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