of this year, and have received 360 comments from over 10,191 people around the world.  Which I believe is a noteworthy accomplishment, considering I was “doing it all wrong.”  Now I am going to post this and hopefully it will go somewhere ……. Where ever that might be?

Now you can go back to your personal emails or video games and forget about the rest of it. Don’t send me any more correspondence with your “suggested reading lists” which are basically useless.

000

Tags: Please Read. Please Post. Please put this three pages deep so no one will ever see it. Please remit your annual $30 payment for a crappy system that refuses to work in the order or fashion that it promises.

DS

Barack’s House

(Parody of Brick House by The Commodores)

Ow! It’s The White House
We finally might be
Just letting a bro hang out
Obama’s White House
He might paint it black
Put a hoop out back
Rush Limbaugh has a heart attack

Ow! Barack’s House
Well come November everybody knows
This is how the story goes

Obama beats John McCain
Then he rolls on up the moving van
Yeah, Yeah! How can he lose
To some old white dude
50 states
November 4 2008 he’s a winning man

His crib’s The White House
Yeah! Thanks to Oprah Winfrey
He’s been letting his soul hang out
It’ll be Barack’s house
First Lady’s got back
That’s a fact
You better not talk no smack Yow

Chick a change chick a chane change
Beat McCain with a cane now
Getting down getting down now
Getting down

Ow! Barack in The House
Yeah! Not just for whitey
We’re letting the bro hang out
Barack’s house
Yeah! He’s the one
The chosen one
We’ll move him into Washington

Thanks to KZOK 102.5 FM Seattle.

DON’T USE A RECENT TAG OR AN OKLAHOMA TAG IF YOU WANT YOUR POST READ, BOTH CATEGORIES ARE EATING POSTS AND WORDPRESS.COM SEEMS TO WANT TO DO NOTHING ABOUT IT.  POST IT SOMEWHERE ELSE ….

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THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: “If life is so good, then why is it, that we often feel so badly?”

What do teenagers of all income groups have in common? A love of money.  Once a year, the Harrison Group, a marketing consulting company in Connecticut, surveys 1,300 teenagers 13 to 18 across the U.S. about their financial attitudes. This year’s study included an in-depth look at those raised in affluent households, those with more than $150,000 in annual income.

Seventy percent of all the teens surveyed said they wanted more money. Half agreed that money “may not buy happiness, but it comes close.” And 34%, up from 29% in 2004, said “it is hard to be truly happy without a lot of money.”

Not surprisingly, teens raised in more-affluent households had distinctive spending habits and brand preferences. For example, more than 70% of them said they love luxury-car models such as Mercedes-Benz, BMW and Lexus.

The study also noted that “Inner-city kids are taught more about sex and drugs and violence than how to take care of money,” the article goes on to say. “The poor kids were fearful because they didn’t know how it (personal money management) worked, and they didn’t want to take risks.”

It appears that in America … “Wealthy people value time; poor people value stuff.”  In our case, Cup Cake and I, have too little of the first, and way too much of the second.

At the core of the problem, could be the message that we send our children.  Chicago’s public-school system recently has awarded a brand new car to a “12 year old girl, as a reward for her perfect school attendance record.” Now how sad is that?  She cannot legally drive the $15,000 Dodge Caliber for another four years, and critics question whether such lavish gifts send the wrong message to children.

Duh, you think so?

There are some schools of thought, at least my old man had one, and it was, “learning and achievement” were rewards in themselves.  If you can do simple math, if you are able to read this, then be thankful for your education.

Meanwhile the dork that runs the Chicago Public Schools said that this prize was a vital weapon in the fight against truancy and that they were not going to (ever) apologize for that.  My dad had a prize for truancy; it was called a trip to the woodshed.

Meanwhile out on the left-coast, a student at Tesoro High School in affluent Orange County, Kali-fornyuh, was charged with 69 criminal counts for allegedly hacking into the school computer and changing all of his bad grades to A’s.  When asked the reason for his criminal behavior the kid replied that he just wanted to make sure he got into a good college.

