Update #3

What have I been doing you might ask?

Last night I received the gift of free drinks. The first one was good, but the last two or three were a mixed bag. I went from bourbon, to vodka, to rum twice. I broke my own rule by mixing drinks. I woke up with a weird taste in my mouth. I think it was the rum and coke.

            What else? I’m recording another song with Martin. It’s tentatively called, A Dust Covered Man. The title is a little much, kind of pretentious. I might drop the A, and just call it Dust Covered Man. It’s sounding pretty good. I leave my music to providence. I walked into the session not knowing what I was going to play. You kind of say a prayer at that point and hope for the best. As it turned out there were musical parts in me just waiting to come into the world. The creative experience is interesting that way, you fret, you worry, and it all turns out okay. 

            I’m trying to figure out how to make my own books. I want to take to the streets with them. If only I had a duplex printer, I’d print front and back at the same time. Kinko’s has them but I figured out I’d have to sell the books for the price of a steak dinner to make any money off of them. I made a jig from scrape wood to press the paper together and glue perfect bound covers on. I can’t wait to make my first book. I’m looking forward to it. That’s all for now, until next time.

The Interpreter

I was exiting the freeway. I was turning right and I had the inside position. There was a black mini van to the left of me and he was making a right turn as well. I saw him punch the gas and make his move, so I made mine. I sensed he was trying to scoot by me and snake my line in his rush. I felt myself tense up and my stubborn side kick in, the side of me that wants cooperation, justice and decency.

There was a merge to one line and I had inside position so I gave it the gas. The mini van had to hit the brakes.

Beep!

How annoying I thought. The snake was snaked and now he’s honking at me.

The line divided into a two line left turn. The black mini van pulled up beside me. His electric windows came down. I pulled back on the switch to my electric windows and they smoothly came down as well.

            “What?” I asked, throwing up my hands in an aggravated tone.

            There was a heavyset woman from somewhere south of the border in the passenger seat and a Chinese man at the wheel.

            The woman turned to the man and then to me.

            “He says you cut him off!” the woman said in a thick Spanish accent.

            “I had the inside line. I was just staying in my line!” I told the woman.

            The woman turned to the Chinese man. I could see him saying something to her. The woman turned back to me.

            “He says, you almost crashed into him!”

            “What do you want me to do, I had the right of way,” I said.

            This was a first. Road rage with a translator. The third person seemed to calm the situation down some. It was like having a mediator. I could see the anger on the Chinese mans face.

            “I don’t think so,” the woman said.

            “You don’t know nothing,” I said.

The traffic light turned green and we drove away. What a couple of morons I said to myself. Then it occurred to me that the heavyset woman spoke three languages and one of them was Chinese. 

Stroller

I don’t mean to be overly critical of baby strollers, but I’ve noticed that they’re much larger than they use to be.

I was walking on the sidewalk when a woman parted the way with a huge stroller. I stepped to the side and moved out of the way for fear of being run over, as did other pedestrians.

The stroller was wide and tall, and frankly I found it offensive, as did other pedestrians. I could see it on their faces as they rushed to move out of the way. If strollers get any larger we may have to register them with the Department of Motor Vehicles and put some turn signals on them and give them a distinctive sounding musical horn.

Strollers aren’t as large in the ghetto. Ghetto kids ride in cheap collapsible strollers that look like they can fold up on a kid at a moments notice. Their plastic wheels look vulnerable like they’re going to wobble off before the next curb, the next crossing.

The Hummer of a stroller I saw the other day had precision wheels, with spokes. You could pump air into the tires and shine up the sidewalls with Armor All. The mother pushing the stroller looked tired and embarrassed, but at the same time, she was forceful and indignant, as she pushed past the hipsters on Vermont boulevard.

The Combination

            I haven’t shaved in nearly a month, and my hair on my head has grown out some, and I’ve taken to wearing my aviator sunglasses over my prescription glasses. The sunglasses over the prescription glasses can be a strange look up close, but from a distance nobody can tell the difference.

            I’ve noticed in recent days that the ladies are responding to me in a manner that they haven’t in years. I can’t figure out if it’s the sunglasses, the hair, or the beard, but it’s something. I’m not complaining. I thought I had lost it, but it turns out I still have it, but I’m not sure what it is.

            I was at a restaurant the other day and a young woman sitting at a booth with her boyfriend started to sneak peeks at me. I was flattered, but at the same time careful not to upset her relationship. I wasn’t wearing the sunglasses then, so it had to be the beard or the hair. 

            I’m not writing this story to brag. It’s just that the reaction I’ve received from women in recent days has been different from what I’m used to.

