Oh, gloomy-hued sky
of sun so bereft!
What fate that I
would then take the first left!
Whilst the 1%’s grinding
but hasn’t yet won;
our assets they’re finding
Will they take our last $1?
Meanwhile, we’re green while
cool spring rain has pelted;
the grass out the ass
grew tall after snow melted.
Will it dither
or wither as I drive upon it?
Or arise and lay flat
festooned with yellow bonnet?
Hah! Spry dandelions perkyand testing their mettle
with things still a bit murky
to support the rose petal.
Slumber, oh cucumber!
We’ve got your number!
the infernal pull of having to be on time for something, say, a social
function, that elicits trepidation on the part of you, the participant, who with
temerity will tromp the accelerator and make otherwise inadvisable automotive moves
in order to get your butt to the destination on time.
As per the non-venerable Whupsteen’s sage philosophy:
“If given the choice ‘twixt being on edge or on time, just RSVP – and remain
So as our destination draws quite a bit nearer, I pick my nose and see how it
goes, take a peek from the rear-view mirror.
One judges a driver by company he keeps: gas hog? Late
arriver? Or do they drive Jeeps?
Rick H is a fella with whom I recently reconnected, and suffice to say, not having
seen him in 40 years, he looks just as damn old as expected; gray around the
temples, just like me and all the others.
He did some crazy shit back then, too, just like the rest of us.
But nobody – NOBODY – did what he did with a Chevy Vega. No, Rick was a brash road
Who else ever tried shoehorning a 350 LT1 into a Vega?
QUERIES TO A FOREST SAGE
Salutations, oh Forest Sage!
Omniscient upon the forest stage!
Please whip me out a botanical page
and make it an arborist’s sheaf!
Then I will engage
with a systemic rage
and turn over a spankin’ new leaf!
Why, oh sage great
I have noticed of late
as I peruse the damp forest floor:
does some deadwood that’s fallen
turn green when it’s all in
a spot that we need to restore?
THE SAGE THEN RESPONDED:
”That green is just envy
oh, yes, if you will
and at times, lad, it can be
some stale chlorophyll."
You can buy cans of cheap-ass spray foam insulation that has
too many drawbacks to list, but several come to the fore, such as: better use
the ENTIRE can in one shot or be left with product that can’t be safely
extracted, having hardened in the exit cavity.
Store an unopened can for too long and see what happens!
I made that mistake, and then made another worse mistake
while attempting to utilize the still-full can by drilling a hole in the nozzle.POOOF!
The ooze flowed fast and furious as I directed it into rust cavities in rocker
Undocumented workers back in the newswhilst Gitmo prevails
in contrarian views.Meanwhile, day after day,week after week,the wood pile
out backhasn’t cut any slack,and two birches died back by the creek.
Tomorrow, the first sunny day of summera non-bummer,we depart for hotter
environsto attend a memorial servicefor one who two months ago dearly
Life, however, intervened.So instead of embarking on the 4+ hour drivebefore
midnight, we packed the car,and then packed it in.Hells bells, 3 hours sleep
in one’s own bedbeats hell out of that.
Bloat set inand attendant gross indigestionbopped along for the alimentary ride.Hardly surprising,considering the onslaughtof foreign substances–
otherwise known as restaurant food –and rank acidic coffee brewedwith fluoridated, chlorinated water.Ergo it stewed.Lower GI
micro-flora thus evicted,a belly fuss made that was
predicted!Before our banquet was completeI was near
unsteady on my feetand coming soon I could deducedamn soon
stools would be so loose!Surely as that greasy dishMother
Nature granted a wishyup, having eaten in starts and fitsI
wasn’t bleatin’but sure had the shits.
The extra long table
beckoned, splaying across that back room allotted for our familial
banquet as we ambled in, chilled by drafty air conditioning.Some
briefly marveled at the fireplaces that grace the place.Bevvy
set up shop prior to beverage proffering, firing up a WIFI-enabled
tablet on which his merrily chattering daughter soon appeared, her
witty repartee intermittently chopped by infinitesimal connection
interruptions that garbled her frozen facial expressions in
characteristic digital fashion whilst snipping off chunks of
words.But nobody seemed to bat an eye or ear; attendees were used
to such cyber-flakiness; in fact, some were addicted.
One notable occurrence
is worthy of mention: the deceased's father-in-law got up to make an
announcement, presumably a PROnouncement, regarding the deceased –
or at least some commemoration thereof – just about the time the
last tidbit of dessert had been gnashed or boxed up and folks started
to get restless, prior to a decidedly vigorous busing of the
table.But it was not to be.The now-elderly gent lavished
few words of praise before launching into a countervailing climate
science riposte, pillorying climatologists of Kyoto-esque persuasion
and assessing the consensus of global warming as “pure
bullshit”.In the end, CO2 prevailed.
Memories gushed in a delightful torrent as we swooped over
those smooth suburban streets to my cousin’s place. We parked the rusty ride and
sauntered up to the split-level’s main entrance – one graced by Uncle and
Auntie for nearly 50 years.
Oh, many an “if-only” surfaced along with loving memories of this grouchy uncle
and his stern, stalwart spouse.
But it was deeply satisfying to again pick the capacious brain of JR: mega-mechanic,
self-taught computer expert and former body man extraordinaire, of whose
scintillating skills we were very much aware. Hark! Glance at that jet black 1960
Corvette so fair!