Back in the day, when I brought my report card home, and it was all A’s, I would be automatically suspect for sure.  Just didn’t happen.  I remember one day my Dad said, “What you get on your report card?” and I replied, “I dunno, I think it is a Full House … 3 D’s and 2 C’s.”

That dog didn’t hunt either.

000

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: If you live in the State Of Oklahoma … “At all times, wear your dentures, and never wave at the Video Camera.”

Woke up this morning, feeling absolutely terrible, stuck my finger and the sugar is out of sight again, digits are snake-bit high ….. No wonder I feel hammered. But boy the Fried Rice and the Almond Cookies last night, they were really good.  Today I have to pay the price.

As I understand it, motorists are still in trouble.  Earlier I reported that more and more folks are being towed in by wrecking services now with the rising price of fuel. AAA reports that tow-ins are increasing, as American’s are buying less motor fuel and leaving their tanks close to empty. AAA has reported a “doubling of calls” from stranded motorists needing a tow.

Some media outlets are reporting people pawning off personal items, in order to purchase fuel. Theft of some metals is up nationwide, and the scrap business has reached new highs. Forget the pawnshops, you may have a good source of extra cash right there in your own home.

Young audiophiles are rediscovering vinyl records, which many deem to have “better sound and quality” over CD’s and MP3 players. Artists such as Elvis Costello and Radio-head are releasing alums on vinyl, and sales of turntables have spiked about 500% every year for the past four years. Even my own grandson (14 yrs old) came over the other day and raided a box of old wax out in the garage and took several home with him.

So dust off that Arrow Smith, Pure Prairie League and The Dead, if you can bare to part with them, you could be sitting on a Goldmine. I would be willing to part with just about most all of it except my Lawrence Welk Remembers Woodstock Album, that is a keeper, I cannot sell that one.

A pack of smokes in New York has gone to $10 per pack ($100 a carton) yesterday as they again applied a sin tax to some poor sucker. The new plan in New York is to have the weak and the addicted take care of the majority I guess.

Why people continue to smoke at these prices amazes me, pack of Marlboro’s is over $4 in Oklahoma now. Having given up smoking some twelve years ago, I took a calculator and figured out my daily consumption rates on tobacco. Then I took the current price of a pack of Marlboro’s (my smoke of choice, which is now over $4.77 per pack) doing the math as my daddy used to say, it appears that someone owes me about $31,400 to be exact.

Where did the money go? I wonder why I don’t have that exact amount in my change drawer or a secret account at the bank?  I had this friend, a guy, who didn’t smoke.  He was adamant about it, he would not allow anyone to step inside his apartment that smoked.  But if he met some chick he wanted to bed, he would allow her to barbecue a goat in the living-room!

Not long ago, I asked this cute little girl, why in the world was she smoking. She said that it helped with her weight problem. Which I suppose is correct. In the end, it will cure your weight problems; smoking will cure ALL of your problems eventually.

000

Listening to Oldies on Internet Radio, going back in time, such a sweet thing, a luxury now.  It was a quiet time, and I felt I would be alright, I didn’t have to wake up each and every morning and worry about what is going to happen today.

You see it your way and I see it my way, here in my heart I give you the best of my love, the benefit of my extended thought processes and good intentions.

Wouldn’t it be good if you could somehow locate a playlist from June of ‘65 or that period of time.  That would be a trip, I might have to do that this week.

Life was pretty good in ‘65 as I remember it. (It might also pay to note here, that the sixties were especially good to me, and I don’t remember a lot of it, but what I do, well, that was okay.)

What a regimen.

Take my call, go to the yard, mount up on the beast and head out of town … another day on the road. A lover and a fighter, a dirty old freight train rider. The major emphasis was on “chasing the buck, making the almighty dollar, putting some grub on the table and buying the essentials for the good life.”

