A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking

I have been mocked, yes mocked!, for things I find genuinely inspired. I find beauty in small things. But I suppose some definitions are in order here first. "Inspired" does not mean "good" any more than "unique" necessarily means "useful". And when I say "small things", I mean small of consequence and not necessarily small of size.

For instance, I am totally in awe of the lyrics in the song LUMP, by Presidents of the USA. I love all POUSA songs because they refer to worms and fuzzy spiders and dune buggys for toads and being old and naked and.... well, not your normal pop tune imagery. So I was hooked as soon as I heard the lines:
Lump was limp and lonely and needed a shove
Lump slipped on a kiss and tumbled into love
She spent her twenties between the sheets
Life limped along at subsonic speeds

I took the picture of the rubber minnows at the right while perusing the $1 store at the flea market. Still kicking myself now for not buying the fishmonger. I mean, it's bionic!

It's always one thing or another at my age. My friend's wife just left him. No animosity. Just a casual mention that she figured she might as well be moving along. Well, at least there's no drama. And he still has his job. My other friend still has his wife, but his job moved on. Yet another friend is traveling the world with his wife (on vacation from his job - so he's OK on both those accounts) because he figures his back could go out any day now and he wants to travel while he can because he thinks it'll be harder to travel when he can't. Which actually seems to make sense. I hope his back never goes out because he brings me Cuban cigars back. Note to Feds: Ummm...no, he doesn't. Just kidding. Heh heh heh.

So, there is a wise girl out there, who may or may not still drop by this blogstop along the slow lane on the information parkway. She's making now like what I was always accused of being before... the disappearing kind. And to be completely "jiggy wit' it", she may or may not be all that wise. That was a self-inflicted moniker, kinda like San Diego just up and proclaiming themselves "America's Finest City". Still, I was pondering on her and her tribulations and triumphs when the god of cold Nevada sunshine reached down and thumped me right betwixt the eyes. And then there appeared, glowing in bright Department of Transportation green, a sign. Literally. And I knew all was well. It was crystal and clear like... like... like something crystal and clear. If there were no joy to be had, then why would there be two lanes headed there? Yeah. There you have it.
(Yeah Waaaaah! You have to biggerize this to understand.)

Is Lump fast asleep or rocking out with the band?, out
Ramblin' Ed

Great people talk about ideas, average people talk about things, and small people talk about wine

Out west again. Heading west from Reno to find Truckee, CA. I had a friend on the USS Antietam that was from Truckee and I had always wanted to see it. I figured with it only 30 min. away, this was as good a chance as I was ever likely to see. Anyway, that really good enlisted friend of mine is now a really good O-5. Some of you know just how impressive a journey through the ranks that represents.

"Downtown" Truckee, CA. Of course, there could have been a more modern downtown if I had turned the other direction off I-80, but I will just pretend that this was it.

Cool looking gas station in Truckee. Of course, it was not a gas station. It was a ski clothing store.

Northern California traffic is less hectic than Southern California traffic. I am not complaining to say that most of the trip was spent in this start and not stop traffic.

OK, am I the only one who sees an AT&T commercial in this shot?

What a beautiful view. I am so glad that several folks suggested this drive. Enough folks said to do it that I figured that there must be something to it.

This does answer the question: Does a bear poop in the woods? Yes, but he poops pine cones. Or else....could this be the bad dude that ate Ewell Gibbons.

Dusk on the lake.

Getting dark now. While the scenery is still beautiful, my little camera is not the right equipment for properly capturing it. And since I went home over the Mt. Rosa Highway, complete with a view looking down over the far off lights of Reno twinkling and filling the valley, that is a shame. Still, this is a decent shot across Lake Tahoe.

Hmmmm... two cars in the garage. That can only mean that I'M HOME!

So, I was watching Glee. It is something I do and do not apologize for. Heck, I like dancing. I like singing. And I like cheerleaders. Hence, yes hence, I thoroughly enjoy this show that has plenty of all three. In this week's featured mash up (where they mix two songs together) they did not mash up songs, but rather mashed up choirs. It started off with a group of deaf singers singing John Lennon's "Imagine" with just a piano for accompaniment. Not to be crude, but you know that deaf people sound a little off when thy speak. Or sing. Then, one by one, the other choir joined them. It was beautiful, fully bringing to bear the spirit of inclusion that John wrote into the song. I was touched.

I watched the plane load up in Phoenix. There was a large-ish soccer mom and her husband, carrying a 4 or 5 year old on his back. The plane was loading slow, which is in no way remarkable. Nor is it unexpected. Large-ish mom kept hollering, "Let's go...c'mon, let's move!"Seriously. Everyone else just looked at her as if she were boorish. Her husband, meanwhile, kept hollering (yes, hollering ad I am NOT making this up) that "I can't stand like this forever." You know, as if the 5 year old would not be able to make the arduous journey down the aisle unassisted. All I could think was, "Well, apparently Tampa is down two idiots right now." Makes me proud to know that these Tampons...I mean Tampans, are my peeps. That's all I'm saying

This is just a place holder. There is more to write, but not today. As the philosopher once asked, "If not now, when?" "Sometime later," would have to be my simple reply.

Just because something doesn't do what you planned it to do doesn't mean it's useless.- Thomas A. Edison
If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one? - Abraham Lincoln
A good listener is usually thinking about something else. - Kin Hubbard
The only man who is really free is the one who can turn down an invitation to dinner without giving an excuse. - Jules Renard

Fallacies do not cease to be fallacies because they become fashions, out
Ramblin' Ed

If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you

Since the last time you stopped by:

1. New pump in the well.

2. Moved the fence without employing professionals.

3. Watched most of Season 1 of True Blood

4. Watched the cops arrest a woman who assaulted my wife.

There. You are now all caught up.

Headed for Reno this afternoon. Coulda sent another guy in the office, but I thought a trip to Nevada would be nice. Cost myself the Bucs-Saints game. Dangit Man! When will you learn to do your due diligence before assigning yourself travel??

I ordered one of thos Roku machines to stream Netflix onto my TV. The movies are free with your Netflix subscription, which I have had for years. Sometimes I watch them on my computer, but my computer chair is not 2 hours worth of comfortable. So I figured, why not? The box is small, about the size of a paperback, and it's a one time charge. $80 for the box and I already have the subscription.

Got my hair cut at a place called Lebowski's Hair Salon or something like that. I drive by it every day and had always heard it was an experience. So Friday, since I had the day off, I went there for my haircut. It is themed (loosely, I would say) on the movie The Big Leibowski. Here's the link THE LINK . I was going to try to explain it, especially the hurricane shampoo, but the article does a better job.

The weird thing about the place was getting in. First off, you can give the guy outside the door $10 and he will wash and detail your car while you're inside. I declined. When I got to the door, a guy at a side window stopped me and asked for $25. I could see nothing but a bright red and chrome door. It was all very much reminicent of gaining strip club access. "This is a barber shop, right?" "Yessir. But it's not your father's barber shop." (He repeated that line about 6 times to me, so I guess he's pretty proud of it.) I looked at the door, and him standing there expectantly, like some kind of mellow bouncer. "And when I get in, I will get a haircut?" "Yessir." So I paid and went in. If you follow THIS LINK , watch it for a minute. It's animated and takes a couple of seconds to get going. It's not a complicated site though, in keeping with the Lebowski theme.

