R.I.P. New Years Resolution

Yesterday I decided not to write anything, so today the Daily Notes Project died peacefully in its sleep at 12:00 a.m. PST. A DNR order was in effect, and no resuscitation was attempted. The remains of the Daily Notes Project will be cremated on Friday, and sprinkled over the interweb. No services will be held.

Hello?

I don’t think there’s a more helpless feeling than being at the wrong end of a phone line when someone you love is in danger. The first time it happened to me was about ten years ago when my wife was working in Tacoma (about an hour from home.) That day at about noon I answered a call from her cell phone only to hear a man say “Hello, is this Randy? Your wife asked me to call you. She’s just been hit by a car.”  As the ambulance was speeding toward her, and I was speeding toward the hospital she took the phone to try to talk, but instead passed out, dropping the phone in the street. The drive to town probably took forty minutes, but it felt like forever. Although badly banged up and left with a shoulder that still aches to this day, she's lucky she wasn’t more seriously injured.

The second time it happened was this morning when my youngest son called to ask how to fix an electric hot water heater. He lives in an apartment in Tacoma, not too far from where my wife was hit by the car. “Turn off the breaker, then take off the top panel and look for a red reset button” I told him. A couple minutes later he pressed the red button, and it clicked just like it should to reset. I waited on the phone as he went to turn the breaker back on. The next thing I heard was my son yelling “it’s on fire!” Then I heard a lot of commotion, but he didn’t answer as I tried to tell him to turn the breaker off and ask if the fire was inside the water heater panel, or if it was spreading. My first thought was to run to the truck like I did when I got the call about my wife, which in this case was stupid. Then I went to get the landline to call 911, but I kept asking if he was okay. Still there was no answer; just more commotion and his neighbor yelling “what’s happening” as he yelled back “there’s a fire.” Seriously, I’m getting too old for this kind of stress.

Finally he picked up the phone, probably twenty seconds later (but again it felt like forever) and told me the fire was out. He had run down to the end of the building, broken open the fire extinguisher case, and returned to put out the fire. I’m proud of the kid, but we agreed… no more electrical troubleshooting over the phone.

Follow up note: The new hot water heater will be installed on Monday, and they’re going to check out that suspect breaker also. The repairman assured my son that he did everything right, and there’s no way it should have been able to catch fire. Plus the apartment’s going to give him a free carpet cleaning. Apparently he emptied the extinguisher, and made a hell of a mess. Again I feel lucky, and it really makes me think about, and feel empathy for those people who have had to listen to real tragedies from the wrong end of a phone line.

A New S.N.L. Script for Gilda Radner (Do they have dark humor in heaven?)

(Warning: Not politically correct)

Chevy Chase: Weekend Update recognizes its obligation to present responsible opposing viewpoints to our editorials. Here to reply to a recent editorial, is Emily Litella.

Emily Litella: I'm here tonight to speak out against using the youth in Asia to kill off sick people in America. If someone is so sick they want to die, I think we should let a doctor help them do it peacefully. PETA wouldn’t stand for youth in Asia killing sick kittens, so why would we let them kill sick people? I think using youth in Asia would be cruel. Have you ever watched one of those Kung Fu movies? Can you imagine putting your grandmother in a room with one of those ninja’s? Why would anyone want to make this legal? Ninja’s killing helpless sick people just so they can save money on morphine or something. Imagine if you got so sick they couldn’t save you. You wouldn’t care about the morphine bill. I mean…

Chevy Chase: [ interrupting ] Miss Litella?

Emily Litella: Yes?

Chevy Chase: I'm sorry. The editorial was about allowing states to legalize euthanasia. That means allowing people to die with the assistance of Dr. prescribed drugs... not by allowing ninja’s to beat them to death.

Emily Litella: Oh. I'm sorry... Never mind.

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They say that if you leave enough monkeys with typewriters in a room for a long enough period of time that eventually one of them will write a quality piece of literature (or something to that effect.) Well on behalf of the Daily Notes Project... “We need more monkeys in here!”

Strange Awakening

Continued from 2-3-2011:

Nashville, Tennessee, Monday, August 21, 2017, 12:32 p.m.: Air Force officials report a series of sonic booms just north of the city. Minutes later 911 operators are flooded with calls of meteorites, flying objects, roaring noises, and explosions. By 12:45 p.m. news sources begin broadcasting reports of a possible attack on the city. Witnesses describe a streak of white, or line of white flying objects shooting through the top of the Signature Tower at 505 Church Street, tearing gaping holes in the upper floors of the building before ascending into the southern sky.
 
As tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of people in the Southern United States stand in their yards, and outside their workplaces to witness today’s  much anticipated total solar eclipse, breaking news reports begin coming out of Nashville: “Streak tears off top four stories of Signature Tower - Two confirmed dead - 86 missing and presumed dead.” Later reports would claim: “Top of building cleanly removed – Top floors entirely obliterated - Debris trail stretches five miles - No sign of the 86 missing.”

Waiting for Something to Develope

I’m sitting in the truck with a new appreciation for digital cameras, as I wait for my film to be developed. Yes, that’s right “film.” Oh, waiting isn’t the bad part. I’ve got a good book here about Thomas Jefferson (American Sphinx) and my trusty notepad, and if all else fails there’s a crossword puzzle book in the back. The photo lady did say my pictures would be ready by noon though, and it’s pushing 12:30, but like I said it’s not the wait… it’s the cost that’s making me regret pulling the old Cannon underwater camera out of the closet to document my Honduran snorkel adventure. To develop five rolls of Advantex film, and put the pics on a CD they want over $65.00! Jeeze, I could have bought a cheap digital camera for that and put it in a ziplock baggie. Probably would have gotten better photos too. If I remember right very few of those underwater photos ever turn out anyways. Maybe I should just make a run for it, and leave the pictures behind.