Not like it is today. I could sleep well with the backdoor unlocked, didn’t need a locking gas cap on my truck, security lights, my fellow drivers waved at me with all their fingers. Not like it is today. Today things are a lot different, it is a whole new ballgame, but strangely, it remains the same, if you can follow that line of thinking.

Bought some gas this morning, now that was a real bummer. My money, much like yours, isn’t even slowing down when it gets to me anymore. One of these days I fully expect to hear my banker say, “I am sorry, but your collateral is insufficient for your loan on two packs of Twinkies, and we have to decline you at this time, sorry.”

Yeah, you sure are.

Here I sit all dirty and dusty from trying to rub my Charcoal Briquettes together and start our backyard barbecue (I cannot afford starter fuel anymore). We are having burgers, with hamburger helper, added to the hamburger helper, no chips. Kool-Aid to wash it all down, or as they used to refer to it in the service, “bug juice.”

Things are getting so tight, that even the Mexican’s are now on the move.  Like the tide, it appears that they will come and go with the ebb of the economy.  According to informal surveys by the Mexican consulate in Dallas, most of those wanting to return to Mexico cite the sudden scarcity of jobs, fear of deportation and uncertainty about obtaining legal resident status any time soon.

But others think that immigrants returning to their countries won’t hurt the U.S. economy. “The country’s economy adjusted to the immigrants’ presence. No doubt it will adjust to their absence,” said Ira Mehlman, national spokesman for FAIR, an organization opposed to illegal immigration. “That these people are leaving proves what we have been saying for years,” he said. “If you begin enforcing the law to prevent them getting what they come here to get, they will go.”

According to the article, as the moment to leave came, José Luis Sánchez and his family didn’t have an idea of the Mexico awaiting them. From their family, they expect everything. From their home country, not much. “We’re going to continue living by the day, for sure,” he said. “But psychologically we’re going to be better. With our family, without fears, without pressures. It’s worth the difficulties.”

And, he added, “The American Dream is just that – a dream.”

Mexicans that are staying are sending less money home.  Mexico’s central bank said remittances from Mexicans working abroad fell some 2.6% in the first five months of 2008.  A vastly slowed down economy, immigration “enforcement” have led to the downturn of funds leaving the U.S.A.  There goes Mexico’s virtually cost free second economy or source of foreign income.

Now let’s see if they can “complete globally like the rest of us?  On a shrinking dollar that is worth less than twenty five cents.”

000

You ever get tired of television or the Sunday Paper telling you that your not as beautiful as you should be, or strong enough, or fashionable enough to fit in. You ever get tired of a constant steady stream of bad news on the airwaves.

Television news broadcasters assault us with story after story of how bad things are in the world these days.

If it bleeds … Then it leads. Seems to be the most popular approach to television news. Bad news is the new mantra of the twenty-first century. Get used to it.

Yesterday my next door neighbor, Marc, said to me, “If I hear one more sound bite on gasoline, McCain or Obamma. I am going to take a gun and blow my brains out!” I have to agree, on some days I am right in there with him on that.

By the time you reach age 18 it is estimated that you have seen approximately 200,000 violent acts on television, some of that includes murders, at about 16,000. Each of us deals on a daily basis with this kind of stuff and I figure over the years, just like anything else, it has to affect us.

Taking it one step further, I will go out on a limb here and venture that a great many of us have become “addicted to all this bad news” even though we are painfully aware it is no good for us, we still seek it out.

We have to have it. It is our elixir of life for the day.

Now one of these days I figure, things are going to turn around, and all of the news is going to be good for a change. Things are going to slow down in our favor, and life is going to vastly improve for the majority of us. Money won’t be tight, she will never have a headache, cable tv will be free.

(Hey? This is MY story, ok?)

What about those poor unfortunate folks who are addicted to nothing but bad news. They are going to miss it something terribly. That is why I have decided to print a “Bad News Paper” for all those folks who cannot stand to live without their daily dose of bad news.

