The more things change, the more they remain insane

I drive 60 mph, which is sometimes speeding, but most times is less than the limit. Anyway, I do 60 in a 45 or 50 all the time and don't even get a yawn out of the police. Apparently you either have to be really smoking or they have the COPS camera crew with them..."I'm pulling him over for a cracked tailight and...whoa nelly!, look at all the crack!"

With that said, a few of the things that make me feel all weird and alternate universey.

Alt uni #1: I will be doing 60 MPH on I-275 across the Howard Frankenstien Bridge, which is for all intents and purposes an 8 lane speedway disguised as a bridge across Tampa Bay. The posted limit is 65, the de facto speed limit more like 90. I'll be putt putting along in the far right lane and realize I am not being passed. Alt universe. Or sometimes I am actually gaining on the cars in front of me. That really messes me up. Did I miss a sign or something? How can I be passing people? Why am I going faster than everyone else? Check the dash...nope, 60. What is happening? THIS IS NOT CORRECT!!

Alt uni #2: There are no, or few, other cars on the road. Having a history of waking up and getting on with my daily routine not realizing that it is 0145 and not 0345, when I find myself alone on my commute, I not only begin checking all clocks and watches within view, I begin to wonder if they are, in fact, correct.

Alt uni #3: You have the only cans at the curb. You know it is trash day. Or at least you think you know that on every Wednesday night the cans and recycle bins go curbside. Or asphaltside, as we are curbless. But the usually prompt neighbors got nothing out front. The old lady who puts hers out in the afternoon also has nothing out front. You gaze up and down the street and find that you are, in fact, the Lone Garbage Arranger. Now you're doing math on your fingers, consulting your "palm pilot", as it were. Is today not Wednesday? No...I'm pretty sure it is. Is tomorrow a holiday? Don't think so. June 25th ain't ringing no festive bells for me. Eventually I will leave them curb, I mean, asphaltside and hope I'm not missing something. You cannot imagine the sense of relief I get when in the morning I see cans lined up and down the asphalt's edge. Or perhaps you can.

The reason there is so little crime in Germany is that it's against the law. - Alex Levin

'Who are you and how did you get in here?' 'I'm a locksmith. And, I'm a locksmith.' - Leslie Nielsen

A reckless deciple out spreading the news, out

Ramblin' Ed

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The Land of Milk & Honeychild

Mama, understand it now?
It's so hard to be an angel
It's a mercenary world out there
all battle scars and danger
And it would just as soon devour me
yeah, all that it would leave us
are some memories we held as truth
like Sunday Schools and Jesus

Mama, I have tried so hard
to live a life of dedication
You know that's what I tried to do
but we are a violent nation
Thus mechanized, I realized
this thing has just begun
Both angels and the damned must work
now hand in hand as one

Mama, I have held that torch
that led me from my homeland
to light up pathways never known
but it vindicated no men
All the pacifists are blinded
by the glory of this day
It's so hard to be an angel
when the angels have been slain

Now the battlefield is littered
with the ones who thought it fair
To confront a growing evil
with an ornamental prayer
To break the bread and cry aloud
there on mankind's behalf
It's comical. The cancer grew.
The Lord just laughed and laughed.

First Peter. Second Peter.
Then it all just petered out.
The pages blew on seperate winds
and left no room for doubt
Yeah, this evil, and we see it,
it has led us to the verge
of suicide, beneath it lies
a systematic purge

Mama, understand it now?
It's so hard to be an angel

It's a mercenary world out there

all battle scars and danger

And it would just as soon devour me

and all that it would leave us

are the memories we held as truth

like Sunday Schools and Jesus

Ed

Walking #1

I've been walking all alone so long
I've forgotten why I started
All the bridges I may come to
well, I think I may have crossed
Still, I never let no lack of bridges
leave me broken hearted
and I haven't got the words to say
I think I might be lost

I drink a couple beers at night
I cry on with the jukebox
I don't wonder who I'm kidding
I've been laughing all along
I have spent a bent up fortune
playing sad songs on the jukebox
There's a road that's paved with quarters
it's the road to take me home

I think I might just head out west
they say it's such a wonder
that something seems so very dead
is a symphony at rest
They tell me you can talk to God
and he'll answer on the thunder
with directions to a good motel
keys waiting at the desk

Yeah, it happened like this long ago
to an imitation cowboy
I reckon all the names are changed
but it happened just the same
He'd been talking to himself so long
he'd forgotten why he started
But that was many years ago
and probably it's all changed
Ed