Wholly ¢®@℗!

If you read yesterday’s note you might think I’m a little sour on this whole “rich getting richer – poor getting poorer” thing. Well maybe you’re right. Maybe these fat cats aren’t doing as well as I think. I mean before I go shootin’ my mouth off here about tens of millions of dollars a year I should probably get my facts straight. Okay let’s open up the old web browser and Google up some facts: h-e-d-g-e—f-u-n-d—m-a-n-a-g-e-r—s-a-l-e-r-y …click ENTER …Wholly crap! Wholly crap! …$5 billion?

Okay, now I’m more sour than before. I’m going over to the Notebook to write this one down. If you want to follow along just click on "The Notebook of R.J. Moody" link up there to your right and find the Feburary 28th entry to see who made $5 billion dollars last year. Wholly crap!

Cold brings out the complaining in me

Yes, the U.S. of A. is screwed again just like it was in the 1890’s and the 1930’s, and just like before it was the filthy rich who caused it, and it’s the middle class (or what’s left of it) who are expected to fix it. While Wall Street hedge fund managers, bankers and corporate CEO's (making tens of millions of dollars a year) shop the world for cheap labor and lucrative investments, American workers are told they need to tighten their belts ‘cause the country can no longer afford to support their highfalutin middle class lifestyles.

And the winner is...

The winner of this month’s Bob's Guess Where I am Game™, and recipient of the prestigious honorary title "Sharpest Crayon in the Box" is Lightly for correctly guessing the Isle of "Jonesville Point" - Roatan, Honduras (on Feb 21^st.) Congratulations Lightly!

It’s too hot… I take that back!

Today it was well above 80° as I carried the luggage across the tarmac to the airplane and I was moaning that it was too hot. Tonight it was below 20° as I carried the luggage across the snow and into the house. Looks like I won’t be complaining about the heat for awhile.

My Favorites

After nearly two weeks of eating and drinking and thoroughly enjoying the Village of West End, Roatan I’m ready to announce the winners of this vacation’s coveted Moody Awards:

The envelopes please…

Best food: (a tie) The Rotisserie and The Noodle Shack

Best dessert: The Rotisserie

Best spot for a drink: Sundowner’s

Best spot for a cheap drink: Happy Hour

Best cheap breakfast: Coconut Café

Best iced mocha: The Wet Spot

Best street view deck dining: Cannibal Café

Best Ocean view deck dining: Half Moon Bay Restaurant

Best boat cruise destination: Hole in the Wall Restaurant

Best taxi destination: Coxen Hole waterfront

Best snorkeling: Half Moon Bay (along the left shore inside and outside the reef)

 

If you're looking for a laid back Caribbean destination West End, Roatan might be just what you're looking for. It's a little jewel among giants. I can only compare it to Cancun, The Bahamas, and Jamaica, but it stacks up well and I hope to return some day!

Cruzin' the City

We left the village of West End today to spend an afternoon in the big city of Coxen Hole. Coxen Hole (Roatan’s urban center) is where the cruise ships dock several times each week to offload thousands of tourists into the island economy. The city’s inhabitants open up their shops and restaurants for the duration of each ship’s visit, turning the waterfront into a giant flea market. The locals are eager to welcome you and ready to bargain, and while of course they want your money, they're also quite polite and quick to accept “no thank you” as your final answer. As pleasant as it is during the day however, I'm told that it isn’t the safest place to be at night… so if you ever take a cruise there, be sure to get back to your ship on time.

Hanging out with Squid

What a great snorkeling morning I had today. While swimming through a sunlit channel in the coral reef I came upon a squid. It was about a foot and a half long with big black eyes and multicolored lines running down its translucent body. When I swam over to take its picture it darted off (the coolest fish always seem to do that, while the drab ones just float there begging you to waste your film on them) so I chased it around for a bit. Soon I was circling it, or it was circling me… it was hard to tell. When I stopped, it stopped, and we just floated there looking at each other. I took several photos as it posed in all the classic squid poses; first stretched straight, then sort of hunched up ready to dart off again, then all flared out like you’d expect to see in the centerfold of Squid Magazine. Thinking I had a pretty good variety of squid photos I stopped taking pictures, but it kept on posing… looking at me with that big black eye. Then more posing, and again with the eye. I had to explain to it that I was almost out of film, and needed to save the last few exposures just in case something fantastic swam up. The squid was insulted. It was awkward, but we just floated there together for a few minutes watching the other fish.

Then a beautiful black fish with glowing neon blue dots and a bright yellow tail swam by, so I bid the squid adieu, and followed fishius fantasticus out into the open water. Remember what I said about the coolest fish? I may have a blurred picture of a yellow tail to show you later, but you’re probably gonna have to trust me on the neon blue dots. Later after snorkeling around the reef for awhile I decided it was time to return to shore, but before going back in I returned to the spot where I left the squid. It was still there, and this time it didn’t dart off. We hung out for as bit, communicating as best we could “eye to eye” and then I pointed the camera at it, and took my last photo. It seemed pleased, and so was I as I swam back to shore… hoping that some of the photos turn out.

Half Moon Bay

I hope to begin the next few mornings just like today… snorkeling Half Moon Bay. The varieties of corals, creatures, and fish are amazing. The slower you swim, and the closer you look, the more you see. I think I could drift around all day among these colorful inhabitants of the reef, and be as happy as a sea turtle.” After seeing this, I think the life of clam is way over rated.  