The Bad News Gazette will contain: Negative thought, bad memories, hard times. Because they are addicted to it. They are going to miss all this, that is where I come in, I am gonna print a bad news paper. Having found themselves cruelly missing this, I will provide it for them. That I am afraid is the down side.

But here is the upside, I should make millions.

My 911 at-large-mobile-correspondent in Nevada, (Art) has come up with some possible headlines.  We feel as if these will be suitable for the first start off additions of the Bad News Gazzette, check out the new headlines here.

000

“A man who represents himself in a court, has a fool for an attorney.” Some guy recently busted for urinating in public did this very thing. Representing himself at trial, Mr. Huppe fired a colorful line of questions at the officer including, “Did you see me take my thing out and urinate?” and “Did you test DNA to see if it was my urine?”

Here is the part I like … Mr. Huppe shouted at the officer during the June 24 trial, “Swear on a Bible and say it was Mr. Huppe’s urine!” The officer testified he did not test DNA from the urine puddle. Then the judge ordered Mr. Huppe to “take a deep breath” and promised the verdict would be forthcoming.

My kind of guy.

BOULDER - A 25-year-old Boulder, Colorado man is in jail after police discovered he had been living on the roof of a T-Mobile store since December. Police say Luke Barrett pleaded guilty to trespassing and obstructing an officer after his arrest Friday. Barrett told officers that he was homeless and started living on the top of the building in December.

According to the T-Mobile store, employees had a suspicion that someone was living on the roof. Cleaning employees and maintenance crews said on two occasions they found and removed cushions, garbage and a sleeping bag from the roof. Now think about this. You are living on the top of a building in Colorado in the dead of winter?

It’s a wonder the guy doesn’t have frostbite.

Priceless … 6 year old Bennett Christiansen of Illinois was approved for a credit card with a $600 limit. The boy had accurately filled in an application, listing his birth date as 2002 and his income of $0. We had “plastic surgery here about five years ago” and that was the best thing that ever happened to us. No more credit cards, which in our case was a good thing. You know how to tell if you are over your limit, when you are standing in the line and the girl swipes your card, all the lights in the building kind of dim for a moment.

You are over your limit.

An Australian bridegroom was horrified to learn after he had walked down the aisle that he was already married — after a drunken holiday romance he could barely remember. The husband has had to confess in the Family Court that he spent 28 days partying and drinking in Arizona in 1978 on leave from his job as a cook on the oil rigs.

He can remember the “nice” blond American woman he met through a pen pal newspaper advertisement — but little more. “He has no recollection of going through any form of ceremony of marriage with her, or of discussing marriage, or of anything referable to marriage,” said Justice Sally Brown, who annulled the marriage last month.

Not only that, but the man, who describes himself as an old-fashioned romantic, was already married at the time — to his wife of 14 years. Yesterday the 67-year-old, who cannot be identified, told The Daily Telegraph “the sky fell in” when he was shown the Arizona marriage license. He married his Hawaiian girlfriend in 2006 and applied to live in Hawaii with her that U.S. immigration authorities broke the bad news.

A drilling rig in Arizona, C’mon? This has to be Media Fatigue, made up crap.

B’sides everyone knows, if you get drunk for 28 days in a row, you have to file a special permit with the EPA so they can tell you where to bury your liver!

This has got to be bogus; we need to get back to the “real news” in America.

The upcoming presidential election which will determine who voters hate more: Successful, attractive African-Americans or good ol boy mossbacks that smell like Old Spice and pancakes. Who gave the government “the right” to tell us what kind of light bulbs to buy. Why Al Gore still consumes 50% more electricity than the average American after extensive renovations to his Tennessee home.

Important stuff like that.

000

The most pleasant of dreams last night and this morning I am lying in bed, watching the crack in the blinds illuminate with the morning sun and thinking. What a pleasant night of sleep, rarely happens anymore, and the thoughts that permeate my mind are lovely, it was a night of rest.

