Quick Silver … Penny For Your Thoughts

Here you go!  This is for all of you like George Barenbrock who always had their science project turned in on time.  Back in the day, when we were kids, we used to take Mercury and smear it all over a penny, to make it look like a dime. 

Then we would go to the store and attempt to purchase a candy bar with it.  Try doing that today, I bought a candy bar over the weekend, and it was $1.39 plus tax.  My money doesn’t even slow down when it gets to me. 

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That Is The Way Things Roll …

California and the Bay Area. I am sitting here in the quiet tranquil morning time, drifting off, and thinking back to the “Good Ole Days” one of the luxuries of life I can still afford. Stirring up the dust, blowing the cobwebs out of my brain … Turn right and head on down Harder Road or up to Mission Blvd, maybe to the Plunge, how does that sound?  Maybe walk the long trail to the back of the park, check out the hollow dark cavities of my mind …

Sitting out front of Dad’s house, on his redwood fence, smoking a Marlboro, the cool breeze coming in off the bay, carrying the smell of tomato’s from the Hunt Cannery on B Street.

Saturday’s (and sometimes in the middle of the week, don’t tell Mrs. Ormsby) on the beach in Santa Cruz, the surf pounding, a gull swoops down to steal a potato chip off the blanket. An ice cold bottle of wine at the end of the string, buried in the sand.

A teenage girls’ husky laugh in the dark in the balcony of the Hayward downtown.  Two slow dances with Marylnn Matteson-Stith at the La Vista Cafeteria on Friday night.  Squatted, Indian fashion, on a boulder in the Sierra Nevada’s just outside Lake Tahoe.  A sky full of white wispy clouds and dragon flies.

A stolen kiss at the Grove after a Lancer’s Football game.

The smell of fresh cut Alfalfa wafting into the cab of the pickup in the valley outside of Manteca.  12 years old, sitting on top of the Hayward Hills, looking west to San Francisco, and seeing the city clearly, along with the Bay Bridge. Remembering back then, how it used to be, not like it is now, with the myriads of people and the pollution.


Sitting in the shade of a lofty majestic pine beside a deep hole in the Truckee River.  Hooking a big fish on a trip to Clear Lake.  Sleeping on a blanket on the grass in Golden Gate Park.  Working as a pool hand at the old swimming pool at Tennyson one summer.

Back in the day, back in the day.
Need to wrap this up, I am getting carried away.

Time to go, I have rambled on for long enough. Having sufficiently increased my word-count, I shall now retire, only to fight again, on another day. Back to the real world … I have rats to kill … checks to pay …

Life, what happens when you are not looking.



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Letters From Home …

DSC01665Letters from Home …  Today I will share with you something really special.  I have been considering this for a long time.  The month of February is almost complete, and I still have a lot of things I was going to do, left to do.  That is nothing new with me. Continue reading

Time In A Bottle


As the day of celebration inches closer, I am thinking of love, Valentine’s, issues of spring and memories of times long past.  At one time or another, I was considered a pretty romantic devil and knew the words, the moves, the good decisions in life came freely to me. Now I am old gray dog, that just wants to sleep on the front porch and bark at the mailman once a day.

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It’s Not Easy Being A Guy


Cold here this morning, fog rolled in and we are encased in a gray wet blanket, frozen drizzle is what the weather guessers call it and no sunshine in sight.  Wintertime is a hard time for me, this is the time of the year, when you try and figure out how to get 5’6” of kid to shovel off 4” of snow on the driveway.

thongWhen you sit, locked down in your quiet abode, and try your very best to not lose your mind, or rather, what is left of it.  That desperate time of the year and you check the mirror and say to yourself, “Did I have all this before Christmas?”  

When you look at all of the clothes hanging on the exercise machine and seriously contemplate removing them and “working out.”

Nah … Aint gonna happen.

January almost half-over and suddenly the anxiety attack hits me with the rush of a full grown pit-bull.  I have to get her something for Valentine’s Day, that illegal estrogen enriched holiday celebrated in America, sponsored by the chocolate moguls and those wonderful people who inhabit the cubicles of HallMark Cards.


