diary uh

the most painfully, excruciatingly boring type of blog, to me, is a personal diary, and as fascinating as jimmy may be...his diary is no exception; however, today I give you an entry, maybe to prove my point, maybe to illicit some sympathy, maybe because it is true..."dear jimmy's diary, as much as i want to write in my blog, three days on the toilet has taken its toll, my butt hurts, my stomach is cramped, my normally high-octane zest for life, is for shit, literally, and see that was way too easy, i can't write, i can only poop, and even that isn't coming out right...i pray to a god whom i hope has more important concerns than the consistency of my stool, and yet i ask for relief, Dear God (capital G...see, i mean it oh Lord), anyway...Dear God, your ignoring me probably goes back to the "devil chip" blog, or "for Mom", or the "Grandpa" entry, or maybe the "wheelies for Jesus" thing, come on it was a joke..oh god...i'm screwed, i may as well have my address changed to this toilet seat."

the perfect life

a perfect day
should be today
clouds and sun
may affect what i do
but neither what i am
nor what i will be
this will be my only opportunity to make today perfect
until tomorrow
when it starts all over again
the nightmarish reality
of trying to live up to motivational cliches

jacket

I like this photo of someone wearing a heart print jacket in the sunshine. It is possible that a jacket can mean more when you know who is in it. If you want to see this photo the way i do, please imagine someone you care for and love in this jacket.

sometimes i burn sticks in my fire pit, and think about stuff

i'm putting off rehab until a time when i don't need the drugs. makes sense, right?

double-jointed

i know a guy who is "double-jointed" - he demonstrates his ability to bend his arms at odd angles for everybody, it is creepy. if i were double-jointed, i would keep it a secret. no one would ever know it unless you and i were trapped in a cage or straight-jackets being lowered into a vat of acid and the only way out was for me to bend my arms "funny" to reach and disable the locking mechanism thereby enabling us to escape from our perilous situation, and even then, i'm not sure i would do it. and that should be all you need to know about me.

waddle

I was by a pond watching a duck walking toward me and i realized that the word "waddle" is kind of a visual onomatopoeia for how a duck walks. I enjoyed watching the duck "waddle" and was envious of how ducks have a word that so accurately describes their movement, and humans do not. If there were to be as visually descriptive a word for human "walking" it would have to somehow visually mean "look at this thing transporting its horridness from one location to another."

traffic

This is a fairly mundane photo from my car window on the drive into work this morning. Most of the traffic is heading East toward Chicago for the morning rush. It is amazing to me that so many people have something to do for someone else (or else I assume we would stay home or drive when it is less crowded). I also wonder if these people could possibly think this is where they want to be, it is all so depressing if they are like me. I don't know which would make me happier: if i knew my fellow commuters were aware enough to be miserable, or if I am happier believing many of them find comfort, security, fulfillment and possibly even happiness in a "job." I am sure only that it feels very unnatural to me, this creation of ours.

me and jimmy, jimmy and me, jimmy and i

when i close one eye, it feels good. when i close both eyes, it feels better. i may just be tired, but closing both eyes cradles me with love. i'm closing my eyes now.

why conflict is human, unavoidable, and usually doesn't end until somebody gets hurt

"bay gull" or "bag ul"? which way do you pronounce the chewy bready breakfast roll spelled b-a-g-e-l? Do you say it like a clean white bird soaring above a hidden bay on a tropical beach, or like a dirty, tattered paper sack full of "uls"? Here is the test. If you are civilized and desire a world filled with grace, you have chosen "bay gull." If you were raised by prairie dogs, you probably say "bag ul." Not that jimmy wants to use this blog as a bully-pulpit, no way, jimmy just observes and reports, kind of like joe mccarthy did. tail-gunner jimmy. did i mention how much i love mrs. jimmy? because i do. really. a lot. but really, bag ul?