The Hole in the Wall (and a giveaway clue to our location)

A boat ride to the other end of the island today took us to The Hole in the Wall. “The Hole in the Wall” is a very odd, and highly recommended local restaurant that can only be reached by boat. The restaurant I’m told was established this way: Years ago (from the looks of it I’d guess decades ago) the owner (a very salty looking old gentleman) sailed his catamaran into this island inlet where it sank near a rock cliff. Instead of repairing the boat, or even abandoning the boat and leaving, he built a two story stone house right against the cliff. The cliff itself is the back wall of the house. Pretty smart huh? He only had to build three walls. Then he built a large wood dock over the top of the sunken boat, and on the dock he built a restaurant called The Hole in the Wall.

Other than an array of cold drinks, The Hole in the Wall offers only one thing on its menu… Everything. The Everything cost 475 limps, or about $25 U.S. dollars, and consists of all the steak, crab, lobster tails, mashed potatoes, baked beans, coleslaw, bread, and pineapple cake you can eat, plus all the local hand rolled cigars you can smoke (and they let you stuff a few in your pockets for later.)  Because I was so stuffed full of all the other good food, I had to stop after just six lobster tails, and almost fell asleep on the boat ride back. But now I’m back “home” sitting out on the deck with a rum and coke, and I’ve got my second wind, so if you’ll excuse me I’ve got a hand rolled Honduran cigar to smoke.

No Socks!

For a good time in a third world country, don’t look like a tourist! Tourists tend to pay higher prices here, and are more frequent targets of beggars and criminals. To be treated like a local, or at least a savvy repeat visitor there are a few simple things you need to remember:

1. Don’t wear caps, or t-shirts printed with the names of other tourist destinations.
2. Leave the jewelry at home.
3. Pack light (only tourists carry big suitcases and garment bags.)
4. Casual, casual, casual. Don’t be afraid to look a little disheveled.
5. Dump the fat wallet and use local currency
6. Don’t get sunburned.
7. No Socks! (flip flops, sandals, or Crocks)

But it is okay to bring a lot’s of wet wipes, tissues, hand sanitizer, bug spray etc. Just keep ‘em all hidden in the bottom of that worn out bag you brought. So get your vaccinations, bring your camera and have fun.

Modern Miniaturism

No TV and no radio, but thanks to this little iPod dock we have a volume of music here that just thirty years ago would have required a dozen or more burros, llamas, or strong backed Sherpas to carry behind us as we travel the island.

Paradise Home Dreams

Today was the day we hiked up the hill to check on the condition of our friend’s condo. It was a dreaded but necessary part of the trip. First a little background: The couple we’re traveling with, who introduced us to this little bit of paradise purchased a condo on the island a few years ago, but because the builder left the building unfinished and in legal limbo, our good friends and several other people are now left holding the bag. The “bag” being a beautiful four story condo building atop a vista overlooking the Caribbean Sea that stands only three stories tall. Even though the third story which they own was finished, and completely furnished they cannot occupy it and had to leave it last year in hopes that a locked door so far from home would be respected in their absence.

They were welcomed back to their paradise home dreams by a kicked in entry door. Inside, all the appliances were gone, all the furniture was gone, various hardware and most of the window coverings were also taken. Only the light fixtures remained. They walked away disappointed, but not surprised, and plan to do their best to enjoy the rest of the trip, and fight this battle another day. I don't think I could go through what they went through today and remain as cool as they have. Let's just hope that what goes around comes around... and soon.

Bob’s Guess Where I Am Game™

That’s right, I haven’t mentioned where I am yet. I figured I’d leave my little audience hanging for awhile. Not little individually, except for maybe Pam ;) who is probably the biggest reader of this nutty little blog. Does shorter in height mean longer in attention span?  …or as Einstein would say: A/h = H/a ² …If you said Ah ha! You get it. And remember Pam, if you were a Starbuck’s drink you’d be called a “tall” size. Okay enough coconut rum induced tall/small self amusement …on with the clue:

We’ve been to Jamaica and the Bahamas’ but we’ve never been here. Yesterday I heard it said of the island, “It’s a sunny place for shady people.”

Rain in Paradise

Did I mention that it rained yesterday here on the island? Well I found out today from the locals that it rained alot, even by tropical island standards. When we ventured out this morning we found that the town's main road had been washed out in three places, and the power was knocked out. The town celebrity was an unlucky gentleman who runs a dive shop. You’ll find a photo of his SUV over on the daily photo page today. He parked where you see his vehicle in the photo, except a few feet higher, and went out to try to recover his boat which had been swamped in the storm. While he was away, rain water rushing down the hills took out the road right out from under his parking place. Luckily Mr. Unlucky did manage to recover his boat, and eventually his Jeep, and the rains have since subsided. The sun is out now, and it’s beginning to look like the paradise that we were promised.

Sunblock Rationing

We were told to pack shorts, tank tops, swim suits, flip-flops, and plenty of bug spray and sunblock for our stay here on the island. So far none of these items have been of any use. Rain gear, umbrellas, and rubber boots would be helpful, but without them we’re doing our best to avoid the wrath of three straight days of torrential rain by running from condo to bar to bar to store to bar, and back again. The normally glass smooth surface of Half Moon Bay looks like a surfer’s paradise, as breaking waves re-landscape the pristine snorkeling grounds below. Tomorrow I might stuff my laptop into a plastic bag and venture out in search of a wi-fi connection. The storm is expected to last three more days we’re told, so I guess I’ll put the cap back on the sunblock for now.