The article explains it better, but: I was led first to the bar, where I chose a Budweiser. Then I was given a shoeshine, which made me thankful I had not worn my customary flip flops. No, I didn't think they'd shine my feet. I mean, the shine was part of the price of admission, so I am glad I got it. Then a young lady in flip flops and fishnets let me over for my hurricane shampoo. Then a quick massage (from a chair, not a person) while I waited my turn at the raised barber dias. Then a lady dressed as, I'm not sure but I'm thinking meter maid or something, gave me a MAN-icure and then a decent haircut. Price of admission + tips was around $35. I wasn't sure about tipping, so I tipped everybody just in case. No one ever got disapproving looks for tipping too often. Well, except from their wife.

If you can find something everyone agrees on, it's wrong, out

Ramblin' Ed

A gentleman is a man who can play the accordion but doesn't

Gotta love November and December in Florida. It is finally cool enough to be outside all day and it is still warm enough to be outside all day. So this is when the celebrations and festivals start to really get going.

Me and Brother Dave headed out to Vinoy Park in St. Petersburg for Ribfest. We had us some festival food and watched the pretty girls walk by. Had to watch fairly closely, as they were intermingled in with a whole lot of... well, to be as kind as possile, a whole lot of not pretty. It is a fair bet to say that a lot of trailer parks were emptied out yesterday.

We stayed for Gator Country, which is Molly Hatchett except for they somehow lost the rights to their name Molly Hatchett. Most of it was sounding good, but the boys are really starting show their age. One guitarist had to sit through most of the show and another got winded and had to be replaced. The lead singer lost it on the last song. At first I thought he'd forgotten the words, but they've been singing that song for 35 years, so it seems unlikely. So I think he strained his voice. Anyhoo, the last song was brutal and the applause for it a polite, "Hey, well anyway you tried."

We also stayed for Blue Oyster Cult, who put on a much tighter show. Those guys were still on the top of their game. I was wondering about how they ended up playing at a venue like Ribfest, but then I got to thinking about today, when Big Kenny (of Big and Rich) is playing, and they're still on the radio and touring as headliners. And the Zac Brown Band is there too, and they are about the hottest thing in country music right now that's not named Taylor Swift. Anyway, I'd say the festival was a success with good ribs, good (mostly) music, and temps around 78. We didn't stay for George Thorogood, but from the looks of the T-shirts around, he had a pretty sizeable following. Who'd have thunk it?

We stopped in at the Mellow Mushroom for a late dinner on the way home. I got pizza, Bro Dave got a calzone. And we had a chuckle that te restrooms are labeled as "mellow flushroom".

Real News Report--had me rolling:


Was going to take the wife up to the 35th Annual Homosassa Arts, Crafts, & Seafood Festival today. It's a $2 donation to get in, but I know she would have really enjoyed the fresh seafood. Unfortunately, I am having major problems with my well and have the guy coming out tomorrow to pull it and repair it. Let's hope that works, because all told, I am dropping a little over $2000 for that. It'll have to work actually, because if it doesn't, I'm looking at an additional $5000-$6000 for a new well. And I don't have that kind of money laying around right now.

So, as luck, and the natural orneriness of things, would have it, when I dropped several thousands of dollars to run a new chainlink fence, I a) enclosed the pump inside, making it necessary for me to remove the southern end of the fence and dig up the poles to allow the guy's truck to get into the yard. And b) I ran the eastern side of the fence, the long, long, all the way across the back yard portion of the fence directly over the pump. So it also has to come down. Therefore, c) we are not going to Homosassa, but rather staying here. I am sure the wife would rather have water long term, than shrimp one afternoon, but it is not something she may readily admit.

Instead, we will drive the Mustang to the flea market to mingle with the half of the trailer park dwellers that are not at Ribfest.



The thing I hate about an argument is that it always interrupts a discussion, out
Ramblin' Ed

The food and beer midway. This and the one opposite it framed the main stage.

We opted to sit back just a bit and watch it on the screen. It was a wise choice as up front we could have been crushed by boomers semi-rythmically swaying and blissfully singing along.

Niiiiiiice....

Honesty is a good thing, but it is not profitable to its possessor unless it is kept under control

I could not get the whole robot guy in the picture, so I got his head. Any lower and I suppose all I would have gotten were his, well, nuts. And bolts. Tampa's downtown, in this area of Franklin Street anyway, is pretty dead, but there is quite a bit of art work out on the streets. I believe our Arts District is adjacent by a block or so and that is why.

From where this statue is I can see the old Tampa Theater. I remember a long, long time ago Dad took me there so we could watch a Monty Python film festival. Shoulda took a picture of it, but the link above gives you a 360 degree view of the inside. If you use your mouse, you can control the view. It is gorgeous, like the early twentieth century theaters tended to be. I also saw Dwight Yoakam in L.A. at the Wiltern Theater in Koreatown. Strangely, I cannot find any decent webpages to link to and show it. And it has hosted Dwight, Wilco, The Stones, Moby, and any number of national acts over the years.

This is robot man's son, I think. They were side by side. You can see Dad's arm in barely in frame on the right.
Taking pictures of the "Wall O' Bras" in Ybor City.

The "Wall O' Bras". Too bad I didn't get the whole thing. It was pretty impressive.

I was reading the viewer reviews for the movie I'd just rented off of Netflix. One bonehead in particular was offering his opinion that the director had not made any real effort at character development. And that the story was implausable. Fair enough. I mean, it is a movie about a beautiful female Japanese Samurai who, clad only in a fur bikini, battles zombies. Onechanbara trailer.

OK, it's out there. Yes, I would rent a movie about a beautiful female Japanese Samurai who, clad only in a fur bikini, battles zombies. The real question is: Who wouldn't?? I also rented Machine Girl. Sue me. [Note: Scroll to the bottom for the trailer. There you can see the flying guillotine and drill bra for yourself. And...you're welcome.]

I used to do a lot of 'drive by blogging", meaning I would just keep hitting the NEXT BLOG button up in the left top corner and see what I discovered. It was interesting, like typing two random, mismatched words (think: formica calculator) into google and/or google images to see where it would take you. So a couple of nights ago I did it again, for old time's sake. What a disappointment.

First off, it was about 70% non-English posts that came up. I guess all the English speakers are twittering and facebooking or something. Then about 20% of the time I got Russian porn. The name of the blogs kept changing, but it was the same pictures of the same women over and over, so I know it was broadcast over the blogsphere. You rarely got blindsided by porn on Blogger in the past, so I was a bit surprised. Although I guess I really shouldn't have been. The last 10% were either regular blogs or business advertisement/blogs. All in all, a very disappointing drive by.

I like an escalator because an escalator can never break, it can only become stairs. There would never be an escalator temporarily out of order sign, only an escalator temporarily stairs. Sorry for the convenience.
- Mitch Hedberg

Well flies like to fly 'cuz they don't like to stay
buzzin' in the ears of the chicken all day
chicken understand and he peck out the code
send a subsonic signal through the snot in
the middle of an elephant's long wet cold grey nose, out

Ramblin' Ed

Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.

Shopping in Salem, MA. It was Haloween week in the Witch City. There were a lot of costumes out and about, both on the visitors and performers.

Hmmmmm. This one fits just right......MY PRETTIES!

Suddenly, I realized this was a witches and pirates store. Yo, Ho.