In the dream I am introduced to a man, a news reporter and he starts telling me of what he has covered lately and how he wrote about it. And the words just suddenly appear as he is thinking of them, sort of telepathically speaking, they just materialize or appear on the cover of the notebook and I am so fascinated by this.

Not by the huge piece of construction equipment that is being unveiled for the very first time that we are there to report on, but by how effortlessly this man seems to be communicating his very thoughts to me.

In the next room I hear the parrot rattling her water dish, she is ready to get up and face the new day, I want to linger some more. To lie in my bed and take in what the night has given me, this strange and wonderful gift of time, shared with me in the dark. And then perhaps later on I will write about it, and the words will come to me as if almost floating on gossamer wings and thought is so pure and good.

Perhaps in every writers soul there is a trigger, a place where he yearns to be able to write that one perfect sentence, that juncture in life, where he will chronicle the item, the prose, the short story, that will touch someone in a profound way and make a difference in a life.

I like a good dream, don’t you?

So for a brief moment in time, all of it seems to shut down, everything is absolutely right in my world, I don’t have to deal with some weasel in Austin, Texas, who is lifting stuff from my page, altering it and changing it, then re posting the adulterated crap in MY name and calling it MY opinion. Who then runs and hides behind some vague disclaimer of his own making, believing it will shelter him in the bitter end, when it comes time to pay for the band, make retribution for his sins.

It will not save him.

In this moment I don’t have to mess with the Cable Company or the Insurance payment, there is no cacophony of lawnmowers or barking dogs, on my horizon to disturb my peace of mind, there is only this. This sweet little crazy dream, a message of good news and hope for me in my apparent nocturnal time of need. I am refreshed, I can feel a stirring in my spirit and it is a welcome relief from the pressures of today’s world. I lie in the quiet and I relish the moment. I want to bottle it up and save it for another day.

And it is good.

I am sitting here listening to the radio, and the lady is softly singing to me, enticing me to thoughts impure and surreal. I find myself wondering “If anyone will cry and mourn my passing” when I leave this mortal coil. I know that might sound macabre to a certain extent and I apologize for it, but my passing which is a sure and very real thing, will eventually happen.

Will anyone miss me, will there be tears shed for me and me only?

Like most men, I will someday stand before God, and it is my profound hope that I will be able to pull my tired old hands out of my pockets, smile and say, “Lord I bring nothing. I have used all that you have given me. I have not, one single talent left in my life.” Strange thoughts I seem to run the gauntlet of human emotions early in the morn, as the birds sing and come online to greet the new day.

Taking in a deep breath, I open up one more time and allow life to embrace me. Sleep last night was good and my dreams are of pleasant endeavors.  One less thing to worry about in my life, and its a beauty. I am a fortunate pilgrim indeed.

One more trip down the path to the well.  And I have come to a point of understanding. Dreams have only one owner at a time.  Sorry, but that is a bare-bones fact. This is also why dreamers are so lonely.

And of course, “Life is so dog-gone short, why not give a little something back?”

000

* The photo was gnanked from Radio Girl but I am pretty sure she won’t mind.  Do yourself a favor and go over there and check it out, it’s not all that far, and it is definitely worth the trip.

Have to be honest about all this, here lately, a great many things “escape me” at the moment. Another year older and Father Time has called my name. Like a thief in the night, he marched right in here and stole but another year. This one, much like a freight train with no brakes at all, is rollin’ right on down the hill, out of control.

Attended a gathering of old school chums over the weekend. We are all graying out, getting much older. This was our 43rd meeting, time has a way of slippin’ by doesn’t it. 43 years would be considered the span of a man’s lifetime in the bible or some third world countries today.

On the fifth reunion I snuck out into the parking lot and a buddy and I shared a doobie and laughed long and hard. On the Tenth it was again a doobie (actually this time it took two) and some Crown Royal to wash it down. On the tenth, as I remember it, Cancer had show up and taken a few away and the mood was something akin to somber. Now when we arrived at twenty it was a line or two of crank in the boys bathroom … and this year … Well, this year was a good comfortable lawn chair and a Diet Coke.

