The to do list

Actually, this'll be odds and ends.

First off, I guess, nobody gets to get mad. You can disagree, that's OK. You can disagree with me and say so. I don't mind. I am, and have always been, a strong proponent of social discourse and think most of our problems stem from getting mad first and talking never. You may disagree with other posters and that too is OK. But since someone's opinion cannot be wrong, just out of synch with your own, you have to let them voice it. If you choose to rebutt, then you only get to say "I don't agree". We're a civil bunch here. I've thought about this for a couple of days and now that I have more than 2 other readers I figured the ground rules needed to be stated. The only other "rule", if it can even be called a rule, is that you should try to work into each comment something about me being cool, or wise, or an anecdote about how knowing me has helped change your life (preferrably for the better).

We keep a white board TO DO list in the dining room. I'll move it eventually, but right now that's the only table in the house so the room has become my makeshift office. Anyway, the wife is the one who keeps it updated. I understand everything she writes. And she spells remarkably well, although the vowels e and a seem to be a bit interchangeable for her. I think it's because of her accent. She spells things the way they sound. I took a picture of it to illustrate this. It's an interactive thing for you, too. She has a doctor's appointment on Sept 22nd and a dentist's appointment on the 27th. See if you can spot them. Good.

I took a test. A white trash test. According to this scientifical test, I am now a mere 44% white trash. I definately used to be more, but I have apparently grown some. I know the score would have been a lot higher if I had been asked if something had ever applied, as opposed to does it apply today. But that's OK. I guess it's not a bad thing that I can put on slacks and a polo shirt and be at ease with the Buick driving set, or sit on an upside down 5 gallon bucket outside a Louisiana Conoco station, barefoot and shirtless, holding my own telling stupid moonshine stories. OK, I only got 2 stupid moonshine stories. But I can really drag 'em out when I tell them. And the subject doesn't really come up all tht often.

I love my computer. It keeps me connected to y'all. it's not as portable as I'd like, and it only has 30k of memory. But the screen is at a good angle and the black and white display doesn't hurt my poor, aging eyes. When it quits being useful I guess I'll toss it. But I think she's got a couple of good years left in her.

I got a call from an old friend up in Erie, PA yesterday. She wanted to tell me she was sad about New Orleans and the Mississippi coast. It was cool of her. She, like me, is a great music fan, a great fan of good food, and an overall enjoyer of life. Naturally, we stomped through the Big Easy a few times together. When I was living in Pascagoula I invited her and another couple to come visit me and enjoy the south. "Oh, we've already seen the south", was their reply. "Really??", I asked, to which they said, "Oh my yes. New Orleans."

"No, kids, New Orleans is not the south. It's its own place, even for Louisiana." So I got them to come spend a week with me in The Hospitality State.

And we did. We rode airboats in the swamps. Took a fishing trip out in the bayou. They freaked out when I pulled off my shirt and dove off the boat and into the bayou to swim. We bought bait worms in a convienience store ("Eeewwww... they're in with the soda pops!" "Well dang, girl, they're IN a carton."). We played pool in a gas station. Ate crawfish gumbo from a street stand. Got my truck stuck in the mud and had to be pulled out by another bubba. It was emabrrassing, a Ford rescuing my GMC. And my friends didn't even understand why that was embarrassing.

There were more things. Being from PA, they'd never seen beer in a 7-11 or grocery store or heard "Thank y'all" that many times in a day. They were amazed that using the boat ramp was only $3, and even more amazed that you were on the honor system to stick the money through a little hole in the door.
Yankee friends: "What? Nobody was there?"
Ramblin' Ed: "Nope."
YF: "So what do we do? Wait?"
RE: "Naw. I already paid. Let's go."
YF: "Paid? Paid who?"
RE: I just stuck it in the hole in the door."
YF: "Why?"
RE: "'Cause that's what you do."
YF: "But how do they know you've paid?"
RE: "I did pay."
YF: "But what if someone didn't?"
RE: "But we would. It's just 3 bucks."
YF: "But couldn't someone not pay? They wouldn't know."
RE: "OK, I suppose you could NOT pay and get away with it. Just we wouldn't do that."
YF: "The south is really weird."

Here's some pics I just took this morning because I like them. Buddha shelf for the wife and my feet. I like my feet because they take me places. And no, it's not a foot fetish thing. I like my feet. I don't give a hank anout your feets.

Ramblin' Ed