            I was driving down the road and a hoochie-mama was walking on the sidewalk in the opposite direction when she spotted me. She was a borderline woman, I couldn’t tell if she was working or not. She looked at me and I looked at her, I was puzzled by her. I turned away out of fear, but for a moment we held an uncomfortable gaze. I think she liked me.

            There have been others. I’m big with women over sixty and Mexican women who drive late model mini vans. There was a woman at a gas station who couldn’t take her eyes off of me, that never happens at gas stations, and a thirty something Hispanic woman in a white Mercury.  Somehow the animal in me is exciting the animal in them.

            I’m going to have to shave the beard to find out if it’s the hair, or cut the hair, to find out if it’s the beard. I’d like to get to the bottom of this, but for now, it’s all about the combination.

            

Smell Them Out

            I went for a walk last night. I don’t usually walk that far, just far enough to breath some fresh air, and to change things up a bit.

I was walking on the sidewalk, deep in thought, when I heard a hissing sound. I stopped. There was a juvenile skunk in front of me with his tail up. I immediately turned right, and walked down a driveway to the street to avoid him.

Wow! That little thing is so powerful that I instantaneously cowered to him. Skunks aren’t life threatening, they’re not going to eat you, or inflict bodily harm, their weapon is to create a nuisance for you. That’s all they have, a nuisance, a stench, a smell. I got to thinking, we don’t need to kill people. We can stink them out. We can create a stench so bad that people will move away, abandon ship, run for their sanity and comfort.

After my walk I drove over to my lady friend’s house. I was sitting at a stoplight, when I saw a skunk running around on a little patch of grass. It was a busy street, and he was running to the edge of the sidewalk as if he was contemplating running into the street. I whistled at him. I was trying to get him to move away from the street. He had a reckless side to him I could tell. I don’t think he heard my whistle, but I tried. I drove off, and forgot about him.

Who would eat a skunk? Do they have any predators? I wondered. I did some research when I got to my lady friends. They do, some birds can’t smell, and coyotes when they’re good and hungry will eat them.

In the morning I drove the same route home. I came to the street where I saw the skunk the night before. I smelled something funny, not pleasant. I noticed a skunk tail sticking up from the pavement. The skunk was squished but the tail was present. That tail. It fights on even in death. I tried to warn him. He wouldn’t listen.

            I added the motor vehicle to the list of skunk predators and drove on. 

P Rant

Lets see, debt crisis, joke. Republicans, a joke that isn’t funny. Democrats, jokers who have no will power.

I’ve never seen it so bad. It’s to the point where all you have to do to change policy is to be stubborn and obstinate. The fine art of oratory has gone by the wayside, and has been replaced by down right lying and arrogance. People are fooled. They fall for half-truths and sound bites and call themselves educated.

I’m going to vote for that. And that has nothing to do with their lives, their pocket books, or religion. It’s packaged goods, so the super wealthy, the oligarchy, can manipulate the masses, which history has proven to be willing and able. It’s only when people figure out that they have no meaningful way to make a living that they become concerned. Then it’s revolution, and chaos, only to be replaced by new government and the status quo. 

It’s all about the status quo. The debt crisis debate has used up two months of good time, meanwhile, congress has come to a stand still and nothing else has been talked about or accomplished.

           Nobody's talking about that, but everybody’s talking about a procedural event, which is the equivalent of wiping ones ass after defecation. It’s something necessary, but not always pleasant.

Sun Burns and Bikini's

I took the lady friend to the beach for her birthday. El Matador State Beach north of Malibu. The day started off overcast, and when we got to the beach, there weren’t many people around. We found a nice spot away from the few people that who were there, and made camp. The sun burned through the clouds and next thing I knew it was a nice day to be at the beach.

            “Wow, this is great there’s know one here,” I said.

            We couldn’t believe it. We had the beach to ourselves. Then a chubby couple came wondering onto the beach. I saw them walking towards us from the distance, I didn’t think much about them, other than they were chubby. I got up to cool off in the water, and when I came back to our area I discovered the couple had set up camp right next to us. Odd, The beach is almost empty and they set up right next to us. It didn’t feel right. It was an invasion of space. Why so close I wondered.

            We had stopped at a store before hand and bought some snacks. I bought a Salami. I reached into my bag and pulled it out. I was sitting on my towel looking at the waves and munching on my Salami. A few more people arrived, and then another couple came strolling down the beach. I saw them turn toward us. They put their towels down next to us on the other side, to close for comfort. Why? It must be my lady friends ass that’s attracting them. It had to be her ass. That’s the only thing I could think of. Her bulbous bikini clad bottom.