Real lady. I am prone to believe she is on stilts. Or a chair, as she did not move around other than to bend down. She was super cool. Having walked most of the strip with the small ninjas to the right, I kept trying to telepathically tell her that this was the perfect time to crush them like bothersome, squealing bugs with her stick. The message apparently garbled in the cool, fall air into something like "Hey, why don't you take a picture with them?" Dang statues working for tips.

This is not a picture of the wife beneath the city's fall foilage. I will not tell you what it is a picture of, only that if you concentrate you will get a sign. (It will only make sense when biggerized.)

Pretty impressive building for a museum. For some reason, behind us (and out of the picture) is carnival food.

A tavern near Quincy Market all decorated for fall. We were eating in another one, the oldest in the city (or region or country, I can't recall other than it was really old) looking out the window at this. As we left, to state the obvious with certitude, we took this picture.

[cue music -"We Gotta Get Out Of This Place"]

Despite life being a series of consternation, I see glimmers all around me. I take my victories where I can find them, and here are some that come off the top of my slightly misshapen head:

1. Both the dogs and the cats prefer dry food. Of course, the dogs really prefer anything on your plate or in your hand. I am just referring to food served purposefully on the floor.

2. Though the cold water enters the washing machine at a mere trickle, making a wash cycle especially long, I know how to fix it. While my laziness postpones said repair, I do know how to do it.

3. An old towel over the folded fresh laundry in the basket keeps the cat hair off your slacks and shirts and is still quite acceptable to Pepe and/or Yuki. Just kidding. It keeps most of the cat hair off.

4. The newspaper is coming before I leave for work again. Now I can read today's paper at lunch instead of yesterday's.

5. Despite a hectic work schedule and a propensity for sitting outside in the shade, I still manage to keep the DVR queue cleared. Oh sure, there's a couple of Family Guys & Obama's inauguration there, but all the new shows are seen.

6. The spoon, due to it's rather stiff brush guard, can be cast right up onto the lily pads. It can be walked across them, causing enough comotion to pique the interest of the big ones resting below. As it reaches the edge of the pad bank, it will gently drop off into the water, and swim back to you with a beautiful, "injured minnow" action.

7. An old, floating boat seat cushion actually made me use the words "vinyl piranahs". I did not say the words aloud, which I take as another small victory.

Took the wife on a business trip with me, mixing, as it were, business with displeasure. OK, that is not true at all. But such a great line like that needs to get used regardless.We actually had a great time.

I was in Peabody, MA as a student for a change, and not as the instructor. So my hours were reasonable and there were no pre- or post-class requirements. I had taken a room at the Homewood Suites, so it was more like an apartment than a hotel room. And it had a kitchenette. We were right beside a Sonic Drive-In, which we did not give a second thought. But here in Tampa, Sonics are a dime a dozen. I was informed tis one was special. Apparently, they had been getting the commercials for years, but the closest restaurant was in N.Y. state. (Kohl's did that here, too, but it was only 1 year and they had already purchased their sites.) Anyway, below is an excerpt from a local magazine.

After years of amusing and enticing commercials, Sonic has recently opened it’s first drive-in restaurant in Peabody. Since it’s grand opening in late August, wait time has been up to four hours and the traffic has stretched from Route 1 onto the highway. (http://nshoremag.com/blog/)

Revolution is no dinner party, unless your dinner party is full of blood and iron. Mao Tse-Tung

It's a lot like nature. You only have as many animals as the ecosystem can support and you only have as many friends as you can tolerate the bitching of. Randy K. Milholland

Sometimes the facts in my head get bored and decide to take a walk in my mouth. Frequently this is a bad thing. Scott Westerfeld

Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends? Abraham Lincoln

I did the Mash. I did the Monster Mash, out

Ramblin' Ed

------------- Wrote in Rhyme below--------------------

Think About It All 23 & 29 July 2006

It's Saturday evening but the July sun
Just keeps hanging around
There's thunder off in the distance some
But no rain hitting the ground
Dark clouds rolling in from the south
Don't always turn to rain
Just like you swore til death we part
But that didn't mean a thing

So if you're thinking of calling me up
Making my telephone ring
If you're thinking of calling my bluff
Remember about the rain
How it didn't fall
Think about it all

I was a man. You were a woman
And we had things to do
We tossed our dreams all in together
Tried to make 'em true
You weren't willing to share no more
Than you were willing to try
We split up over something stupid
It wasn't a pretty goodbye

If you're thinking of pointing your finger
And putting the blame on me
If you're thinking of making excuses
For all your wicked deeds
Both big and small
Yeah, think about them all

You lit your Lucky from a dying candle
On the table by your chair
Said, "They say these things'll kill you dead
But sometimes I just don't care
Some days the weight's too heavy
Some days are just too tough
Some days the Devil gets me good
Sometimes I'm just fucked up"

I'm sorry, Darlin', that's the way of the world
Things become confused
You finally get a handle on it
And the handle comes unglued
You either walk or crawl
Think about it all

Take a moment, Honey, try and
Pull your thoughts up tight
Kick your shoes off by the door
Got no place to be tonight
I'll pour two fingers bourbon
Hell, I'll pour two fingers more
I'll pour all night, won't be the first time
I've slept on the floor

If it comes up, we'll talk about
Your lying and running around
Back then it used to tear me up
But it's nothing to me now
When the rain don't fall
Think about it all

All these things that happen, happen
I don't try to make much sense
Our lives get told the way they go
Not some future perfect tense
I've got no clue where it's going
This here "story of my life"
If you want to add a chapter, girl
Just pick up your pen and write

Yeah, I used to give a rat's ass
But the rat was not amused
And what we had in commom was
We both kept getting used
Every time you called
Think about it all

It's Saturday evening but the July sun
Just keeps hanging around

Ed
Brandon Blvd.

There is no human problem which could not be solved if people would simply do as I advise

Been a busy couple of weeks. Was going to say rough, but no, not really. There was a lot of "run about. Scream and shout," but that was pretty much the extent of it.

Am headed up to Boston this weekend, for a week. The temps here are projected to be in the mid to upper 70s for a while. It has been in the high 80s and low 90s up til now, so the relief is welcome, but I will believe it when I actually see it.

The Coal Miner's Daughter popped up in a chat this morning and said that it had snowed in Boston. And there I was, all proud of myself for thinking ahead and telling the wife "it will probably be a little cool up there, so pack a light jacket." Well, anyway, forewarned is foreparka packed.

I had to laugh at the wife, for a decidedly unfunny situation. Unfunny for her, anyway. At least a little humorous for me, though I cannot ever say that aloud at home. The story:

(Whrrrrrrrrrr-a-whrrrr-a-whrrrrrrr--the sound of the story fast forwarding to the good part) She had a doctor's appointment that came with the requirement for an enema. The first time I had to explain that to her, which she took with a certian stoic grace, and after she went to the appointment, she was told "we sent you the wrong requirements, so you have to come back to do it again." "Oh," she said, "I did not need to do that then?" "No, the enema requirement was correct. But we should have had you drink 64 oz of water instead of 32." Prior to the second appointment we went to the drug store. We bought allergy medicine and then, as we are prone to do, saw something shiny and got distracted. As we were driving home she pops to attention, a little big eyed, and announces, "Hey! We forgot my enemy!" How could I not laugh?

OK, we don't recount reading that little story next time we meet her, OK? Thanks.

We broke out 2 pieces of plywood and a circular saw. In a little over 4 hours, with a hammer and a suprisingly large number of bent nails later, we had constructed....taa daa...a , um, box. Not really a special box, but a box nonetheless. Hey, manly though we may be, we are not that good with our hands. Therefore we took great pride in our accomplishment. To the point of not even noticing...ok, not even caring....that we had not cut a single edge straight. We feel the gaps add a certian rustic charm to the project.

