I do have a brain

but I suspect it functions mostly as a counter balance for my butt.

Apt phrase

I'm just waiting for W to use the phrase 'manifest destiny' while defending his policies.

Honest.

Fall

Yeah, I know, I'm jumping the gun a bit but do I ever love fall. I just can't wait for summer to done - for the cool night air to come back and moderate the daily highs. It's started already, you can feel it in the early morning air. And about damned time, I say. I'll take a cold day over hot just about any day.

I'm working on my 'snow dance' now - just to be prepared.

Thoreau

"Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind."

Whatcha think of us now, Henry?

Unencumbered

Such a ponderous word working at cross purposes to its meaning. I feel the weight of many things as though it were tangible and measurable. Unlike Rand's Atlas, I shall not shrug. Besides, some of these burdens actually help support me.

But, some day long down the road, there maybe a time to set aside such. I look towards that horizon as I plod forward... What else is there?

The Power of Cripes Compels Me!

I had an eyebrow hair that was 1 - 3/8" long. Pretty soon the stuff will be growing out of my ears. Sucks to be old.

CRIPES!

"So, Young Man,

What do you want to be when you grow up?"

That's something I've never had a ready answer for. And here I am, slightly past middle age, contemplating that very thing. I know that while I'm certainly capable at what I do, it has never been something that I particularly enjoy. Certainly something I'm not passionate about - and I really should be.

But it's not in me. Never has been. An objective look back on the paths I have walked will show those chosen offered the least resistance. Don't get me wrong - life's been good to me so far, to quote Joe Walsh. I am truly fortunate and blessed. I just don't like what I do.

Problem is, I'm hard pressed to imagine what it would be that I would want to do - that would pay well, anyhow. A brief review of options shows that there are not many jobs out there that would pay me to sit in isolation somewhere and not interact with people or phones. There were no hits on Monster under the search 'Stump Sitter'.

But before I can get carried away, I have a job to do here. It may well be that the light at the end of the tunnel here is not actually a train - perhaps I'll feel different once I reach the other side...

Itch

A small possum gave up the ghost in our garage this morning.

Why he (she?) decided to drop dead inside the garage is anyone's guess. We do have a lot of junk stored there but I'm hard pressed to imagine what it was that might have caught its attention. Hard to put yourself into the mind of a possum - especially a dead one.

I grabbed a few plastic grocery bags to scoop him up then paused as it occurred to me that he might not be dead, that he might be, well, playing possum. So, after a few scientific pokes I decide that he is indeed deceased and bag him up.

On the way to work this morning I stopped to tank up ($60!! But that's another post) and notice a small bug on my hand. Before I could shoo it off it HOPS away.

Shit.

That had to have been a flea.

The bug reappears as I'm doing 70 on the highway. I try to pluck it off my pants but it hops again - not to be seen again. I know that it's probably still in the truck or left me at some point during my travels this morning. Still, you can't know for sure, can you?

So, of course, I'm itching like crazy this morning - my mind working over time to sense any skin disturbance as though the possum's parting gift were a biblical swarm of fleas rather than the one I found.

Tick

Some how I've developed an internal clock.

I didn't use to have one. I remember back in the day slapping the snot out of the snooze alarm and doing the fuzzy headed morning math to reason that I still had thirty minutes before I REALLY had to get up. Work, wife and kids have changed that when I wasn't looking. For the past few years, the alarm in my head has been stuck on 6am - regardless of how much sleep I got that night.

For the most part, this works. Early enough to be up and going during the work week. And not bad, really, on the weekend as it gives me time to enjoy some coffee and quiet time before the chaos that is children begins.

The real problem is when I have to be somewhere early. My internal clock knows that the alarm is now required to wake me at 4:30 so I can catch my flight. Apparently, it doesn't like the idea and does its level best to beat that clock. Which generally has me up at 2. It's then that the brain remembers the routine and works out that I still have two and a half hours of sleep: if I can fall back asleep that is.

Handbook

Where did it say that children can only be violently ill between the hours of 12 - 2am?

Foxholes

There be powerful magic deep down in them trenches - enough to change a man. I just wonder if that change is sustainable...

Warning!

The city spent big bucks to install one of those weather alert systems that blares an alarm every time a weatherman says the word 'tornado'. It also plays a voice recording, however the acoustics of our neighborhood being what it is, it can be rather hard to understand. I swear to you, last night after the alarm the system announced "Now batting for Pedro Borbon, Manny Mota... Mota... Mota" which was enough to send my family to the basement.

Complicated

I think life is too complicated.

"No shit," you say, "tell me something I don't know."

Well. Life is too fast. No one stops and tries to grasp what lies under the surface of their life - we're just too tied up in making the bee line as fast as possible - generally while talking on our cell phones.

Ever stop to think that maybe cell phones, computers, microwaves et cetera are not really necessary in order to make it through your day? I mean, do you really have to call someone as soon as the plane lands and comes to a complete stop at the gate? Is it necessary for your tea to be done in two minutes rather than the five it might take to actually boil water? Do you really, really need to TiVo the entire final four, as if you were going to watch all of the games?

