Murmuration

We are fantastic and amazing and wonderful. Yet, we still have not learned that nature is so much more.

It's a Shitter, right?

Well humans, here we are. Part of me wants to blame American's for this but the rest of humanity has allowed us to get here. Another part of me wants one of these. I'm torn between being totally appalled and wishing it was more affordable ($6400.00).

That Says it All

Nojo?

I'm ashamed to admit that I seem to have misplaced my Mojo. I haven't written anything of consequence in a couple of years. I've finally gotten comfortable enough to call myself a writer and now I can't seem to do it. I am in the midst of trying to force myself to write (for the umpteenth time!). It ain't workin'.

I have a novel planned out in my head and it's filled with people I like. Why aren't they talking to me? Why aren't they pushing me to tell the story? I depend on them. I need them.

Is it possible that they need me? Do I have to reach inside of my mind and pull something out? That's not the way it's worked to this point. The characters tell me what to write, not the other way around. Maybe now that I've hit middle age, I have to do things backwards.

Okay.

Reach inside. Reach inside. Reach inside.

Tanya at 10:45pm on a Tuesday

So, I went to a video store last night. Sounds like a lie. Who the hell goes to video stores anymore? Well, I did it for old times' sake. I used to go there all the time, then...Netflix got me. I felt bad about not going and supporting the small business guy. I went, is what I'm trying to say. For some reason, I spent a long time there and somehow got involved in a conversation with the video store guy about how the American and European economies are faltering and the Chinese economy is prospering. What the hell? Anyway, the door opens and a lovely young woman walks in and hands the video guy her driver's license. He looks at it and asks her what she wants. She takes it back, staggers backwards, knocks over a stack of videos, burps, then staggers out the door onto the sidewalk. The video guy and I look questioningly at one another.

Damnit, I'm a father! I had to go out and care for this child. Two young men (in their mid 20's) were kinda corraling her. They were also kinda laughing at the drunk chick in the terribly short skirt and low cut top that was barely covering her upper torso. This is so how bad things happen. Tomorrow's headline - "...And She Was Sold As A Sex Slave In..." She lilted to the left, fell to the sidewalk, and rolled toward the street - busy street for a Tuesday night! I grabbed her and sat her on the curb. The two guys got a bit more serious. They told me that she had just been kicked out of a cab. There was vomit on her arm and her eyes were completely vacant. I asked her for her cell phone, which she couldn't produce. Great.

I asked her for her phone number. She gave me an area code that I'd never heard of, followed by not enough numbers to be a phone number. I asked for her address and she gave me the same not quite enough numbers. She handed me her driver's license, which had a Berkeley, CA address. I was born in Berkeley. It's about 400 miles away. At least I got her name. Let's call her Tanya. I had one of the guys go through her purse to find a phone. He practically dumped it out but no phone appeared. Again...great.

I didn't want to call the police but I knew the time had come. I stood out in the street, looking for a cop car. We were only three blocks from a police station but not police were in the vicinity. Great. I took out my phone to call them, when what did my eyes behold? Tanya pulled a phone out from God-knows-where. I asked her for it and she dropped it on the curb. I took it and called the last number that she called. It was her mom. Great!

I'm now talking to a woman who's beside herself with worry. She's in Berkeley, of course. She told me Tanya's address and asked me to take her home. Nope. I assured her that I would get her daughter home safely but I wasn't gonna put a 22 year old, insufficiently dressed, dead drunk girl in my car and take her anywhere. I called the next number on her phone and got her roommate. I gave her our location and began the "10 minute" wait for pick-up. Tanya threw up about nine gallons of mystery.

Tanya now finds her second wind and wants to go a-walkin'. And a-talkin'. I had to physically restrain her because her shoes were pointed toward the street. Sweet little drunkie poo didn't care for being cared for. Now, the racial epithets start getting hurled. "Take your hands off me, you f-ing"...well, you know. That lasted about eight loooong minutes. To the ignorant passerby, this didn't look kosher. The really awful thing about it was, maybe 15 people passed by and no one said a word. I was a man holding a scantily clad young woman while she screamed "let me go!" What a world.

20 minutes later, friends show up and whisk young Tanya away. I made sure to tell them to call her mom and give that poor woman some peace. I shake hands with the two guys. I hope for the teachable moment for them and her. Maybe they can all save someone else some day and pay it forward. Teachable moment, pay it forward - two new age cliches in one paragraph, yah!

Lovely party, thanks for coming!

The Boy

My son, Cole, is the tall kid with the basketball.

Horse Shit!

You also need trust - money - honesty - security - commonality - commitment - and an enormous amount of patience. I'm sure I've forgotten several details necessary for love to occur.

The devil is in the details.

First Day of School

Today (8-29-11) is my son's first day of school. How the years pass. Seems like only yesterday that he was sitting on my lap watching "Sesame Street." Guess it really wasn't yesterday. At some point, everything good that happened in your life seems like yesterday. The bad stuff gets buried away and either never happened or happened a long long time ago. This short video seems like a long long long time ago. Guess it was. We were in the kitchen and he was reciting the tongue twisters, "She sells sea shells by the sea shore" and "One smart fellow, he felt smart". Try 'em yourself.

Today is his first day in college. I believe that I am an old man now. My youngest child is in college.

Allergilove

So...

you are in the prime of your life. You are healthy, strong, and beautiful. You meet the love of your life. You have everything in common. You feel pure, unadulterated love in every fiber of your being.

Every time you touch/kiss/make love to your soulmate, you break out in hives or bouts of sneezing or difficulty breathing or cramps or vomiting. There is no medication for your condition. What do you do?

How Was This Achieved?

This was taken around 1930. Buster Keaton was genius but how did he pull this off?

Did You Know About This?

I've been here on Earth my whole life and I've tried to keep my eyes open most of the time but I don't remember this happening. I mean, I'm sure it did happen because there's a photo of it but...how did I miss it?

What the Hell is it With Me and Old Men?

Last week, I was in a funk. A funk that had already lasted more than a week. Sullen, quiet, stupid. That didn't stop me from shopping for crap that I don't need though.

I'm standing in a relatively long line at the 99¢ Store. For those of you who may not know what that is, it's a large store filled with essentials and unnecessary crap, all at a grand total of 99¢ per item. It's also filled with people that you probably wouldn't talk to at any other time in your life. A store that you leave feeling like you've gotten some good deals but you go right home and take a shower because of where you had to go to get said deals. Anyway, 200 year old man standing in front of me with a handful of odd things. Milk, urinal cake, rat traps, cookies, etc. You know, the norm. Two people from the register, he turns to me and in a very loud voice says,

"Two Amish women were picking potatoes one autumn day. The first Amish woman had two potatoes in her hands. She looked at the other woman and said, "these potatoes remind me of my husbands testicles", and the other woman said "are his testicles that big?" "No," she commented, "they're that dirty."

The store gets kinda quiet. I raised my eyebrows a bit. This guy told me another 20 extremely filthy jokes in rapid succession. No pause, no wait for the laugh, rapid fire dirty jokes. The place was like a tomb. Women covering their children's ears, cashiers mouths open wide, teenagers stifling giggles. Everyone looking at me like I was making this guy do this.

Finally, it was his turn at the register. He continued rattling off the raunchiest stuff ever while they rang him up. His stuff came up to a bit over $8. I told the cashier that his bill was on me.

How could I not? How much should it cost to be uplifted? I think around $8.