I plugged my mp3 player that I bought in Taiwan into the USB port of my car. I was thinking to play all of the tunes on it through the car system. I mean, I wear that thing all day a t work and I still don"t think I"ve been through the play list a complete time yet. So I was thinking it would make a great, commercial free soundtrack.

What I should have been thinking was that plugging it into the car's USB would wipe the whole drive, since that's what it did. Took the playlist, the program, the whole shebang right off of it. I messed around and messed around trying to reset the device, but ended up having to go onto the company's website where I lucked into a free download of the firmware Well, technically it was a firmware "upgrade", but I surmised, correctly, it was just going to overwrite with a new program. Which is what I needed. I spent a couple of hours loading 4 gb of music. There is another 2.5 gb to load, but I can do that from the road. So I will.

Dogs are washed, bags are packed. We'll be in New England this time tomorrow. All I have to say about that is: Go Saints! Beat the Giants!

Stupidity is a condition. Ignorance is a choice, out

Ramblin' Ed

------------ 3 August, 1984----Balboa Park----San Diego, CA--------

A Promise Forgotten With Time

I've never had the feeling

Life was anything but real

There's been a couple times I've found it strange

I've been around a little bit

Done some things I won't admit

Sometimes I make my own rules to the game

How can I pass judgement on you?

Girl, I barely even know you

I love your smile, though. That's enough for me

It hurt me so to say goodbye

But ya had to get on with your life

I guess that's just the way its gotta be

Yeah, you'll go one direction, girl

and I'll go one direction

It might be that our paths will cross again

And if it never comes to be

well hell, we've got some memories

Sometimes that's even better anyway

Seems memories grow fonder

as the days apart grow longer

miles, they seperate us like a long, black, dusty wall

them rememberences, like pictures

that we hang up in the kitchen

to remind us someone's out there after all

I don't explain the things I do

Love's a trap for me and you

so often it's a word I seldom use

My heart, much like a spinning wheel

will break sometimes, but always feels

twisted all around when I'm with you

Just say I'll keep your photograph

then let the subject drop like that

I don't feel much like trying to explain

Perhaps I'll disappear a while

perhaps now and again you'll smile

and think about ol' "What's-his-name" again

When you think about me, hope you call me friend

Ed

Balboa Park

Life is a tough proposition and the first hundred years are the hardest

The Saints are 3-0. But every Sunday I get the Tampa Bay Suckaneers game. Regardless of if it is the home team or not, when everybody knows the game is gonna be a lopsided blowout, another same conference team's game should be shown. Ergo, if the Bucs will suck, show the Saints. Problem solved, boredom averted. Elect me King and it will be so.

I have found that putting a spoonful of extra crunchy peanut butter on a marshmallow is quite tasty. I have also found that about 12 is my limit. No, I'm just kidding. There is no limit on genuine goodness.

I would make a pretty good king. I am benevolent, and it would be best for you to think before you say otherwise. And if you elect me king, I will immediately do away with elections, so you won't have the bother of having to re-elect me or anything. My re-election would be like congressional raises, automatic unless I say otherwise. You have better things to worry about, no?

Also, as a king, I could just decree something and it would be so. My minions would see to that. And while the idea of minions can seem at first glance to be problematic, having them to enforce my decrees would certianly free me up for additional deep pondering and wise decreeing. As of this moment, I am not sure how much decreeing and deciding there is to do, but I think it might be considerable.

It is not necessary to fear me. I have no interest in most aspects of your life. Your morality, or lack thereof, is of no concern to me. You can settle up with your maker when the game is over. But unless your morality, or lack thereof, is played out in my yard, annoying me and scaring the chickens, I could really care less.

Alright, it's an abort on the king theme. I was getting pretentious and political. Not so much the part written, though it was going there, but the part I just deleted. No need for all that. Wouldn't be prudent. But still, I am no less in favor of having minions.

Was at the dentist yesterday. He was novocaining me up. All was well. I do not fear dentists. In fact, surprisingly, I find them to be the best shot givers there are. I mean once I learned to just shut my eyes BEFORE looking at how gosh-darned big the needle was that they use. So there I was, relaxed, lying there all blissful and unshaven, and that silly son-of-a-gun hit a nerve. No, he didn't mention my personal hygiene or decidedly spotty record on major life decisions. Rather, ol' gorilla fist actually stuck the needle into a nerve.

But I did not know it at first. Again, I was lying there all blissful and unshaven when BAM!, it felt like I was electrocuted by some Flash Gordon ray gun, starting on the left and racing across the lower half of my face. I did a full body jump, easily 2 inches straight up. The facial electrocution sensation was followwed by a burning, as if everything below my nose had been lit on fire for asking a white girl out. Yowser, that caught me off guard.

Apparently, a spontaneous spasm that jolts you straight out of your reclined dental chair triggers some sort of understatement reaction in the practioners of the teethy arts. "Did I get ya?", Dr. Feelgood inquired. Honestly, it didn't really hurt, something I figured out in retrospect. But it was so fast and unexpected, and had never happened before, that I saw my life literally flash before me, reminding me that I've got some work to do on that.

What a great name for a town: Grand Detour, Ill. It is where the blacksmith who eventually brought us John Deere lived. But for me, it conjurs up the dude on patches and t-shirts in the '70s, the one with the one long leg who was known for captions saying either "Keep on Trucking" or "Just Passing Thru". And Grand Detour's in Ogle County. How cool is that? "Hey, you! Stop seeing at my bobs!"

OK, let's get us out of here with some random quotes I've been collecting:

I'm not concerned about all hell breaking loose, but that a PART of hell will break loose... it'll be much harder to detect. - George Carlin

Freedom is just Chaos, with better lighting. - Alan Dean Foster

Her virtue was that she said what she thought, her vice that what she thought didn't amount to much. - Peter Ustinov

The two most common elements in the universe are Hydrogen and stupidity. - Harlan Ellison

I used to think that the brain was the most wonderful organ in my body. Then I realized who was telling me this. - Emo Phillips

Man is ready to die for an idea, provided that idea is not quite clear to him. - Paul Eldridge

First things first, but not necessarily in that order, out

Ramblin Ed

The Dutchman

Who commands The Dutchman to his fate?

Never loving. Never dying.

Cursed to always wait

and sail the oceans

Captian over ghosly crew

even as the legend grew around him

Songs are sung and stories told

Rum gets passed around

the tales get taller as the nights go on

"You'd best beware, " the old salts warn,

"he's got no soul. Was never born.

When The Dutchman laughs, ol' Davey Jones

will gladly take your bones."

And we are sailing out tomorrow

in our mighty wooden vessels

with masts as big as trees

and with our sails as large as tents.

And a wild look all about us

that can only be described

as that of boys fast turning into men

Wild ports flowing free with drugs

and whores, and bars, and dives

Home becomes this memory

so hard to keep alive

There's cargo bought. And cargo sold.

There's riches won and lost.

Treasures are so hard to hold

and come at such a cost

Young seamen, listen to me

Lest you never see your home

with the tradewinds at our backs now

seems the Captian yearns to roam

we've been ninety days a'crossing

but the lookout's sighted land

We'll pull into port tomorrow

and I think you understand

There'll be wine and there'll be whiskey

merriment and roguish songs

Soft eyed girls to bring the pleasures

done without so long

There will be candles burned here all night long

good times for one and all

and hell to pay, as groggily

we greet the morning's dawn

Still I wonder,

who commands The Dutchman?

