Things Been Thinking

This is a picture, taken while fishing in Tampa Bay, of a pretty cool house. That's downtown in the background.

This post is nowhere near as complete as I wanted it. I have a long, rambling, surprisingly coherent post rattling around in my head. But even trying the bits and pieces approach, it is taking way too long to get it out. So this will have to do.

When I was a kid we used to have to scrub our hands with a bar of sandpaper called Lava Soap. Do they even still make that anymore? I remember joking that it was able to get our grubby little boy hands...and wrists...and arms up to the elbow...clean beacuse it just took off the top layer of skin and all. Ahhhh, childhood disfigurement.

OK, make fun of his hair all you want, but heck, I like the theory that "you can't join 'em, you have to beat 'em". And I especially like what it says in the last sentence:

"I'm glad that, today, the architect of the 1993 plan has another care proposal -- and if imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then I'm flattered," said Edwards, a former U.S. senator from North Carolina. "The lesson Senator Clinton seems to have learned from her experience with health care is, 'If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.' I learned a very different lesson from decades of fighting powerful interests -- you can never join 'em, you just have to beat 'em." Edwards' proposal would cut off health care for the president, Congress and all political appointees in mid 2009, if a universal health care plan for all Americans has not been passed by then.

I am working on a series of 3 new poems titled RA1, RA2, and RA3. I have fininshed RA1. I am half done with RA2. Still thinking about RA3. The completed one will appear later in this post.

I got a reply to a July 2006 post where I talked about a house band called The Snard Brothers. I rememberized all about Virginia Beach in the winter in the early '80s, the lounge at the VA Beach Hilton (Lavernes), and about partying with the band in a Nissan 240Z that belonged to one of them. Well, the reply was from one Bobby Snard, one year later denying it all and telling me that I must remember wrong. [Actual comment: Anonymous said... If you were burning a joint with someone who owned a 240Z it wasn't Bobby Snard. You have your Snards mixed up! Bobby Snard] Well I beg to kinda differ. I may have which of the Snard Bros wrong, but.... if I got the 80s, Lavernes, VA Beach and the 240Z correct, well then Bobby, you were there and you know who I meant. And really, what's the point in rebutting a year old post in an obscure blog that is only read by 2 people? Get a life. Oh yeah... don't it seem kind of sad that you're sitting home with nothing better to do than googling yourself? And that can be the ONLY way that you found my blog.

RA1 25 Sept 07

Nearly breathless as a Sunday morning
About as restless as a sidestreet high
Would seem about as close to disappearing
As the stories wrote by you and I

New shadows fall
And seem to crawl
Along the edges
Of a wall you're building
Around the things
That made you mean
So very much
That I was always willing

Take a picture like you've lost a lover
Colors bleeding down along the sides
A zipper theory you can just imagine
Running up and down our Friday nights

If colors swirl
Then, like you girl
A softness works
Into the hard I'm feeling
That tends to slam
Until it jams
Up underneath
A paint we can't stop peeling

Don't you call me if you won't talk crazy
Don't you leave me if you can't stay gone
You sneak a smile and then I can't stop thinking
We're just as crooked as we were before

Ed
St. Petersburg

I was watching with interest when the monks jouned the protests in Mynamar. You really have to be on the wrong side of things to mobilize monks agaist you, because they are so peaceful usually. In fact, except when attacked, Buddhists are quite tranquil and forgiving. All the things most religions claim to be but don't live up to. I knew the government would try to wait them out, but would not be real patient. Sure enough, the security forces waded in yesterday. Eventually they will begin firing into the crowds.

The credit card readers in the gas station went out yesterday. After I had already filled my tank. Nothing I could do or they could do. It was just one of them things. Asked me if I had any cash and I replied, truthfully, I have $11. So I paid $11 for the tank. I was telling that to the wife and she said, "That's cool!" I replied, "If you hadn't made me take the $10 last night that I kept telling you I didn't need, I'd have gotten it for $1."

Respect your elders, you punk!, out

Ramblin' Ed