- - - - - - - - -

I unplugged my negative ion generator.  It now, after being given the proper and just warning, seems irresponsible for me to have been generating an indeterminate sized mystery cloud of negative ions. I have reason to believe that my negative ions may have been causing interference for the sophisticated electronics in this fine country's missile defense and/or citizen surveillance system. I am not at liberty to discuss the details of why i have reason to believe that, but suffice it to say that I now have to use cliches like, "suffice it to say," or, I am told that domestic threats risk:

The Congress shall have Power to declare the Punishment of Treason, but no Attainder of Treason shall work Corruption of Blood, or Forfeiture except during the Life of the Person attainted.
Article III, Section 3, Clause 2

Crap, I don't know exactly what that means, but I just thought they'd just send me to Sweden or something.  This sounds worse.
IT'S FREAKIN' UNPLUGGED, America. Relax.

yes, i did

I was thinking that now is the time for a career change.  But not just for the change, but to follow a new path that would be both fun and interesting.  Die-cast molding original art came to mind, or maybe museum curator, or fashion design, or perhaps optometry.
I made a pretty awesome snowman last year.  When I tackled the snowman project, I had very limited previous building-with-snow experience, and no professional apprenticeship, training, or college, in the snow arts.  So, you can see, I have good reason, by experience, to not be intimidated by my apparent limitations in areas such as fashion design, museum curating, die-cast molding, and optometry.  Once before, on a snowy winter's day, when the temperature ranged between 30 and 32 degrees Fahrenheit, I overcame limitations, and I built a snowman. 
Darn it, yes, I built a snowman.

no, i won't be going to the prom

I'd like to be called (meant as a compliment) "a tall drink of water" by someone. That would make me feel like a cowboy.  A cool cowboy.  That would remind me of the Stetson cowboy hat I bought years ago when we went on vacation out West. And I would think about getting it out of the basement, and maybe even about wearing it; because it is cool and I would have been an awesome cowboy.  But I won't.  Because even though the hat is cool, really it would look stupid on me. 
You know, if you can't be the cowboy, don't wear the hat.
You may as well not even call me "a tall drink of water".
Sorry I let you down.
Sorry for always apologizing.
I'll be over here, if you need me.

two legs and a sneeze

  Before I knew I actually had the flu, I was having episodic moments, in my brain, of feeling other-worldly; there was a pleasant "lightness" I was not accustomed to.  I knew it was possible that I was getting sick, but I was more hopeful that it was part of a transition into a more permanently accessible state of hyper-awareness. I was going to be able to see - no, not just see - I going to be able to see and discern my surroundings with untethered clarity and understanding.  Imagine my snot and fever filled disappointment when I discovered, hours later, the bitter truth that has haunted humanity for millennia; I am human, and a virus is changing the way I feel, and it is not better, or clear, and I don't understand it. 
  Oh well, maybe tomorrow.

good morning, a good morning

the enlightenment of logic is art,
the enlightenment of art is a brand new beauty.

good night

I met a shaman from somewhere in South America.  He, through an interpreter, explained the role of water in, and ability of water to, trap bad mojo/evil.  
This has given me pause for reflection many times since I heard this.  I think it is unlikely that water is any better at trapping evil than is the air, the earth, or grandpa.  
While grandpa was living with us, the only respite we ever got, from the evil trapped in grandpa, was accomplished by draping a large opaque blanket over his cage.

pick up your employee handbook in the HR office.

A co-worker decided to enlighten me with his opinion that I draw odd conclusions.  From that, I deduced that he is a moron.  An odd symbiosis.

no syrup please

Life is full of changes, almost by definition, but in order to try facing them more effectively, I've recently taken to thinking of them as transitions.  Same thing, different terminology.  I was going to attempt inserting a humorous simile right here for literary entertainment reasons, but I am flat.  Like a pancake, but not tasty, and not really lacking the height dimension either.  So, not so much like a pancake, not so much like anything other than a depressed guy.  Maybe a sad pancake.  Yeah, kinda like a sad pancake. I am like a sad pancake.

don't tell me

  Lindsey was a little bit cooler than the most of the fellows in middle school band class. He played guitar and his older brothers talked to him about rock bands that my parents would not approve of.  I was never in school band. I once walked by the room where they practiced.  It was bright in there, and there were elevated places to stand, and I thought to myself, band is stupid.
  I like music, but as a young man, I couldn't tell music theory from rumor. Musical notes were mysteries for angels and devils to comprehend. So, being neither angel nor devil, frustration and inadequacy drove my jealousy into hatred; viola, band was stupid...but music was still intimidating.
  Lindsey was with a friend or two (of his) when he stopped me by the lunchroom vending machines.
"jimmy," he uttered, "do you know about sex alone in the shower?"
  Not answering aloud, I looked back at Lindsey with my most bravely mustered unspoken - huh?
He continued unfazed, "You DO know what to do in the shower with a spoon and a stopwatch, don't you?" he paused for that long painful moment of my desperate searching for the correct response before he finished the question with a disappointed, "no?"
  I finally answered with wavering hesitation, "No." I was afraid I SHOULD know what sex thing to do in the shower with a spoon and a stopwatch, but I was more afraid to try to fake an answer through a haze of sweat, awkwardness, and bafflement.
In that next moment, he decided to let me off the hook.  "Oh, I see your dad hasn't had that talk with you yet.  Hmmm, ask your dad, he'll know."  Lindsey gave an upward nod, and a smile, as he and his friends walked away.  "Your dad will explain it to you."
  I didn't ask my dad.  I never asked my dad, and Dad, if you're reading this, pretend you didn't.
  I still hate the school band, and Lindsey, if you're reading this, you owe me for a spoon (reintroducing it to the kitchen was morally out of the question), a stopwatch (water damage), and a lot of time spent that I must now consider mostly unproductive (self-explanatory).

yes, I mean right now

I will enjoy the uniqueness of today, the comfort of yesterday, and the promise of tomorrow, all in the moment that can only be now.

wag

I touched my dog's jaw.

I held it, feeling the softness and warmth, understanding that someday she will die.

She was concerned that I would stop holding her jaw.

I stopped.

She is waiting.

I am waiting.

We should go for a walk.

made in usa

i've often thought of myself as a pair of socks. 
not in terms of an anology. 
simply. socks.

heard it from a friend

 

I told a joke.  They all laughed.  It was about them.

hold on

there is no where safe.
there is my mind.
there is no where safe.
i smile in a universal gesture.
my body is a beautiful reminder of all that matters.
everything i perceive is a beautiful reminder of all that matters.
you and i matter in this unsafe anywhere.
hold on and smile in a universal gesture.

Garage Door Metaphor

I don't like to leave my garage door open.
I do like to wear loose fitting shorts.
Both for the same reason.