driveway worm

Driveway Worm, you died alone.
Driveway Worm, you look like an "R."
Driveway Worm, looks like you skipped dinner.
Driveway Worm, you are so dead, you don't even stink.
Driveway Worm, what were you thinking, where were you going?
So senseless. It seems.
Why, Driveway Worm, why?
Driveway Worm.
Beautiful Driveway Worm.

wheelies for Jesus

Back to work and back to life. The trucker whose smile and thumbs-up attitude, through some pretty dire circumstances, captivated and inspired a nation - is back today moving pink sand in the fairy tale land he calls home. He took a little time out to address the faithful: "I want to thank everyone who helped get me out and those who prayed for me. I had a lot of time to think lately. I've learned a lot about people - both good and bad; and i've learned a lot about dogs - mostly bad - whiz on me? NO, whiz on you! - anyway, i'm getting some counseling help with that at a church that took me in after the rescue. They (at the church) have been great to me and they claim to be loosely and inaccurately affiliated with what they think might be actual Christian beliefs. I'm cool with it, you know, the honesty and stupidity of being inaccurately affiliated. In fact, one day I hope to be Saintificated, but for now, my earth spirit advisor just tells me when I see a sweet little pooch headed my way, and he is about to salute me with his back leg... I just turn the other cheek, and keep on keeping on...by doing 'wheelies for Jesus!' "
amen and apeople, my righteous friends - jimmy goes to the same church - when the world salutes you with its hind leg - "wheelies for Jesus!"

orbit

i would like to use the metaphor of being in orbit to describe my life, and as swell as it sounds, it just doesn't fit. flying above it all, soaring through an effortless ellipse, floating on the rounded corners of a supportive atmosphere. i'd be up there, rising and setting, arcing across the highest point in the sky, and ultimately resting with the only intrinsic truth of orbit for a human - loneliness. So, for now, i just look up.

moving trains

i've hopped aboard a moving freight train, and before you give it a try, i warn you of two things. The bed of the railcar is higher off the ground than you probably imagine and so, you can't jump on a moving train without hanging off the edge of it, which is uncomfortable and a little unnerving, and the next problem is that once you squirm your way onto the bed of the railcar - the train seems to be going a lot faster now that you need to jump off. tuck and roll jimmy.

nothing, thank you.

i know someone who believes your fortune can be foretold by someone skilled in the art of tea leaf reading. You drink tea infused with leaves loose in the cup, and when finished, the leaves arrange, apparently with divine fatalist intervention, into a pattern which will be synonymous with your future. i don't know why this same logic would not apply to coffee grounds - so here you go - today's photo, no coffee ground reading training necessary - this is a seated monkey drinking soup and holding the bowl in a position of gratitude and offering. What does it mean to me? The monkey was thirsty and is grateful. What does that mean to me? The monkey was thirsty and is grateful. What more do i need to know? nothing, thank you.

damaged goods

before i had my own children, i was engaged in some playful rough-housing with my friend's six year old son and i dropped him on his head. he was okay, never lost consciousness, no blood; but that was about ten years ago and i am just starting to recognize how symbolic that event was. he developed and now suffers from an exaggerated squint. how oddly fated that i squint to lessen the painful perception i have of the world, and he squints because i dropped him on his head. i don't know all the possible reasons that life damages people. but i know one. slippery bastard.

if you knew

it's sad they do not understand how despised they are, although really, deep down, in that secret place, we all know the truth about ourselves, don't we? probably not. because if we did, we would change, wouldn't we? probably not. because truth, well, truth, probably not.

bud

Pretty soon this bud is going to become shagbark hickory leaves, big and green - then brown, shriveled and dead on the ground. The circle of life is more like a short straight line for a hickory leaf.

he's okay!

this morning we are all one step closer to breathing a sigh of relief, as local rescue efforts and worldwide prayer have our little trucker, happy, rested, in high spirits, and on the brink of rescue. "We're one warm day from getting this hero out of the ice," one rescuer was touting triumphantly.
However, the little trucker rescue is not without controversy. "They fail to mention that the ice was melted two days ago and they forgot to get him out," a local shopkeeper - who agreed to comment only under the protection of anonymity - said with disgust.
Well, one thing is for sure - even if the townsfolk are a little forgetful, this guy has heart of gold and a smile like springtime.