In an effort to make our lives more convenient, we've made them more complicated. More gizmos, more gadgets. Shit you just have to have - for one reason or another. And it's not just technology - the phenomena can be safely filed under a glut of consumerism. We are now owned by our credit card companies, and the stuff we bought through them.

"Technophobe!" you cry. And you just might be right about it. But I'm not entirely sure that's a bad thing. I think the entire nation could use a deep breath. A chance to slow down and examine what's truly important. Years ago, when Bell took his invention to the public, the phones would only work while the operators were on shift - 8 to 5, I think - could you imagine what the world might be like if we were to go back to that? Crap, you might actually have to talk to your family. Face to face! Maybe even go out and physically meet your neighbors!

As for me, I'm planning a one man rebellion. I resolve not to cave in and buy a I-Pod. Yes, I know they rock. No more DVDs of a movie I may only watch two or three more times in my entire life. The same for books. I'm going to offload a bunch of stuff that has followed me around all these years - shift some weight - and have a garage sale. Or give to charity. Or something.

And what I do buy will be in the same spirit. Mid life crisis Harley? Nah, maybe just a bicycle - skip the fancy pants.

Nuts

It would come as no surprise to those that know me that I have 'squirrels in the attic'. This has always been kind of a figurative description but, of late, it has taken a very literal turn. Somehow the little buggers have managed to find a shingle loose which gives them access to a small gap between the roof decking and the fascia. They are living happily up in our attic, raising a family and basically living out what passes for the American Dream - squirrel version.

The problem? Well, aside from the hole in our roof that no longer keeps out the rain, they seem to be a little more nocturnal than we are and, since they're awake anyhow, think that 2 am is a great time to practice their sprints.

Truth be told, I like squirrels. Always have. They are clever, inventive and fearless - or nearly so, anyhow. And, yes dammit, they are cute. But I am really not enjoying the shared living space. I know in my heart of hearts that any non-lethal method of extracting them will probably not be successful. But until I exhaust my patience with the various home brew solutions I am not ready to break out the Daisy.

Maybe I could buy a paintball gun...

Rights.

Rights?

I'm tired of rights. I'm tired of everyone singling out why they are different and demanding legislation to mandate it. It will not be until we can set aside our petty biases on skin colors, sexual preferences, religion and even favorite baseball teams (okay, that may be too much of a stretch) that our race will be able to grow. I am pessimistic in that I don't forsee such ever happening. My rights should be the same as yours: no more and no less.

Upstream

Days can go by before you find something worthy to blog/post/update about. Even then one might try to stretch a mediocre topic into a readable story.

Then you have a weekend like this one, where the topics come fast and furious. You can go a while picking low hanging fruit but there comes a time - harvest time - where there is more than you can pluck. The best I can do is try and preserve some thoughts for later.

I'm quite unprepared for this crop!

Dear Walt Adams,

I hate you.

There. I said it. And I feel much better for it.

I don't hate you because you have name brand jeans available for $6.60 or instant coffee for $0.55. And your orange juice seems to be quite a bargain. Really. You are truly doing a great job with your prices.

No, I hate you for another reason and I know this is going to be hard for you to hear. Honestly, I need some space. I think we need to spend a little time apart. I would say that it's not you but, well, it is you. You're smothering me and I need out. My spam filter would like to see a little less of you as well.

50% of my spam mail comes from you. For your own sake, you need to branch out. Go find some other vicitims. There are other phish in the sea besides me. So go. Hold your head up high. Go find someone who will give you the time, attention and orders that you so desperately crave. Just be sure and take me off your list before I file a digital restraining order.

~ Lefty

Mean streets

So why is it that the most dangerous street in any city is always named after Martin Luther King? Seems kind of disrespectful to me.

Me? When I die, I hope they name a gore after me.

Look it up.

Purple Rain

Our office is surrounded by large oaks and, apparently, some kind of tree that has purplish berries on it. The last few afternoons, after loading up on glue, a huge flock of birds gorge themselves on these berries and then digest them while perched in the oak my truck is parked under.

Now, please note that I have done nothing in my life to deserve such treatment from birds - unless it's payback for the whole Thanksgiving thing on behalf of their turkey brethren. Which seems a bit of a reach but it's all I can think of.

Because of the glue, a run through the car wash won't do the job. You have to get out and scrape these purple seed splatters off. Having the tree removed seems a bit drastic but shy of cleaning out the Humane Society of all their cats, I can't figure out how to discourage these avians from pooping on my vehicle.

Maybe I could buy one of those paintball guns - that'd serve 'em right. Of course, I'd only use purple paint...

Whew.

They passed a law making it legal to wish someone Merry Christmas here in Georgia. The assembly should be so proud of their efforts!

God Bless America.

/sarcasm

Integrity

What the fuck happened to integrity? Personal responsibility?

Recently, our business lost two people. One on an extended leave who swore up and down that she would come back and another that just sort of dissappeared off the face of the earth. In both cases there was ample time to have addressed the situation. Fair warning would have been appreciated and their parting would have been dealt with cordially. But, no. Now we're scrambling to fill holes. Nothing like a fire drill...

Am I just expecting too much out of people today? Must the common denominator be so damned low?! Shit people, get your act together.

*grumble*