What curses him to circumvent

the oceans endlessly?

They're questions I keep tucked away

in corners of my mind

Hidden there

and yet they bother me

Who commands The Dutchman to his fate?
Never loving. Never dying.
Cursed to always wait
and sail the oceans

Watchman o'er a watery grave

firey eyes, your soul enslaves

Burning like another wreck

upon the raging main

Songs are sung and stories told
Rum gets passed around
the tales get taller as the nights go on
"You'd best beware, " the old salts warn,
"he's got no soul. Was never born.
When The Dutchman laughs, ol' Davey Jones
will gladly take your bones."

At sea (circa 1981, 1982, or 1983)

Ramblin' Ed

If this was easy it wouldn't be so hard

A Taoyaun corner.

She was such a sweetheart. And a lot better looking than me. But I had been out walking all afternoon in the 200% humidity. Yeah, that's why.

I have never liked these dang things. One should not encounter a confusing #2. Seriously, they shouldn't.

Man, the weeks just kind of fly on by, don't they. At least I take some comfort in the knowledge that when we started doing this we were all posting every day. Now it is weekly, bi-weekly, or "whenever". At least a lot of times I've got pictures.

Went and spent my week in Taiwan. I am not usually bored in Asia, but I was. Very. I even went in to the big city three times. I have been to Quingdao, China and to Hong Kong (China) and have had a ball. Repeatedly. Hong Kong is, in fact, one of my favorite destinations. So I figured Taiwan (China) would be much the same. And had I been a 20 year old woman in search of shoes, miniskirts, make-up, or hot tea, I'd have been in heaven. Alas, I was not. The most fun I had there was the adventure surrounding using a combination rail/light rail to get from downtown Taipei back to my hotel in Taoyaun, about 20-25 miles away. It was fun because I got totally confused in the multi-story Taipei Main Station. And I thought Yokohama Station in Japan was an overachiever....

So I'm in a town where I'm having trouble even finding a place to stop in and have a beer, and this is as good a place as any to point out that the weather was very much like September in Florida, which is to say ninety degrees plus and humid, when out of my taxi window I see what appears to be... hooker in a box. Right there on the street. I was like, Hmmmmm?

So after seeing the one girl in a miniskirt, or less, on a stool, in a tiny elevated glass enclosure, then I started seeing them all over. It really made me wonder, based on the fact this was not turning out to be a very fun city, why this would be allowed. So I asked Joseph, a Chinese guy I had been hitting the city with. Turns out that they were Betel Nut Girls. If you look at the link you will find an explanation of Betel Nut Girls and a few photos. Then you will understand my initial confusion.

The economy keeps taking out my peeps. Just had another friend lose his job as the big electrical contractor he works, errrr...worked for just filed for bankruptcy. And we have 20 or so new hires coming through my classes and are spending week after next interviewing for a new trainer in my office. I'd love to be throwing some of this work at my friends, but you gotta have the quals, right?

Going to be busy at work for a few weeks because of the new hires. Then I am headed up to Peabody, MA for a week long school at Analogic, or as I call them, Anal Logic, because it seems like their collective head is, well, you know. I used some of my many, many airline miles and got the wife a first class ticket to go up there with me. I think she will be bored during the day, stuck on the outskirts of Woburn, MA without a car. But I am hoping to have dinner with The Coal Miner's Daughter and her boy Nick (Sorry, but I was thinking of "Mr. Peabody and his boy Sherman") one night, and with my former boss on another. Then I will take her into Boston proper a couple of times and show her around. Will try to talk her into riding the T with me because when you get into some of these places, parking is a bee-yatch!

The day after tomorrow is the third day of the rest of your life, out

Ramblin' Ed

--------------- More Old Stuff (from 1978 this time)--------------

Star Truck (Blindly going where no man has gone before)

Welcome to my spaceship
I'm the Captain (I implied)
Now fasten up your safety belts
the jets have been applied
feel the gravity start shrinking
pretty soon it will be gone
on the S.S. Ellis Dee
(Where we call home)

All computers have been programmed
and their programmers as well
It seems the last immortal robot
guards a gateway into hell
And if we can put his lights out
we can close that gaping hole
and mankind can live forever
if not more

So just close your eyes my passengers
and you will understand
what this journey is about
for I'm a telepathic man
with less effort
than it takes a star to sigh
the S.S. Ellis Dee
cuts through the sky

Captain, does the sky seem strange?
Asked the woman from Biscayne
No, dear, I replied
I think it's just the window pane
makes the sun seem like it's shifting
to the right
exposing then
this disconcerting light

But now silence must be stringently maintained
or we may crash
I must guide us through this vortex field
one that's full of cosmic trash
and a Marxist spy eye
way up in the sky
I know it's there
But I can't tell you why

Just cling on to this enterprise
think of me as Kirk
I have the conn. I'm in command
in my pajama shirt
Mr Spock, my body guard,
survives on Metimucil
and will guide us through this wonderland
with dialated pupils

We'll be docking in the morning
to a doughnut spinning wild
to an orbiting space station
thruster rockets belching fire
we'll refuel and stay til evening
at which time we must take leave
there's a bag, should you have problems,
on the back of every seat

Then we're off into the galaxy
where unknown dangers dwell
to find the last immortal robot
and his gateway into hell
yes, your ticket price will cover
all of this and so much more
as we grapple with this anti-Christ
and slam shut that massive door

If we survive the battle
then a hero welcome's ours
in the streets of New York City
door to door and house to house
for mankind we meet this challenge
not for you, and not for me
but it will all be worth it
when they meet on bended knee
when they turn their eyes towards heaven
And shout out, "Long live Ellis Dee!"

Black Coffee Day

Well I lost my girl to a rainbow messiah
charismatic for sure, but a compulsive liar
yeah, that silver tounged deacon has stole her away
there won't be no sunshine today

I woke up this morning to a sky rolling blue
a thunderclap welcome, and a free shower too
tried to reach a conclusion but my arms were too short
just another bleeding heart

A choir of angels led a ballad that rambled
on that new FM show brought by Proctor & Gamble
released a new single EP for a demo
sped off in a long, black limo

Yeah, I lost my girl to a rainbow messiah
holy roller fanatic with a prayer gun for hire
a bible for strength, a knife quick and subtle
a deaf ear for any rebuttal

I woke up this morning to a black coffee day
to find that my girl had been stolen away
by that rainbow messiah. Oh yes, how it rained
all over my little parade

I left all my love when I left Tallahassee
took a slow train to somewhere all alone in the last seat
since I don't thump the good book, I'll just cut my losses
and leave it bleed slowly up there on a cross

Let it die slowly, nailed up on that cross.

I look to the future because that's where I'm going to spend the rest of my life

It is a time to be. A time to be hopeful. To be angry. To be wishful. To be beat down. A time to be angry or a time to be concillatory. Whatever. It is a time. For me, it is a time to be done with shrillness and demagogery. But, to quote Kimmy, "Babe, that ain't on the menu."

I read this yesterday - To be positive: To be mistaken at the top of one's voice.