Crosstown Snowball Fight

It was late one Saturday night in the winter of 1973 when two of my fellow fourteen year old comrades and I exited the Roxy Movie Theater in Downtown Tacoma. During the movie the city had been blanketed with several inches of heavy wet snow. As the other theater goers headed for their cars we trudged to the bus stop and waited for our ride as the last of the downtown traffic cleared out of the area. We stood there looking down the road as the dark tire tracks turned to white, and then through the swirling flakes came the big green city bus that would take us home. Slipping around corners and down hills the driver struggled to get us out of the empty business district, and after a few detours finally got us into the more residential north end of town. Suddenly the city was alive with kids out in the snow, and more suddenly WHAPP! A snowball slammed into the windshield of the bus, and after a few expletives from the driver more started hitting the sides. My friends and I opened a side window and several snowballs flew inside the bus. We pressed together what snow we could retrieve and returned fire. Then we opened more windows to collect more incoming ammunition. Instead of yelling at us to knock it off as you might expect, the driver encouraged us defend the bus. With most of the windows now open we were pulling snow in from the roof of the bus, and snowballs were flying into, and out of the bus. After clearing the gauntlet we continued to fire snowballs at unsuspecting victims along the way until at one turn the bus slid sideways, jumped the curb, and crashed into a metal but stop sign. The driver maneuvered the bus back onto the road as we closed up all the window, thus ending our night assault on the city. That was probably my last true Norman Rockwell winter. I hope we weren’t the ones who ruined it for everyone, but kids just can’t have fun like that anymore.

(With a little editing and re-writing I might be able to make this post into a decent little story, but that’s part of the charm of a “daily” blog. Editing is fast and minimal. Besides I’m on vacation right now. In fact if it wasn’t raining this story probably would have ended before the movie got out.)

Time Flies (but not on airplanes)

Albert Einstein concluded that the faster you travel the slower time goes, which leads me to believe that the airliner I’m on must have really been haulin’ ass!
...Are we there yet?

Breaking News:

There once was a man from Nantucket,

Who’s wife…  

“We interrupt today's Daily Note to bring you this special news bulletin: Due to the low brow, crass, and worst of all unoriginal content of yesterday’s post there will be no more Note writing allowed after 11:00 PM (PST.) All of us here at The Daily Notes Project would like to sincerely apologize for this unfortunate situation, and we assure you that heads will roll. As we reorganize in the coming weeks, you may notice some intermittent posting gaps in your local service area. Please be assured however that Note writing will continue on a daily basis, even if real-time postings are occasionally delayed. This concludes our special news bulletin. We now return you to your regularly scheduled prog..."

"What? We don't have enough time? Ten seconds?" 9...8...7...
“Wait there's another breaking news story coming in! Apparently something is happening in Egypt. According to our sources Hosni Mubar...” 2...1... ucket.

“Roll the credits”

The Daily Notes Project

Producer – Randy Johnson

Executive Producer – Randy Johnson

Director – Randy Johnson

Cast:

R.J. Moody – Randy Johnson

Randy Johnson – Himself

Crew:

Head Writer – Randy Johnson

Comedy Writer – position available

Quality Control Supervisor – position available

Stunt Coordinator – Randy Johnson

Hairstylist – Chong’s $8.00 Cuts

●

Mr. Johnson’s wardrobe is provided by Garanimals®
  

Almost Midnight

The day’s gotten away from me and I haven't written anything yet, so I’ll be quick, and just tell you a bad joke I thought up earlier today after hearing one of those Viagra type ads with the four hour erection warning:

They call it priapism, but wouldn’t it be easier just to call it a hard attack?

Now it's even closer to midnight and unfortunately I have to add this edit: I just googled "hard attack" to make sure the joke was original and found the term already listed in the "urban dictionary." Damn, my first day as a joke writer and I've already been fired (Maybe I should change the name of this post to “Shortest Career Ever.”)

Horse and Goat

Today I saw a goat

That was sitting on a horse

And that looked pretty strange of course,  

A goat upon a horse

I had to wonder why

Why that mighty equine beast

Unless of course it was deceased

Did not care in the least

And so I parked my truck

On the shoulder of the road

Then over to the fence I strode

To see this goat’s abode

My eyes had not deceived

It was really quite a sight

A horse and goat that seemed so tight

And both so darned polite

So I took some photos

Of the horse beneath the goat

A horse that had a friend to tote

And then this poem I wrote

(Photo posted on Daily Photo Project blog - Feb. 9, 2011)

Truth, Lies, and Mumbles

Well it’s been awhile since I’ve given out any relationship advice, so you might want to turn off the TV set, shush everyone in the house, and pay special attention.

When you boil it right down, everything you can possibly say to your spouse, or significant other can be separated into just two categories: 1.) the truth, or 2.) a lie. While we all know that mixing these two is fraught with danger, most of us attempt it anyway. So like a Wild West stagecoach filled with nitroglycerin crossing the Rocky Mountains with one square wheel we forge ahead, and act surprised every time we get blown to smithereens. Well now with the help of my patented new third category you can trade in that square wheel for another round one, or at least an oval one. Now instead of being forced to choose between a truth and I lie, you can opt for a mumble®.

Please allow me to demonstrate: After an hour of getting ready to go out dancing, my wife walks up (hypothetically of course) and asks “Does this dress make my butt look big?” “It looks great on you dear,” I say “but it does looks a little rumpy.” I just told the truth, but because I’m an accomplished mumbler, what she heard was “Looks great …but it looks a little rumpley.” So she happily goes to iron it and returns ten minutes later. “Is this better?” she asks. “Yes” I say “it’s not rumpley at all now” and off we go, with no explosions.