the devil chip and the true shame of humanity

there are those of you out there who doubted the existence of the "devil chip." (reference jimmywrites post this past Sunday) Going so far as to taunt and jeer me, and while i admit a perverse, yet natural, pleasure in being jeered (easy with the spurs cowboy) - enough, was enough. Well, naysayer, you see it now in the un-doctored and un-photoshopped photo above. And, as you plan your debaucherous weekend, remember, beelzebub is everywhere. Today is Friday the 13th and the nacho chip from HELL has been revealed, the devil's double, as it has been prophesized - run, even though it will do you no good, you coward, you run from yourself. And, of course, if by some chance you do not have a debaucherous weekend planned, how about giving jimmy a call? i could use some jeering-up...get it. it is a real shame nobody reads this shit.

why i am destined to be miserable and shorter

sometimes when i sit on the toilet - and, i believe it only happens on the toilet because the seat is lower than any other seat in my house - anyway, sometimes when i sit on the toilet - i can feel my vertebrae readjusting. Some people may take that moment to enjoy, with naive optimism, a perceived relief in the compression of disc and bone in the spinal column. They may also enjoy a little quiet "this is all about me and my body and the special things it can accomplish" time in the poop room. Yes, some people may enjoy that; but i spend that moment, and those moments that follow, mortified by the implications of a collapsing spine. When i entered my teen years, that was how i imagined high school would end for me - crescent-shaped and wiggling on the tile floor next to my locker. As I got older, I just kind of assumed that the involuntary collapse of my spine was one bullet I had managed to dodge. Now in hindsight, i feel it was inevitable.

trees and moon

This is a photo of out-of-focus tree branches silhouetted by an overexposed rising moon. Technically it is ghastly, and artistically it is cliched - but, in a not-so surprising move intended to ease my post-postuniversity psuedo-psuedointellectual malaise - I have surrendered to the cliche and now say, "this i like, and that is enough, a cliche within a cliche, the new cliche."

the dirt road to heaven

"the road to hell is paved with good intentions," was said by some idiot, and that led some other idiot to comment that, "hell is filled with nice guys who had good intentions." But i know that there is no nice guy with good intentions - you may as well be looking for a microscopic Yeti. NO such guy exists, and that is probably for the best; because apparently, there really is no good place to put him anyway.

testing

as i look around and survey the state of the world, i come to one inescapeable conclusion - the world needs more jimmy. audio jimmy. i need a recording studio. testing, one, two, three, testing. "look, it doesn't take a fabled amount of intelligence to discern that conventional wisdom on the subject of public education is misguided - unless your goals are those of a system, rather than those of a student." there, that is something i have wanted to say out loud for some time. testing, one, two, three, testing.

decisions and fate

Truth is, today's photo was going to be of a nacho chip shaped just like beelzebub's profile. but, it is just too scary. Mrs. jimmy found the chip last night and started staring a lot, didn't sleep last night, and generally hasn't been the same since. this photo i have inserted, of blue and red checked paper, is meant to be a visually pleasant and colorful diversion. my quick visual scan of it does not reveal any known hidden, frightening or subliminal imagery. it is the wrapping paper used to cover and ship the designer soaps referenced in jimmywrites very first blog post. these soaps were going to fill a fluffy pink emptiness in my aimless life. well, the wrappers are pretty. I better go make sure mrs. jimmy hasn't wandered off.

puddle

there is a progressive building of knowledge through experience; so naturally, somewhere along the process of becoming an adult, i stopped seeing the way puddles reflect the world and me. i believe i am ready to start looking again.