I have worked. Hard. I am exhausted. Exhausted in the good way. In the way you pick up what you've done. Hold it in your hand and show it to the world. I am proud of what I put together for the airport in Taipei. Proud of my proposal to train screeners all across Canada. Proud that I had an impossible deadline and met it. Didn't beat it as I had hoped, but like I said, it was an impossible deadline. So meeting it provided the same professional rewards. Now I sit in my pajamas, crowing about it. Kinda crass and unhumble of me.

I was watching "I'm Not There" this morning. It was about Bob Dylan but in the movie he had a different name. And was, at a point, played by a girl. And I felt all trippy and 1960's inside. Which is not an altogether bad way to start the morning. He played with words.

I will be in Taipei for a week. I fly out on September 11th. Third time since 2001 that I have done that. Each time I do, I think about the attacks. Then I buckle in and doze off. That's how I fly. Cinched in and drooling.

Anyway, I will be there for a week. Unless I'm not. It was a certitude, with contacts forged, reservations made, schedules laid out. And then it wasn't. Some form with a government acronym for a name may monkey wrench it. Or might not. That's the way it is. You may call me Gumby.

Mowed the grass yesterday. It's the only time I get left alone. And then only because I can't hear the phone or feel it vibrate. The Snapper mower rides a little rough. I mowed for an hour yesterday and when I finished there were 4 missed calls and 2 new emails. I looked around and ascertained that the world had not ended, so I pretended I did not see them. I reholstered the offending Blackberry and reached for the string trimmer.

Tomorrow I will go fishing. At a good quiet place with a good quiet friend. Sunday and Monday I am taking wife to Jacksonville. We have a friend from Japan who has moved there and we want to see them again. Then, on the way home, will stop by St. Augustine. The wife will like that. Figure to take I-4 & I-95 up there and wander home on the backroads.

Been playing with words.

The truth? You can't hear the truth over your lawnmower, man. Out.

Ramblin' Ed

-------------------------------------------------------------

Unfallen 4 Sept, 2009

You’ve got to leave me out of all the things we’ve done
You took me go then always leave me hanging
We slipped down any path we knew was way too long
Always stopped halfway from the beginning

We wanted once to be what I was always after
But I was never sure that’s what we needed
You were always on the side of glass half full, and laughter
But that’s alright; it stops the heart from bleeding

There’s all the seeds been sown
There lay yours. And mine.
The edges touch, but I don’t see them blending
You’ve got to live your own
You live in your own time
‘Cause we never know just how the past is ending

I got you on the phone from punching numbers random
We talked for minutes, we had much to listen
And random is as random does, and there it lays its pattern
Brushed out in tears unfallen and unglistening

If I could bring to you the things I think are fair
If I could bring you sunshine from the shadows
Then I would be the one you laid your head upon his shoulder
No different from so many other fellows

There’s all the dreams been blown
There lay yours. And mine
The edges overlap. They are unbending
You’ve got to live your own
You live in your own time
‘Cause we never know just how the past is ending

We slipped down any path we knew was way too long
Always stopped halfway from the beginning
You were always on the side of glass half full, and laughter
But that’s alright; it stops the heart from bleeding

Ed
Brandon

I was walking down the street wearing glasses when the prescription ran out

This is what a typical maintenance class of mine looks like. That is my machine, and these guys will work in airports maintaing them. That is the training area of our factory.

Every time I called the Turks into the lab, I would stick my head in the door and shout, "Team Istanbul, you're up." I also gave the middle Murat his nickname, Murat the Elder.

Interesting sign. It was in Covington, KY in a trendy little area right along the river. You were sitting in quaint old pubs, in quaint old buildings looking across the river at the giant, shiny buildings of Cincinnati.

Am I the only one who immediately thinks "gates of hell" when they see this? Satan will see you now, please remove your shoes and and empty your pockets.

I absolutely LOVED the town's water tower. I mean seriously, how can you not?

I just can't help but think that the Commonwealth's officials did not think it through when naming this state park. State park in 20 miles, snickering for a good 12 of them.

Been in Northern Kentucky all week and have thoroughly enjoyed it. First of all, it takes about 2 1/2 minutes to get on some of the prettiest backroads I have cruised in a long time. I hopped on US 127 South here in Florence Y'all and just meandered along, seeing where it might take me. Well, it didn't take me through many towns, but with the windows down and the roads free of traffic, I somehow found myself in Frankfort.

In Frankfort, I discovered I was on The Kentucky Bourbon Trail. I assume it meanders along through several different cities, as I know the distilleries are in numerous different KY towns.But in the 2 or 3 mile stretch I was on, I was able to see the Buffalo Trace Distillery and Four Roses Distillery. Buffalo Trace was a beautiful old building right on the river.

Everybody here has been ready to shoot the breeze and I have had some great, lazy afternoon conversations. Sure keeps life interesting. I was in a place yesterday, and when I walked in, everybody was glued to the large plate glass window, staring out at the road I had just turned in from. A chicken had crossed the road. Then hung out at the bus stop. And was now in a bank parking lot with a man trying to catch it. He finally gave up, sat and watched over the chicken until reinforcements arrived. First a man showed up in a Cadillac, got out, and guarded the chicken from the other side of the parking lot. Then a lady drove up in another expensive car, got out, stomped over to said semi-free range chicken and just snatched it up. She got back in her car with it and drove off.

The boys in the joint sat and talked about the chicken and it's adventure for the rest of the 45 minutes or so that I was there.

I have enjoyed some of my favorite foods. That I had forgotten were some of my favorite foods. I have had fried bologna with applesauce on it and I have had fresh blackberries. Mom used to make me fried bologna when I was a kid. I always liked how it turned into a little meat cup when fried. Then I would fill that cup with applesauce. Mmmmm. Good stuff.

Went to a place called Skyline Chili because it was one of those local flavor things, and if you travel, you should always try as many of the local things as you happen to run across. I had a coney in a steamed bun, covered in chili and piled high (I mean REALLY high) with grated cheese. I had spaghetti, covered in chili and piled high (I mean REALLY high) with grated cheese. I had fries, covered in chili and piled high (I mean REALLY high) with grated cheese. As a firm believer that anything is made better by the addition of cheese, I found myself in the unfamiliar position of actually removing some from my meal. There was that much. I will probably be stopped up for a week, but when I finally do go again, I half expect it to come out covered in chili and piled high (I mean REALLY high) with grated cheese.

Got my suitcase packed. Am headed home directly from class and it is time to go down for breakfast, turn in the rental car, and think about heading in to work.

Remember, an opinion should be the result of thought, not a substitute for it. Out.

Ramblin' Ed

'Tis an ill wind that blows no minds

Happy Birthday, Woodstock. Yay, whirled peas.

Here I sit, and none too happy about it by the way, in Charlotte's Douglas International Airport. Which I remember from a long time ago when it was Douglas Regional Airport. I am waiting for a 9:25 PM flight to Dayton, Ohio, which is actually 75 miles from Cincinnati, where I am really going... and should have arrived at already. Weather...always weather! I am going to be one tired puppy when I get to work tomorrow. A tired puppy who is possibly still wearing his travelling clothes. Arrrgh!

Anyway, I have been busting butt trying to get some training written for a custom install in Taiwan. In fact, I was messing with it in the Tampa Airport for almost 2 hours. I assume it is for Taipei, but that's mostly because I don't know of any other cities there. I could possibly end up in the sticks somewhere, and all the money I have been squirreling away for a hot time in the big city may actually end up no place more special than a noodle shop. We'll see. Anyway, I think around about the 2nd week in September I well be headed over there for 2 weeks. Yee-Haw...back in Asia for a while.