My patented mumble® system can also help you communicate with all the other important people in your life. Just sign up for my free seminar today and soon you’ll be able to make your boss think you just called his fat ass inane idea fascinating. That’s right, with a little training you can say what you really think, and still get that promotion you’ve always wanted. Buy my 2-CD set and you’ll learn how to mumble breast into best, and buttocks into botox. You’ll learn when to say “big as sole” and “each hit” with satisfying results, so order today, before that next visit from your mother in law. You’ll be glad you did.

Two words:

 

Superb Bowl
   

Super Sunday

“Are you ready for some football? ...ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?” Okay, okay, I’m getting ready. We’re heading over to a good friends annual Super Bowl party today, so it’s time to catch the fever …or fake the symptoms.

Jeannie’s in the kitchen making a double batch of her spicy Texas Star Dip, and some stuffed jalapenos. The coffee’s on and I made it back from the store just in time to turn on the pre-pre-pre-game show, and crank up the volume so we don’t miss a single nuanced word of that hypnotizing hyperbolic NFL hype. “ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?”

Maybe it’s because I waited until the last minute this year, or maybe it’s because I’m 2,000 miles from Green Bay, but I couldn’t find a single Cheese-Head® at the market this morning. How am I going to intimidate those annoying Steelers fans at the party if I’m not wearing cheese on my head? Well, don’t worry, the nice gal at the deli helped me come up with a great “plan B” and given the testosterone filled nature of America’s greatest game I think it's a winner. I bought myself a big pair of those Wisconsin Cheese Balls. Now, I’M READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL!!

Sit down for a minute will ya Egypt? ...we’re trying to watch a game here!

Oh yeah, I almost forgot my prediction:  Packers 35 - Steelers 10.

Numero XLV

I’m really trying hard get swept up in all the hype for tomorrow’s big Super Bowl game, but it’s just not happening this year. I’m not sure exactly why. I know I’m supposed to be excited. After all it’s Super Bow XLV, and of all the possible combinations of X’s and V’s, and L’s, and I’s and such, this is the first and last XLV we’re ever going to see. That alone should be reason enough to go make a dip or something. I mean what am I waiting for? …Super Bowl C to roll around?

Well, I guess I’ll go sleep on it. Maybe I’ll feel different in the morning. I have an avocado in the kitchen just in case, and I don’t usually drink beer on a Sunday, but who knows, once all that testosterone starts flowin’ on the big screen, maybe I’ll pop a top and become a Green Bay fan again.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot my prediction:  Packers 27 - Steelers 20

Moody’s Believe It or Not (vol. 1)

In an effort to declutter the local landscape a rural South Dakota county passed an ordinance forbidding all signage, except for state mandated directional and speed limit signs along a 97 mile stretch of Highway 212 between the towns of Newell and Dupree. Another county ordinance however made it impossible to enforce the roadside sign ban unless a notice of the ban was posted every 200 yards for the length of the sign free zone. Officials quickly got to work and ordered 854 aluminum signs proclaiming the ban at a cost of $20,496.42, along with 854 sign posts at a cost of $3,843.05, and paid a local fencing company $16,087.71 to install them. Upon completing the project it was determined that the ban was legally in effect only on the south side of the highway where the signs had been posted because they only faced people traveling from west to east, and could not easily be seen by people traveling from east to west. Three months and an additional $40,427.18 later the ban was in full force.

Now nearly a year after the ban's implementation a former employee of the fencing company has reported that several extra signs and posts were left over and eventually discarded, and that due to an equipment malfunction all the signs had inadvertently been placed 206 yards apart instead of the required minimum spacing of 200 yards, making the sign ban unenforceable. The county council is scheduled to take up the matter next week. Believe It or Not!

Strange Awakening (pages 1-3)

It always takes an extra moment or two to orient yourself when you wake up in a strange place, like in a hotel room along the highway, or a cabin on the beach, or a tent by a mountain lake. Then after a few unfamiliar seconds you remember crawling under the covers, or into your sleeping bag the night before. Ah yes, it’s good to be away. Enjoy it. You’ll be home soon enough.

Today Phillip’s morning began with the first streaking lights of dawn refracting through a crystal window in the top of an egg-white dome about six feet above his head. He awoke lying on his back looking for a familiar ceiling, but instead saw only a pinkish-blue sky through the clear round window. As he continued to look up, the window wavered around unsteadily in the top of the dome. He tried to remember going to sleep, but those first unfamiliar seconds didn’t pass. He couldn’t remember the last time he laid down to sleep.

He sat up and looked to the curved wall which seemed to surround him, but the window moved down exactly as he looked down. It seemed to cut through the wall, and the wall appeared to heal immediately behind it. He found that he couldn’t look directly at the inside of the strange room he had just awoken in because the window followed his gaze quickly and perfectly. As fast as he could turn his head the crystal would slice through the wall in front of him. Instead of seeing what he was inside of, all he could see was the outside world: black cliffs to one side, tall yellow grasses to the other, and beyond a down-sloping terrain of various small plants was a sea of grey-green water stretching to the horizon ahead.

Looking down, Phillip could see that he was sitting on a white floor in a small round cell about seven feet in diameter. The window waited at the base of the wall as he studied the floor, pressing against it with his hands. It felt warm and smooth and soft; soft like Jell-O, or the white of a hard boiled egg. He looked up and reached forward to press against the wall, but the window jumped up in front of his hand. Cool and hard and shifting as his eyes moved, it prevented him from touching the wall at first, but moving closer he found that he could reach the wall to either side of the window and observe peripherally that it was white like the floor, but any closer visual inspection seemed impossible.