Unfortunately despite my best efforts, I haven’t an inkling of what to do about it.  It is not easy being a complicated and often confusing member of the tribe of man, I am far too complex for a quick fix from a trendy Michael Jordan no-tag t-shirt or newly acquired Facebook social status, and a number three size washtub full of newfound friends.

I am a guy … Well, that should be enough right there to explain it.  Face it, I am a guy, and guys, well we do not have a clue. 

We cannot look at you and say something like: “I hope this special day is infused with beauty and light and that all your hopes and dreams crystalize into a loving reality emanating from an equally loving universe.  Keep thinking positive thoughts honey, I know there is a Brand-spankin-New-Prevo in your future …. Oprah was just saying the other day” …. and then I just kind of lose her.

I suppose in MY world it would or should have been different. 

Something like … I remember the first day we met and I laid it out for her.  “I’m a worn-out, emotional wreck who’s incapable of anything resembling warmth, love and intimacy, but I have a lot of money and you’ll never want for anything.  I am a lover, and a fighter, a dirty old boxcar rider …. Hey?  I even have a bus, and I look pretty good in a yellow T-shirt.”

Perhaps this cold, gray, nasty day would be a good time to work on my word skills, the fourteenth will be here before I know it.  And as usual, “I will be lost as a Goose on the whole thing.”


It’s often not easy being a guy … But someone has to do it.


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Jus Sayin 1216


She had that sad look in her eyes,
I could tell she was upset
maybe it was depression
just the battle scars of time

Looking at her I said:
“If you need a shoulder to lean on baby, I am here for you.”
And she said
“No thanks.  The smell of Ben Gay waters my eyes.”

Often life is like that, you never know
what is coming down the pike

I was in the restaurant yesterday,
kind of crowded,
but I still found a good seat

At that time,
suddenly quite by surprise my stomach growled deep down inside
This feeling came over me and I knew
I desperately needed to pass some gas.

The music in the Cafe was really, really loud,
so I timed my gas with the beat of the music.
After a couple of songs,
I started to feel much better.

Finishing my coffee I looked around the room
and noticed that everyone was staring at me.

Then I suddenly remembered that I was listening to my I-Pod.

Man, I just hate it when that happens.

Jus Sayin

Come Wake Me Up

Every now and then, like a blind hog, I get lucky and stumble upon an acorn.


This past weekend I happened upon this song and this video, and it seems to have haunted me ever since.


This video is most likely the best video I have seen in years, if it doesn’t stir you emotions, then I just don’t know what to say to you.


Watch it all the way to the end … It will move you.  

This will be the only post for today … please enjoy.


The New-You

Here lately, I have been devoting a lot of time and thought to the matter of Identity Theft.  Surely a serious concern in our day and age, the loss of one’s personal information to someone who is less than trustworthy with it. It amazes me the attitude of some credit agencies and banking institutions concerning this important matter.  It is stolen information, but you, the consumer, are responsible for it.  To make matters even worse, they get their files hacked, and allow your personal information to be compromised and you are still held accountable for that too.

Something is not right when this is allowed to happen.

It has never happened to me, so I have never had to endure this long process of recovery, but I can assure you it is still on my mind a lot of the time.  I am very stingy with my personal information because of it, to the extent of taking my mail to town to post, just in case.

Stepping outside my comfort zone … I wonder, if someone was to steal your information and assume your identity, why is it that you cannot just assume a totally new I.D.?

Now if that were the case that would certainly be a plus for me.  Would they take down all those old pictures at the Post Office? Would I be able to get a totally new VISA/MasterCard with increased generous limits?  While we are at it, I would like to be three inches taller, and someone, anyone, bring back my hair!  (Those other physical improvements that no longer work will be discussed in a separate post on a date that is yet to be announced) Would my wife recognize me, would my dog allow me to reach down and pet him on top of his head?

Important questions.

Then there is the bright side, there is always a bright side, didn’t you know that?  All those people who call you and want to solicit your vote, they will not have your new-you identity and your new-you telephone number.  No more calls for storm windows and doors, carports on the front of your house, that guy is no longer around.