I have been drinking tea today, for some unexplainable reason. Hot tea, no less. Something called Rasberry Spark, which tastes like hot Kool-Ade. It is all full of ginko bilboa and ginsing. Not sure what that means, whether it is supposed to make me healthy or horny. Either, I suppose, would be an improvement on the day. Ginko bilboa baggins.

Watched Clint Eastwood's Gran Torino last night. Awesome flick. He makes a good grumpy dude, anyway. Plus he had him a bit of a violent streak. Win-Win.

The best argument against democracy is a five minute conversation with the average voter.
Sir Winston Churchill (1874 - 1965)

All of my life I have used lawnmowers. If you live, or have ever lived, in the south you know, this is a true statement. You have a lot of chances to use them. No, we ain't got some wimpy 2-4 month lawn growing season. Ours goes 8 or 9 months easy, and if you skip a week you need a machete to beat the jungle back enough to get your mower in. So my question is this. WHAT'S HAPPENING? I cannot keep either of my mowers going.

I am useless with small engines. Or actually, I am just pretty useless with my hands in general. I joke that my toolbox contains a yellow pages and a mastercard. But still, all of my life I have kept a mower gassed up and full of oil. And it has always paid me back by cranking when I yanked the starter cord. A beautiful, healthy, totally symbiotic relationship. But here lately, every other, or every third mowing takes place after I take it across the street for small engine maintenance. Seriously, it spends almost as much time stripped down and soaking in carberateur cleaner (yes, I know, but I couldn't figure out how to spell carberateur) as it does actually mowing. So, it's not that I am suddenly taking less care of them. In fact, it is not possible for me to take less care of them.

All I can figure is it is one of two things, or possibly a combo of both. It is either that mower engines are now manufactured with exceedingly cheap ass components nowadays, or the ethenol in the gas is playing hell with the gas getting function. Yep.

Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere, out

Ramblin' Ed

You must not think me necessarily foolish because I am facetious, nor will I consider you necessarily wise because you are grave

Got a chance to get out of Houston City Limits and on out a ways into east Texas. I lived in the Shreveport area for a while, in an area known as the Ark-La-Tex. You can figure that out. Anyway, I know you have heard of Texarkana, so there you go.

Driving out through east Texas reminded me so much of Louisiana. It was baking hot and dripping humidity. And you could just feel the character of the place. The poverty, the surliness, the wary eyed look that would eventually break into genuine hospitality. If you turn out to be "all right". I could feel it. And it felt right again.

What does one listen to as a soundtrack for a hot, languid road trip through their not quite forgotten past? I started out with Potato Hole (Yep, I bought it), but it was more upbeat and funky than the drive required. Since I only have 2 CDs with me, I chose the other one. The git down, dirty, gritty....Drive By Truckers. Live from Austin City Limits CD. 3 Dimes Down. Zip City. Puttin' People on the Moon. The hope & despair of The Living Bubba. Yeah, there's the groove.
I could live in Texas.
Anybody that finds this picture beautiful, is a kindred spirit of mine. I love the past. I cherish it. Many times before I have voiced that sentiment. I am a Southerner through and through. I believe that our culture has brought us up to be that way. Not to live in the past, though many of my brothers and sisters seem to have understood it that way, but to make where we have been an intergral part of where we are going. You don't have to abandon your past to greet your future.

Work has been crazy dysfunctional at the airport, but having every third day off has made for some pleasant afternoons. Today is another of them.

It's so hard to communicate with insects. Or in this case, I guess, arachnids. Although, I go back to the original, because it really is hard to communicate with either. I was brushing my teeth a second ago (yes, I have come back to edit this) and there was a tiny spider on my shoulder. Tiny, but a spider nonetheless, so I didn't really want him there for long. Or at all.

I went to flick him away, but he moved...again and again. I was speakling all calm and soothing like about how we both win if he moves along. I would be spiderless and he would be unsquished. So yeah, I thought that was mighty sporting of me. But he kept bugging out. ( Heh heh heh....bugging out. Get it? ) Eventually, cooler heads prevailed, mine, and he got his butt in gear. Literally. He did that thing that spiders do where they lay out this escape thread out of their rear end and kinda parachute down and to safety. Good enough. Like I said, I was going for the win-win scenario anyway.

I am headed to Cincinnatti week after next. At least that is what the airport is called. My itinerary shows both the Airport Hilton (3 mi. from airport) and Hertz as having Kentucky addresses. My wife sometimes worries that I have a girlfriend on the road. As if! There's not really a female fan base for fat, sarcastic, middle aged guys. That I have found, anyway. Besides, she really need not worry about me fooling around in an area that saw fit to elect Jerry Springer mayor. It's like I told her, how could I fool around ?... I don't have a cousin up there. Pa dump dump!

There are 2 other things I keep meaning to tell you. When I am out and about I remember, when I sit down here I forget. It is pissing me off.

One thing was was about how there was a fender bender on FM 1960. 2 cars, nothing spectacular. What threw me for a loop was that lined up behind each wrecked car (so facing both inbound and outbound from my perspective driving up) was a line of about 8-10 wreckers...behind each vehicle.... waiting patiently for the constable to finish. I am driving along and I see 16 or 20 wreckers and am expecting to see a masacree. A veritible bloodbath. Instead, I get a Nissan and a Malibu with dented fenders.

Still can't remember the other thing. But I am shutting down the computer and heading out now, so it should come back to me soon. Dang CRS!!!

My problem pretty much lies in reconciling my gross habits with my net income, out
Ramblin' Ed

------------------------------

Boy, I sure screwed the meter up on this one. Apologies for that. But I like the story. And besides, nothing says you can't just skip it. That's why I put 'em at the bottom now, for your ease of skippage.

You Know Me, And You Know I (Just Ain't That Likely To)

I've been thinking 'bout you
and all those things that were left unsaid
when we said too much

There were a lot of things
that were in the way,
but I guess one wasn't trust

You were thinking I was something
you believed to be
was something more exciting than it was

You were thinking I had something
gonna set you free
Though I guess a guy like me, he never does

I was a man of many tales,
I was a man of many journeys
I was a man who lived in versions of the truth

I put those colors in my stories
'cause it seemed when they were painted
they always meant a whole lot more to you

That's the kind of thing I do

I'd like to say I'm sorry
when it comes to what we've done
To maybe hear your side of things
if you think there might be one

They always say to walk a mile
in someone else's shoes
But you know me, and you know I
just ain't that likely to

All the drinking I've done in your memory
is all the drinking I've done
it ain't made us seem no clearer
it ain't tied off what's undone

It ain't made me understand a thing
there's so much I don't know
like why you let me stay so long
like why you let me go

I'd like to say I'm sorry
when it comes to what we've done
To maybe hear your point of view
if you feel like having one

They say you ought to walk a mile
in someone else's shoes
But you know me, and you know I
ain't really likely to

Sometimes I think you know just why
sometimes I can't sit still
But you don't give me nothing
And I know you never will

Been thinking I should find somewhere
to stay and settle down
to try ignoring all the voices
telling me to blow this town

Hey, I've been thinking 'bout you
and all those things that were left unsaid
when we said too much

there were so many things
that we got all wrong
we got so in out of love

And I'd like to say I'm sorry
when it comes to what we've done
To maybe hear your side of things
if you think there might be one

They always say to walk a mile
in someone else's shoes
But you know me, and you know I
just ain't that likely to

Ed
Houston, TX
2 Aug 2009

Confusion is always the most honest response (Or, Amazing Tales from the Eyebrow of the Storm)

St. Pete as viewed from the pier.