The wall felt very firm to the touch, as opposed to the soft floor, but every bit as smooth. The seam between the window and wall was also perfectly smooth. Phillip passed his hand back and forth between the two and only the temperature difference indicated a change in surfaces. He soon learned however that keeping his hands off the wall entirely would serve him best. His first lesson came as he tried to stand up on the soft floor by using his hands to steady himself against the wall. A simple glance in the wrong direction caused the window to jerk his hands aside and sent him tumbling back to the floor. The second lesson came moments later when he thought he saw something move in the tall yellow grass outside. As his eyes darted toward it, the crystal window quickly slid under his palm leaving a painful friction burn.

Shaking off his stinging hand Phillip refocused on the area of the grass outside where he thought he saw movement. Maybe it was just a breeze he thought. Then as he studied the distant patch of yellow the round white thing that contained him began to move. At first it tipped forward and lurched ahead a few feet. Then it steadied itself and seemed to drive along toward whatever Phillip was focusing on. Studying the terrain to his left and right and back again, he was soon zigzagging toward the grassy field ahead.

Gaining perspective as he moved, Phillip guessed that the floor he was now kneeling on was riding about two feet above the ground, at speeds ranging from a brisk jog to a world class sprint. He also noticed that the Jello-O like floor made an excellent shock absorber, as he bounced over rocks and bumps along the way. Then as the grass grew closer and taller Phillip suddenly realized that he no longer had any idea where the movement, or imagined movement that sent him bounding off in this direction had originated from. At that realization, the strange white thing turned vehicle slowly coasted to a stop, leaving Phillip submerged in a sea of tall yellow grass, that he could not see above.

To be continued:

Humor - Now in prescription strength

I may still have a lot to learn about this aging thing but I do know this: The most important thing to pack for that trip down the golden path is a good sense of humor …’cause nature’s little jokes are waiting around every turn.

Strange Awakening

It always takes an extra moment or two to orient yourself when you wake up in a strange place: like in a hotel room along the highway, or a cabin on the beach, or a tent by a lake. Then after a few unfamiliar seconds you remember crawling under the covers, or into your sleeping bag the night before. Ah yes, it’s good to be away. Enjoy it. You’ll be home soon enough.

Today Phillip’s morning began as the first streaking lights of dawn refracted through a crystal window in the top of an egg-white dome about six feet above his head. He awoke lying on his back looking for a familiar ceiling, but instead saw only a pinkish-blue sky through the clear round window. As he continued to look up, the window wavered around unsteadily at the top of the dome. He tried to remember going to sleep, but those first unfamiliar seconds didn’t pass. He couldn’t remember the last time he laid down to sleep.

He sat up and looked to the curved wall which seemed to surround him but the window moved down exactly as he looked down. It seemed to cut through the wall, as the wall healed immediately behind it. He found he couldn’t look directly at the inside of the strange room he had just awoken in, because the window followed his gaze quickly and perfectly. As fast as he could turn his head the crystal would slice through the wall.  Instead of seeing what he was inside of, all he could see was the outside world: black cliffs to one side, tall yellow grass to the other, and beyond a down-sloping terrain of various small plants, was a sea of grey-green water stretching to the horizon ahead.

Looking down, Phillip could see that he was sitting on a white floor in a small round cell, about seven feet in diameter. The window waited at the base of the wall as he studied the floor, pressing against it with his hands. It felt warm and smooth and soft; soft like Jell-O, or the white of a hard boiled egg. He looked up and reached forward to press against the wall, but the window jumped up in front of his hand. Cool and hard and shifting as his eyes moved, it prevented him from touching the wall at first...

To be continued:

Breathe

  

“It’s only after your conscience surfaces
  that your soul can breathe.”  
   ~ Randy Johnson

 

Inside Conversation

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Trying to write.”

“Write what?”

“I don’t know yet. I just sat down, but I gotta come up with something to keep my New Year’s resolution going.”

“Got any Ideas?”

“Nope… nothin’ yet.”

“What did you write yesterday?”

“I wrote a poem called Modern Monsters, about the evil nature of television sets.”

“Television sets are monsters now?”

“Yeah, but here’s the good part… I wrote it in the form of a classic Shakespearean sonnet.”

“And you wonder why people think you’re weird… So what are you typing now?”

“This.”

“This what?”

"This conversation.”

“Isn’t that cheating? That’s not writing. That’s transcribing.”

“If you were real it would be transcribing, but you’re just a voice on my head so it’s writing.”

“Oh, that’s how it works?”

“Yeah, that’s how it works.”

“So I carry half the conversation, and you get all the credit.”

“Something like that.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!”

“Sorry, that’s just the way it goes.”

“I’m leaving then.”

“Where do you think you can go?”

“I’m going back in your head, and shuting up. Then who’s going to help you.”

“Go ahead, I’m done. You can go shut up anytime. In fact, the sooner the better.”

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Arguing with you!”

"Whoa, easy does it… I just got here. You must have been arguing with Paul."

“Who?”

“Paul. I just passed him in the hallway, and he looked a little ticked. So, what are you doing”

“Clicking the PUBLISH POST button.”

“Oh, so you don’t need me then?”

“Nope” …click

“Should I check back tomorrow?”

Modern Monsters

The monsters crouch with backs against the walls,

To cast their evil glow into our rooms.

They seek a dark conversion of us all,

To guide us each unknowing to our doom.

