The Impossible

      Not a lot to report. I didn't get out much this week. I've been introspective, and spending time alone. I'm working on a new song. I usually let the words to songs come naturally to me, but this song is different. It's pulling at me and I'm constantly looking for clues to the puzzle. I have the music. It's the words I'm after. It's always the words.
      The eclipse was the big news of the week. The birds, out of respect or fear, didn't make much of a peep when the moon was crossing the sun. I found that interesting. I believe birds know a lot more than we give them credit for. 
      A few nights ago I woke up at three in the morning. There was a mouse on my roof. I heard him scampering about. He was working real hard, back and forth he went. An owl was hooting in the distance. I got the feeling the owl was waiting for the mouse to make a mistake, to run out in the open. Somehow owls catch mice. It seems impossible, but they do. That makes me feel good in some way, that the impossible can happen. I know it's not impossible for an owl to catch a mouse, but the probability is not that good. At least in this instance it wasn't. 
      'It's impossible, to tell the sun to leave the sky, it's just impossible.'

The Theory

      You're surrounded by a pack of wolves in the forest. They're hungry, and you look like a lamb chop to them. You have a gun. It's a six-shooter. You count the wolves, there's more than six. What do you do?
      You figure out what wolf is the alpha and put a bullet in him. With any luck the surviving wolves will scatter and run away without a leader. Unless the alpha female steps up. Then the theory is in flux.
      A group of drunk guys at a bar start picking on you because you look funny. You can't help the way you look, but that's how it goes. There's four of them. You're not much of a fighter. You tried talking your way out of it, but they persist. What should you do?
      You go after the guy with biggest mouth. The guy who's doing the talking. Rather then fighting four guys, single one out, the leader. And when the leader goes down so does the group, so the theory states.
      This theory can be applied to dogs, not cats, bossy people you know, bossy people you don't know, retired Marine sergeants, certain bus drivers, a fair amount of chefs, model train engineers, circus clowns with attitudes, girlfriends named Johnny, boyfriends named Jill and U.S. Presidents born in Queens.
      I learned the theory from two different drunks on two different occasions. I'm thinking there's something to it. Give it a try and let me know how it works.
   
   
      

The Talking Frog

      I thought I'd share a joke this week instead of a blog. This comes from a wise man with tiny feet.
      
      An old man was walking down a dirt road when he heard someone say, "psst, hey buddy can you help me out?"
      The old man stopped, looked around, but he didn't see anyone so kept walking. 
      Then he heard the voice again. "Psst, hey buddy can you help me out?" 
      The old man stopped. He looked down and saw a frog sitting on the road.
       "Yeah, I'm a talking frog, but if you kiss me I'll turn into a beautiful princess with long silky hair, rose-petal skin, and an ass that won't quit. I'll cook for you, and clean for you, and tend to your every need. 
       The old man bent over and snatched the frog up off the ground, put him in his pocket, and took off walking.
       "Hey!!! You forgot to kiss me!!!" the frog said. 
       The old man stopped, reached into his pocket, grabbed the frog and looked him in the eyes, and said, "at my age it would be more interesting to have a talking frog."
    

Peaches And Plums

      I've gotten to the point in life where I'm not sure what to eat. I want to eat healthy, but sometimes I'll forget to eat altogether, only to realize I'm starving. Then, I'll eat any ol' thing just to get by.
      I make bad decisions when I'm hungry. Rather then cooking at home, I'll go out and find food on the streets, because in my hungry mind it takes too long to cook at home. So, I'll roll up to hamburger stand, or a burrito joint. I'll immediately regret it and think about cows and pesticides. I'll ask myself what the heck did I just eat? 
      It doesn't take much to cook. You just need to be prepared, and it's the being prepared part that I need to work on. I just don't know what to make anymore. Everything seems unhealthy. I know that's not true. Or maybe it is? Maybe everything is unhealthy, even kale. Kale could be unhealthy depending on where you get it. Thus, the dilemma. I don't trust the factory farm. I don't trust Whole Foods either. I trust a fruit stand at the local farmers market, but they don't grow kale. And I can't make a living off of peaches and plums. I'll starve to death. 

Careful What You Ass For

      

      I took it too far with the proprietor. He was in a foul mood and I pushed it knowing it was a bad idea. 

      He came to my table to take my order while I was reading the menu. He had pen in hand and was ready to write, when I turned to him and said, "do you have a menu in English?" His face went blank. Of course I was joking, but I get the feeling he's heard that before, that's what made it funny to me. The thought of some yahoo saying do you have a menu in English.

      The proprietor wasn't amused. When I finished my meal, and got up to pay we joked about it. I apologized for being a nuisance. "I can't help myself," I told him. He laughed. 
      That's the truth of it. I sometimes get joy from being an ass. It's hard to believe I know. 
       

Skunk!

   
      I was walking up the dirt path to my car in the dark and I just about walked into a skunk. I saw something turn and look at me and then hiss. I jumped back in a panic to get away from it. I had a feeling it was a skunk, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe it was a possum. There was only time enough to move away from it. 
      The skunk didn't even have time to turn around and spray me. I ran away. He ran away. We were both scared for different reasons. I gave the skunk time to get some distance and then made for my car. I saw him running down the street. He was still scared. I was lucky I didn't get sprayed.

The Trick

      

      On more than one occasion I've been woken from a deep sleep by the sound of a coyote killing its prey. Coyotes have different techniques for killing, but it's almost always based on deception. A coyote will figure out the habits of an animal. Raccoons walk the same trail at dusk; possums forage for food in the same general area.  

      The other night I heard a killing. A coyote and a possum. The coyote waited for the possum to make his rounds, and when the possum did, he snatched him up. He barely had to move. He was standing right there waiting for him.

      As killings go, it was peaceful, cooperative, and without much fuss. It felt like the animals were mindful that people were trying to sleep. 

      Nature is not without tragedy that's for sure. Survival by design is a trick. A rattlesnake is made to look like dirt and rocks.  

      And the spirit world seems is no different. It tricks and confuses just the same. You ask for one thing and you get something else, and then write it off as god's will. And then ask again for what you wanted in the first place. 

      Of course life's not always a trick, just once in a while. But those once-in-a-whiles can really mess up your day.