You have to grow up eventually; time takes a toll on a body.

Thankfully, we are not the rowdy bunch that we used to be. Age has taught us that if you have the choice between humble and cocky, go with cocky. There’s always time to be humble later on when you have been proved horrendously and irrevocably wrong.. Age has a way of teaching even those who are not paying attention, a valuable lesson from time to time.

Graciously time has taught us all a new trick or two on the path to our Golden Years. Even a Baby Boomer will reach a juncture where he has or is forced to grow up. Our generation being no different than those who came before us, everyone gets a turn it seems.

Like Sonny & Cher were fond of saying, “The Beat Goes On” … The beat goes on, the beat goes on, drums keep pounding rhythm to the brain, ladda dada dee, ladda dada dah. History has turned a page, a-hah.

I guess it is all relevant, I am just as young as ever, but lately it takes a lot more effort. Like Dolly Parton is fond of saying, “It takes a lot of money to look this bad sugar.” Which might be appropriate for me at this juncture in time. I am still just as gorgeous as I ever was, it just takes me a little bit more effort and money to get me there.  If I were born a woman, I would have need of a “Sugar Daddy” for sure.

Wow, forty-three years that just seems impossible, for lack of a better word. I have reached a point in time, where I am no longer warned to slow down by the Police, but rather, by my doctor instead. Some people grow up and spread cheer, I just sorta grew up, and then spread! Much like the biblical passage … “All things must pass” … I used to eat like a horse, now I look like one.

Life is so unfair at times.

With age, I find that things eventually change. I am now starting for the house after a night on the town about the time I started to go elsewhere when I was young. Sign of the times I guess. Now is the time we learn to watch our step. We are doing that. Except we are not stepping out that much anymore.

The best thing about getting older is the fact that all those things you couldn’t have when you were young, you no longer want. You reach a point where you don’t worry about where the wife goes, as long as you don’t have to go with her. The shapely female figure no longer turns your head, and the Easy Boy Recliner calls your name.

No longer having to worry about avoiding temptation, it avoids me, at least most of the time it does. Lately I have more on my mind, than I have on my head. As my wife and I are virtually the same age, she no longer fibs about hers, she lies about mine instead.  There were two judges in attendance, and I learned a thing or two from them.  For instance:  There are times not to flirt.  When you’re sick.  When you’re with children.  When you are on the witness stand. Remember that, could be important some day.

Funny how things work out.

I have to be honest. Most of the time, I do not understand my brain. Some days I do not understand my heart. I fool myself into believing that I am just starting out on but one more Grand Adventure — Middle Age. I will announce to all or those who actually care, that I am now “Middle Aged.” Knowing full well that I do not know one solitary single soul over the age of one hundred twenty-two years alive on this planet.

Everyone knows that in America, youth is good and old is bad, right?

Women never tell their true age, why should it be any different for a man. But with all this gray in my hair (as I neglected to start coloring it at age forty, like the modern magazines said most American men do) trying to fool everyone would be a waste of time. The tell-tale signs of longevity are there, plainly displayed, for all to see. I noticed at this reunion that the word “well preserved” seem to take on a totally new meaning for me.

B’sides, messing with my hair is simply just too much work, for a low maintenance guy like me. This is something at my age, I just naturally try to avoid.

So we all sat around, we more than likely ate too much, the pictures of the new grandbabies were broke out, and we all described in detail our aches, our pains, we compared our prescriptions. Whether or not some Okie in a pickup with a gun rack, running up and down the Interstate with his tail-gate down can actually save fuel, important issues.

Middle America has arrived.

Whiling away the day in the heat of an Oklahoma afternoon, we told the old familiar stories on each other and we seemed to agree on one important thing: “A happy childhood is the worst possible preparation for life. Life never throws you a straight ball to hit, it always throws you a curve.”

See all of you next year.

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