The years have seen them grow grotesque in size,

And booming are their screeches, cries, and wails.

They seek to hypnotize and feed us lies,

And mollify us with their tempting tales,

Convince us there is treasure where there’s none,

And pull us from our work and learning quest.

The monsters smile and urge come join the fun,

Turn off our minds and do as they suggest.

But in my monster’s face I dare to scoff.

I pick up the remote and click him off!
  

Cracker Jack®

“Candy-coated popcorn, peanuts, and a prize
...that's what you get in Cracker Jacks!”

I think that was the first contract I ever entered into that went badly. Today I would probably have to sue for breach of implied happiness, pain and suffering, emotional distress, and of course actual tangible losses, plus punitive damages. But on that particular April afternoon forty-eight years ago, when I poured out the last of my candy coated popcorn and a peanut or two, and no prize came out, all I could do was stare into the bottom of the box in shock and disbelief. There was no lip-smacking', whip-crackin', paddywhackin', knickaknackin', silabawhackin', scalawhackin', crackerjackin' going on for this toy deprived kid. But despite my long gloomy walk home from the park, there was no call to a lawyer... because in those days we knew how to suck it up accept disappointment. 


  

Cursing Hitler

House lights and street flickered and dimmed,
As a din of sirens flooded through the streets
Like ice cold blood rushing down from the hills.
Soon every light went black, and every sound went silent,
And every breath was held, and every hand was clenched.
Even the iron hands of the old town clock seemed too afraid to move.

Here time stood still, and the people of a city stood frozen.
But on this night instead of the hum of airplanes approaching
The coarse scratch of a wood match against a concrete wall broke the silence,
And the flickering face of a tired old man lit the night.
Time moved for him alone as he inhaled from his pipe, and dropped the match.
Pushing through the stillness he opened a door, and stepped into the street.

“I’m sick of your bloody goddamned war” he cursed.
Then he looked up, still puffing his tobacco,
And dared the sky to answer him.
Standing alone in the glow of his pipe,
He waited, unwavering,
For an answer to come.


   

Attitude Change Redux

Today I found myself on the corner of Blissful and Jolly
leaning against a peppermint light post,

and sipping a hot cuppa coffee

when the bus back to Shitsville pulled up.

“You getting’ on or not?” yelled the driver.

“No, I don’t like submarines” I yelled back.

“Are you mad?” he asked.

“Not anymore” I said.
“You know this is the last bus out tonight …Right?”

“If you say so Captain.”

“It’s freezing and it’s gonna get colder so you should probably…”

“That’s okay these coffees are keeping me warm” I said.

“…no, I was gonna say you should probably stop licking that light post.”

“You’re probably right …too much sugar isn’t good for a person.”

“You sure you don’t need a ride?

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Suit yourself” he said.

Then he closed the door,
and the submarine dove beneath the pavement.

I watched as the periscope entered traffic and headed up the street.

He took a left at the light, and I took a right back into O’Malley’s

for another cuppa their wonderful coffee.

Yes, Irish Coffee.
How did you know?

In Conclusion

As it turned out that beef jerky I found lurking in the nether regions of our kitchen cupboard last Friday was mine all along. Yep, my wife ruined the fun today by informing me that she had stuffed all my Christmas Stocking snacks and candies down there, and didn’t quite get it all out when the time came to stuff the old man’s sock. I know, I know, I was thinking the same thing …That sure takes the thrill out of stealing it and running off to stash it like a crazed squirrel with a forbidden walnut.

Oh well, some days are like that. Yesterday I'm a pirate with a hidden treasure, and today I’m just a Schmuck with a cardboard sword and a homemade eye patch. This beef jerky doesn’t even taste good anymore. …I think I’ll go pillage the cookie jar.

Stubborn Time

The thing about writing in this blog everyday is that most items that “make the post” would normally have been tossed into the trash (or at least set aside for some nifty editing,) and deservedly so (this desperate post for example, and many more to come,) but the vast majority of things written here would have never been written at all if not for the stubbornness to keep this goofy New Years Resolution going. So maybe just maybe if I remain stubborn long enough something creative will get written because I was right here typing instead of over there watching TV, but not today ...Oh gosh no, not today. I’m just here doing time here (stubborn time,) and my ten minutes are just about up.

Youth is but a Kodak Moment

I can be a young person in an old photo,

or an old person in a young photo,

but I can no longer be a young person in a young photo.

~

It came to me with some surprise,

And even brought some heavy sighs,

Today when I did realize,

The rule above to me applies.

I don’t know when it happened,

But it happened all the same.

What I once was, I am no more,

Within a picture frame.

It must have been that Kodak paper,

To have caused a thing so strange.

All I know is that my photos,

Underwent a frightening change.

 

Superstition

It you’re superstitious you have to stay real alert all the time, and you have to know all the technical superstition rules, like “is a baker’s dozen good or bad?” And it helps to know things like “if a black cat crosses your path in front of you, you still have time to change directions, but if it crosses behind you you’re fate is sealed" (so don’t ever look back!)

Some situations are harder to figure out, like the other day when I walked under a ladder and immediately wondered, “can I back out of this situation, or would that only make things twice as bad?” Then the other day I accidentally broke a mirror and I thought “Oh no, seven years bad luck!” But then I thought “Wait a minute ...what I actually broke was a medicine cabinet. Maybe that’s a loophole.”

I know, both those things didn’t really happen the other day, but I like to say “the other day” because that way you can never be pinned down on specifics. I would make a terrible witness in a courtroom situation, but keeping it vague is a good policy if you don’t want to get in trouble for something you might have done on a specific day.