friends, potatoes, and a lot of quotation marks

Potato farmer? hmmm, i never would have considered it back in the days when the words "option" and "choice" were used more optimistically after the word "career." It (potato farming) was suggested during a conversation with friends, well if they read this, they may be surprised by that word choice, because if stated with semantic correctness, it would be more like - i was eavesdropping on some people, who appeared to be friends with each other, and they were having a conversation about growing potatoes; nutrition per pound, yield per acre, crop rotation, and it all sounded very positive, especially in these unsure times. I was intrigued; plus, i have recently become aware of a parcel of "farming" land made available through the clearing of marijuana by federal agents last fall. (a minute or so of deep thought, calculation, and life-course contemplation later) Gosh darn it, i'm gonna do it! I can see a best-selling biography in my future now - From Weed to Spuds, How jimmywrites Saved America! And, by the way, between us, going forward, let's just consider this MY idea. Those people who MAY have been talking about something similar at an adjacent table and got up and walked away when they "thought" i was "listening" to their "conversation" were jerks anyway. and i won't need friends when the starchy gold starts bubbling up from the rich forest preserve soil. I have to just forget those guys, my good ideas always get derailed and confused by crap like "friends." jerks. I need some potato seeds.

for mom

if i had a real lot of money, i would build a lighthouse for my mom (she likes some of them). i think she'd say, "thank you, but i really have no use for a lighthouse of my own and could've used the money for food." and then after i got over the hurt and confusion, i would realize that i had actually built the lighthouse for me to feel better about my relationship with my mom, not because it was something she wanted...so, i'd try to make the best of a bad situation and turn it into a lovely, quaint, bed and breakfast only to surely realize, in short order, that a B & B is more work than money, and then in an effort to not bankrupt myself with the taxes, upkeep, and other expenses, i would end up painting and decorating the lighthouse exterior to look like a huge phallus and turn it into a porno shop. mom won't be proud, but she has only herself to blame.

let's get physical

Olivia Newton John - WOW! In the 1980's I was fortunate enough to work with some of the biggest stars in the music industry. Periodically i will publish photos from my personal collection of backstage, or what I like to call - "pages from my family album," photos. I recall at the time, Olivia was typically late to rehearsals for the "Let's Get Physical" video shoot, and when she did arrive, all attitude. Still, looking at it now, 30 years later, the style holds up...sexy as hell.

timeless shipwreck parable

if you were shipwrecked on a cookie island, your initial reaction would be, "wow, what a fantastic bit of good fortune." you would be ignoring , at least initially, how unlucky you were to be in a shipwreck at all, but heck, landing on a huge cookie is not the worst way for that to play out. you would eat the cookie when you first "beached" because there is plenty of cookie, it tastes good, you are hungry, and you had a bit of recent bum luck, so hey, why not? why shouldn't you? but after awhile, you would eat the cookie, to not just stave off hunger, but to stay alive. and the island would grow smaller as you ate more and more of it, until one day all that would remain of cookie island would be better described as, cookie pedestal, and if you eat any more, the island will be too small to support you, and you would certainly drown; but if you don't eat it, you certainly starve. it all sounded so rosy to begin with, again, not counting the shipwreck itself.

did you see that guy's head?

today i saw a man on the sidewalk with a head shaped like a bullet. i am certain his nickname is "bullethead". he never looked at me, which is good, because if he had, i probably would have averted my eyes anyway, because you probably don't want to answer the "wadda you lookin' at?" question from a guy named bullethead. and just in the next moment, i could imagine someone else's spouse stating rhetorically to their own husband, "you can have your little party as long as you don't invite that creepy guy with the wide neck and pointy head" and just like that, bullethead spends another evening alone, again. no mrs. bullethead to discuss life's injustices. no friends, no family. i didn't mention it at the opening of this story, but he was walking a dog- lil' bullet, i'm guessing. i'll bet they make each other smile. "bullethead" - lonely superhero for lil' bullet. very few superheros aren't lonely, because everything super has a price.

ice road truckers - the final season

Global Warming takes its toll on the "ice road" for our heros, but it turns out that Sudden Uncontrollable Irritable Global Cooling Syndrome is what makes this season, their last. I can't seem to leave this tub of frozen toys alone, it's beautiful.
Update on our little buddy from yesterday - still frozen, still upbeat, not peed on.