And because you live in you newly established new-you world, no pesky letters from Clearing House Sweepstakes.  You are not a finalist anywhere on the planet, the old-you gets that stuff now, you as the new-you get nothing.

The I.R.S. cannot find you, you no longer exist, as the new-you just just kind of slipped thru the cracks as the politicians are so fond of describing the practice of corruption and theft in this country.

The bartender no longer will be able to give you your usual, as you as the new-you, are not all that familiar with him to begin with.  All the old sad songs no longer apply in your new happy life, the sad songs and the down stuff on the radio and television is now for the old-you.

The new-you won’t be able to just leave love alone.

In the dark you will slide over to her side of the bed, you put your lips up to her ear and whisper sweet nothings to her and surround her with newly found energized affection and love.  The heart in the new-you chest is beating hard and fast, the perspiration beads up in the temple of your new-you head and you sigh, long and hard, as you pull her body close to you.

She then says … “Knock it off, I am tired.  I have to work tomorrow.  Go to sleep.”

Which just goes to show you, “you can only take a totally new-you so far in this world” some things work for the betterment of man, and some things do not.

But what the hey?

It is always worth the shot.


Link info:  One of the features of this site is the ability to ascertain what people are looking at, and what they are ignoring on any given day.  We have noticed a lot of folks are ignoring the links.

Links are inserted into the post to refer you to other items of interest or information.  When you see a link, all you have to do is click on it, and it will automatically take you to that site or info.  After viewing that information or photo, all you have to do is hit the back page arrow and you are right back here.

It has been noted that a lot of our readers in their haste to get thru the piece are disreguarding the links and not utilizing them.  This is sad, because you are missing out on a lot of good stuff at times, and you never get to see or experience it.  Just thought we would take a moment to point that out.

Close Encounters

The monkey never learns.  You see, the monkey he loves brown rice, and he knows that if he sticks his hand inside the enclosure, he is going to get shocked.  He knows that it will hurt and it will cause him pain, but he loves the rice, so he sticks his hand in the enclosure one more time.

The room seemed incredibly warm, it could have been the wine, sometimes it has that effect on me.  Looking across the table, she radiates her beauty and everything has that feeling of being just right.  The food is excellent, the waiter is most attentive, and my woman is smiling back at me.  I am not hitting all of them out of the park, but I believe I am getting some base hits, it is going to be a good night.

After dinner, I tell her, “I have a surprise for you.”

She looks at me, and then says, “Oh yeah, what could you have after all this?  This was terrific.”

Sliding her chair out from the table, I reach down and grab her hand, and then smile, “Walk this way my dear.”

The hallway is basically empty and there are not a lot of people about for a Friday night, I am somewhat surprised.  Walking over to the elevator, I punch the button marked up and the doors open.

She looks at me and says, “What’s going on?”  I just smile my toothy smile and say … “Be patient.”

Short ride up to the room, I slip the plastic card into the magnetic card reader, the little green light illuminates and there is a distinct metallic click.  Opening the door, we walk into the room and she smiles, and then says to me, “Ohhhhh, this is nice.”

So far so good.

I pull her close to me and I breathe in the scent that is my woman, she feels good in my arms, she not only entices me, she excites me at the same time.  I kiss her softly and then say to her, “Let’s make love.”

She says, “No we better not.”  I am taken back, after all of my scheming, my planning, all of this, she says “NO?”

I ask her why …. She says “the boys might hear us.”

Which just flabbergasts me to no end, I have heard this before, I have heard it far too many times in my life.

Desperately trying to hold onto what sanity I have left I say … “What?  Are you kidding me?”

She says, “No.  SOMEONE will hear us.”

So I reason with her, maybe this will work.  “No one is going to hear anything, let’s get it on.”

She looks at me with those big brown eyes, eyes a man could drown in, and says “Give me one good reason.”

I sigh, and say “Okay.  I will give you two.

#1 … Listen, the boys are grown and long gone, the youngest one is 39 years old for cryin’ out loud.

And #2 … we are at the Marriott Inn.”

The poor, poor monkey … he never learns.