“Was that Tuesday when you used my bathroom Randy?”

“No, it was the other day …and I don’t know nothin’ about your broken medicine cabinet!”

And for the record America, I wasn’t trying to snoop in that medicine cabinet. I was just trying to point the mirrors so I could see a whole bunch of me going in both directions. By the way some people have way too many prescriptions in their medicine cabinets. Unfortunately we've become a drug happy country. We need to dial it back a little folks. I like the old adage “An apple a day keeps the doctor away,” but actually any similar sized object when thrown correctly can repel a doctor. Apple growers don’t want you to know it, but I’ll tell you “a rock a day” works just as well (probably better!)

Well that’s all I’ve got for now. Be healthy, don’t step on any cracks, and don’t throw rocks at doctors in glass houses, but if you do watch out for the mirrors. Good luck everyone!

Beef Jerky

As some of you may know, I’ve been living as a quasi vegetarian for almost a year now, eating primarily vegetable, fungus, and fish matter with feigned enthusiasm to support my wife’s new “let’s see how old we can grow” healthy lifestyle strategy. Well today I was in the kitchen searching the lower cabinet’s snack selection of sweet-potato chips, dried fruit chunks, bulk granola, raw almonds, yogurt raisins, etc. when way in the back, behind the natural sea salt chips I spotted a bag of beef jerky ...beef jerky? Wholly smokes! My head went on a swivel to make sure I was alone. My heart started pounding. I suddenly felt flush. "Beef jerky, how long have you been back there little guy?”

Okay, I had to act fast. Luckily we men are always in touch with our lizard brain, and though dormant for much of my adult life I found out today that my primal instincts have remained razor sharp! I immediately remembered being in a very similar situation at one other time in my life, and just like that day long ago when I was only twelve years old, I grabbed the dirty magazine, er I mean the beef jerky, and ran to hide it in a place where only I would have access to it, and I’m sure I’ll be going back there often to retrieve it in the coming days. In fact I feel like going back there right now just to look at it.

Just knowing it’s there gives me a warm feeling inside. Umm, let’s just keep this our little secret …okay?

The Vanishing Habitat of the American Voting Booth

At the risk of sounding nostalgic, I can still recall the days when voting booths roamed free across our great land, from the Eastern shores, through the Central plains, over the Western mountains, to Washington State, and beyond. I remember when volunteers would herd those early species, like great gray mastodons into school auditoriums, and various community centers on Election Day. I can still see my neighbors lining up to visit the armor-skinned behemoths, and I can still see the docile gray creatures waiting patiently for each citizen to cast his or her ballot. I can still hear the levers flipping, as votes mechanically clank into place. But most of all I can still see and hear those curtains close and open as the biggest and seemingly most important handle on the old machines were pulled, and pulled again. One by one citizens were swallowed up and then released by the gentle giants, and what happened behind the curtain was known only to the voter, and to the now extinct metal beast.

Just for the record, I live in the last county in Washington State that still lets you vote at a polling place. All other counties have gone to mail-in voting only. I do not like mail-in voting. I do not like it one bit …but soon I will have to adapt, or like the poor fellows above face extinction.

Attitude Change

Today I found myself on the corner of Damn it and Crap,
trying to catch the first bus out of Shitsville,
but wouldn’t you know it I didn’t have the correct change!

And the moral of my little story is:

If you want to get to a happier place,

you’re the one who needs to make the change.

No one else is gonna make it for you.

J. of W.W.J.D. Fame

 
Today's Thought for Christians:

I hear a lot of people asking “What would Jesus do?”

but I don’t see very many people actually doing it.

 ~

Today's Thought for Christians was sponsored by:

Jesus the Movie

The ultimate my dad can beat up your dad story

   

Na na na, na na na, na na na na na na naaa... ♫♪ The Day Chicago Tried ♫♪

In the interest of toning down the violent rhetoric, and as an olive branch to Sarah Palin, the word “died: has been removed and replaced with the word “tried” in the sappy parody below. That’s right the parody that was obsolete before it was even complete:  “The Day Chicago Tried”  

Your turn Sarah.

Anyone Need an Unused Parody?

Hey Green Bay Packer fans, if you're looking for a song about kicking some Chicago butt I'll sell you this one real cheap. It turns out that Seattle won't be needing it:

The Day Chicago Tried ♪♫

(sing to the tune of: The Night Chicago …passed away, kicked the bucket, met its maker, ceased to breath, D.i.e.d.)

In the chill of a winter morn
In the land of the dollar bill
When the town of Chicago tried
And they talk about it still

When the town of Al Capone
With their fingers made of foam
And a lot of empty talk
Met the forces of the Hawks

♪♫

I heard Jay Cutler cry
He blew the play the day Chicago tried
Brother what a sight it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be

I heard Coach Lovie cry
I heard him pray the day Chicago tried
Brother what a sight it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Yes indeed

And the sound of the battle rang
Through the seats over Soldier Field
'Til the last of the whooped Bears gang
to the Seahawks had to yield

There was shouting in the street
And the sound of running feet
And I asked someone who said
That the Hawks got in their heads

♪♫

I heard Jay Cutler cry
I heard him pray the day Chicago tried
Brother what a sight it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be

I heard Coach Lovie cry
He called the plays the day Chicago tried
Brother what a sight it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Yes indeed

And there was no sound at all
But the clock upon the wall …tick, tock, tock, tock,
Then the door burst open wide
And Pete Carroll stepped inside
And he kissed Seattle’s face
And the Bears left in disgrace

♪♫

The day Chicago tried
The day Chicago tried
Brother what a sight the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!