Lake Ontario shoreline.

Out in the sticks, NE of Kingston, Ontario

Same sticks, different building

The Busker Festival outside my hotel

The busker festival was, if you know what "busker" means was a celebration of street performers. Buskers perform for tips, and that was the case here. There was music, acrobatics, magic, and children's shows. The ambiance was pretty cool, but the pictures did not capture that so well. So I saved myself the server space of posting mediocre pics.

Just outside of Kingston, I stopped at a place called Boston Pizza. Mainly it was the first thing I had run across in a while. And I also knew that buying a pizza for lunch usually took care of dinner later. Cold pizza, mmmmmm.

They had pretty much just specialty pizzas and I ended up with a perogie pizza. Now, if you don't know what a perogie is you're thinking, "Ewww...what's a perogie? Why would you put it on a pizza? Sounds like some kind of building material." But if you do know what a perogie is, then you are thinking, "Ewwww! What on earth possessed them to put that on a pizza??" But actually, it was quite tasty. It did, however, raise the question of whether the city of Boston knows that weird specialty pizzas are being hawked in Canada under their name and, more importantly, do they care?

Everybody lies, but it doesn't matter because nobody listens

While I was at the prison working, there was a problem. The prisoners did not want to return to their cells. They were asked nicely and then asked nicely again. Still no dice. Since I did not really understand what was going on, I will give you the condensed, color coded version of what I saw.

Inmates: We will not go in.

Prison: Please?

No!

Pretty please?

No!

Send your union rep to see the warden. (No, really...the prisoners are represented)

OK

Warden: They will have to be punished

Union guy: They prefer not to be. They will not return to their cells if they will be punished for their insubordination.

But they must be punished

They don"t want to be.

How about we cut the punishment in half. Would that do it?

I will go run it past the prisoners. I think I can sell it that way

Me, Ed Abernathy: What the hell did I just witness?!!?

I have been working. That's a fact. That's my excuse. Turks. Americans. Japanese. You bring 'em and I'll teach 'em. Gearing up for 12 - 14 days in Houston. Yee-haw! Well, at least I won't get there in the summer just to find out I should have brung a jacket (are you listening Massachusetts and Ontario?). It will be sweltering, same as here.

Yeah, that is a guy with a TV on his head. He was doing techno music with a couple of other guys. Or trip hop. Or whatthehellever music. Not up on my labels. Now, he might look like a loser, but let me assure you, they were not all that good either.

Today is my anniversary. Eight years. Or nine. I have the date in my Blackberry and could do the math from there. Suffice to say, it's been a while. My first marriage lasted 10 years, but since this one does not involve a redneck redhead with a taste for crack cocaine, it might go longer. I don't know whether to shudder or smile.

We are taking some young friends out to eat to celebrate. We are going to The Columbia Restaurant in Ybor City. I once took the Red Queen there on the advice of my father. See we were good friends. We wanted to date, but didn't. We'd tiptoe up to the edge of dating, smile a weak smile, and step back. I think for she, and I know for me, dating someone always led to screwing up the friendship. We didn't want that. So we didn't.

There we were, headed out on a non-date, all dressed up and nervous. Dad asked where I was going to take her and I said, "I don't know, probably for pizza."He told me to take her someplace nice instead, like the Columbia. Well, Mr. Minimum Wage (yours truly, who toiled away in a warehouse for $3.80 an hour) was shocked...shocked I tell ya. I could never afford that. Well, it seems I could. Dad reasoned, and correctly so, that if you don't order drinks and fancy appetizers, the price of the entrees themselves were on par with buying a pizza. so you could both dress up and act with all the grace and high school sophistication you desired without breaking the bank. The non-date ended with a non-kiss and a non-invitation to come in for coffee. But we were well fed.

Just as a side note, you need to be aware that dressing up in the timeframe we are talking abought would include any or all of the following: leisure suit, print rayon shirt with a wide collar, platform soles. Just so you know. I have pictures to prove it.... that you'll never see.

Work with me people, c'mon, out

Ramblin' Ed

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A long time ago, when I was young, I had to come to grips with some things. In my fashion, I chose to do it in rhyme. As with most everything I've penned, these were for me. Again, as with most things I've ever penned, I share them with you.

When Johnny Comes Marching Home/Amazing Grace

The revoulotion's timeless

your opposition spineless

your brother's in the trenches

with the luckless sons of bitches

preparing for the onslought

no matter what we once thought

God has breathed his breath

on the men awaiting death

as they sing Amazing Grace

Preparing for the bloodbath

on the resurrected warpath

yeah, the propaganda's changed

but their smiling face remains

Saying, "Fight to keep your homeland free

If not for you, then just for me"

for the children born this weary day

while in agony you pass away

They can sing amazing grace

The war machine rolls right along

drowning out our fighting song

the crucifix that gives us strength

shall never fall in grim defeat

your brother in the trench has died

but God and luck were on our side

our enemies, our godless foes

were crushed beneath our righteous blows

Let us sing Amazing Grace

The Humanity Humility

Listen, can you hear it

in your father's old fatigues

Born into fighting spirit

can you see the DMZ?

It's not like in a fantasy,

the two of us can bleed

we led our troops to battle

with humanity

Do you remember

you were only seventeen

you fought for truth

you were a hero in blue jeans

armed with youth

but we lost everything, it seems

You were half a special team

we learned humility

It was so peaceful

like the California shore

It was decietful

for we were burdened with a war

of such dimensions

it couldn't grow no more

Hand in hand we swore

to live forever

It was dark and it was raining

the troops all ran for cover

The battle was still raging

we just looked at one another

Man, there ain't no use in praying

they've already got your brother

And that altered my decision

altogether

I remember,

what it was in sixty-eight

it was December

and the snow was coming late

Yet we were hindered

by all the cobwebs of our fate

and humanity was laughing

in our faces

We surrendered

We put our youth away

and we surrendered

we can fight another day

But we'll remember

until they put us in our graves

that humanity was laughing

in our face

Chester MacHenry

Chester MacHenry came back from the ocean

with four missing teeth and a parrot named Stan

an old wooden leg that he took off for sleeping

and a hard thirst for rum that he never could kill

When Chester MacHenry came back from the sea

wearing tattoos and taboos from all over the world

He had this look in his eye like the rage of a stallion

and a soft spot inside for the girl they called Lil

Said, "Chester, oh Chester,

you old salty dog.

Got your head in the clouds,

are you lost in the fog?"

Old Chester MacHenry,

a man for all times

still longing to be

west of latitude lines

Now Chester MacHenry's confined to his shanty

his old wooden leg in a heap by his bed

Stan's on his perch, drinking beer and still cursing

Might be only a bird, but he's more than a friend

Now the cold winter wind's blowing off the Atlantic

I guess rum and a blanket will keep a man warm

Stan's screaming something 'bout freezing tailfeathers

it seems that they both feel the same in the end

Chester MacHenry came back from the ocean

with stories to tell about places he'd been

he'd share them with anyone willing to listen

for Chester MacHenry was a lonely old man

Seems all that old Chester brough back from the ocean

was four missing teeth and a parrot named Stan

an old wooden leg that he took off for sleeping

Yes, Chester MacHenry was one lonely man