The Envy of All Squirrels

            “I’m the envy of all squirrels,” I said while holding a big bag of sunflower seeds.

            It was such a nice day today I thought it a good idea to cook outside and barbeque. I bought range fed chicken, marinated pork chops, corn on the cob, and some zucchini.

            “Is that carne asada?” my friend asked.

            “No, those are Jewish pork chops.”

            “Really?”

            She should have known better.  She’s Jewish.

            She and I take great pleasure in tricking each other. It’s a game we play. She’s a lot better at it than I am. I’d say the ratio is three to one in her favor.

            “No, not really,” I finally admitted. “There’s no such thing as Jewish pork-chops.”

           

            

The Expletives

            It seems the great people in life die without much fanfare. I’m learning bass lines from old Motown tunes, and James Jamerson was a mother F-err. Pure genius. He was smooth and played with feeling and knowledge, a deadly combination. Jaco Pastorius was the same, but with Jaco you had the added element of fearlessness. Mike Bloomfield was a great guitar player. I don’t remember any news releases or media coverage when he died. I read about Jaco’s death in Rolling Stone Magazine, there was a small blurb announcing his death. I was devastated. James Jamerson died here in Los Angeles, but they shipped him back to Michigan when it was all said and done. It’s strange when you think about James Jamerson. He brought so much happiness to the world and nobody even knows who he is. He probably wasn’t even paid right when he was alive. I guess you got give what you've got before you go, you can’t worry about the expletives. 

The Walk and The Wind

I thought I’d take a walk. It’s a windy day here in Los Angeles. I’m trying to exercise for twenty minutes a day. I haven’t been very consistent. I walked down a steep hill and then up a even steeper hill on a dirt path to get a view of the city. If you live long enough you’ll see the wind blow in every direction. I think I’ve lived long enough, but I’m not sure.

I almost passed out from exhaustion when I got to the top of the hill. I was the one winded this time. The sun started to beat down some. My body was tight all over, and I started to slow down. I was walking up hill again, and I was getting thirsty. The terrain finally leveled off and I saw some kids seating at a table. I heard one kid say “lemon aid for sale,” and I thought oh no. I tensed up with thought of having to walk by them. An awkward feeling overcame me. I made up an excuse in my mind for not buying any. But as I got nearer the kids got more excited with the prospects of a sale.

            “Lemon aid for sale. Would you like some lemon aid?”

            “Oh no thank you…okay.”

            “It’s fifty cents!”

            I dug into my pocket and forked over the money. 

            “Would like ice with your lemon aid?”

            “Yes, that would be wonderful.”

            The kids were organized.

            “How about a orange wedge?”

            “Sure.”

            A little girl handed me a purple plastic cup of lemon aid. I took a sip.

            “Umm, delicious,” I said.

            “We squeezed the lemons from our tree and we made it ourselves, “ Another little girl said.

I stood off to the side and drank my lemon aid. I was still feeling a little awkward as I stood there. It’s was the perfect lemon aid and excellent recipe I might add. I said good-bye to the kids. The lemon aid was just what I needed. It was refreshing.