WHY GET UP?

During the week and it comes 7:00 am and all I can think is “God I wish I could sleep another hour”.

And then the weekend, and 7:00 am comes, and all I can think is “God I wish I could sleep another hour”.

COMING SOON

‘An era can be said to end when its basic illusions are exhausted.’ –Arthur Miller

MEDAL OF COURAGE

Chinese crayfish rips off own claw in effort to escape boiling pot, receives honorable Medal of Courage. His owner, Chef Jiuang Xi, has given him a place in his own home, and named him Dennis Rodman.

FIRST SNOW

FIRST SNOW

The snow
began here
this morning and all day
continued, its white
rhetoric everywhere
calling us back to why, how,
whence such beauty and what
the meaning; such
an oracular fever! flowing
past windows, an energy it seemed
would never ebb, never settle
less than lovely! and only now,
deep into night,
it has finally ended.
The silence
is immense,
and the heavens still hold
a million candles, nowhere
the familiar things:
stars, the moon,
the darkness we expect
and nightly turn from. Trees
glitter like castles
of ribbons, the broad fields
smolder with light, a passing
creekbed lies
heaped with shining hills;
and though the questions
that have assailed us all day
remain — not a single
answer has been found —
walking out now
into the silence and the light
under the trees,
and through the fields,
feels like one.


Mary Oliver

THAT RABBIT COAT

I was standing in the smoking area when suddenly this white rabbit coat appeared next to me. I'd seen her around, but hadnt met her. I took a deep draw of smoke, blew a single ring, slowly exhaled, watched the remaining fog catch the wind.
She pulled a cigarette out of her bag, twirled it twice and placed it between those red lips. I kept my gaze straight ahead. A long moment passed.
"Arent you going to light my cigarette?" she asked.
"Oh, but of course, pardon me"
My lighter worked.
I'm not sure if we were both just shy or if we were both just really cool, but we stood there wordless and smoked.
I reached the end of mine, and flipped it away. Thats the part of smoking I miss the most now, flipping the butt away.
I flipped it away and asked "So, are you going to be at Jack In The Box tonight?
"Probably not" she said, and smiled.
"Yeah, me either" I said, gave her my best grin, walked away, wondering what her name was.
Later that night I grabbed a six pack of Old Milwaukee and headed to the Box. It took two passes to find that rabbit coat.
It was hard to miss. A great start to a wonderful friendship.

MAYBE EVEN A MILE

The election results are in and we can’t wait to see what you have to say about it. We are looking for inspiration, and really dont care where it comes from.
We pulled up to the poling place yesterday and found that we had to run a gauntlet of Red State campaigners, including the Nimrod who was seeking re-election as a State Representative. He is not exactly someone I care for. He voted against providing breakfast for low income kids, a measure which PASSED because the state legislature is not all the way full on idiots like him.
He also voted YES to test folks for drug use prior to receiving unemployment benefits. This may sound great at first blush, but as a recovering addict, we see problems innumerable with this kind of legislation. If we had a dollar for every drug test we passed in our using days we could score an 8 Ball. What about hurt people that have lost their job and take pain meds?  And what about alcohol? Weak, ineffective legislation that could punish those that need some help the most.

Anyway, he and his posse of Hombres were the last people we wanted to see as we entered the polling place. We walked briskly, kept our eyes straight ahead. We thought we had made it when a woman from behind asked:
"Are you planning to vote today?"
Well, duh, but we just kept walking. We were ten feet past when we heard the Nimrod say "I hope you can count on my vote". We may have missed half a step as we fought the urge to turn around and tell him what we really thought.
I'm pretty sure the whole gaggle of them knew they could not count on my vote.

So I marched my ass in, and for the first time ever cast a ballot for a Mid-Term election.
And for the first time I cast a straight party ballot. I hope I never have to do that again.
Our guy lost.
Our guy lost but we are very pleased to see that our county voted for the Democratic candidate for senator, the first time they have done that in many years, and statewide gave Cruz a run for the money. 
Many people in our county are as filled with horror over the behavior of Trump as us. The true lesson may be that despising this president and his synchophant Cruz, although understandable, is insufficient. 

The campaigners were still out there when we got through. Again, we walked by them briskly, avoiding eye contact. No one said a word. We would have liked to have given Nimrod a piece of our mind, but we were not in the right mood for it. We would have told him to go fuck himself.

We felt relieved that the campaigners cant get within 100 feet of the polls.
They need to change that.
A half mile would be much better. 
Maybe even a mile.

NIGHT SHIFT

There is something about the deep night that releases a different you. Its more your own street, your own city, your own world, and you are both more and less in charge of it at 3 A.M. than in the daylight.

Bulletholes, 7/2011

Image~ Patrick Joust

JURY DUTY

A few years ago I got called up for jury duty. I got down there and they had this list of disqualifiers. There were about 3 things on the list to disqualify me. I had to stand before the judge and tell him about these 3 things from my checkered past. I was very disappointed. I had hoped to be able to serve.

The judge looked at me and said “But you are doing well now, yes?”
“Yes your honor”
“Well, get your butt over there. We need jurors that are doing well.”

SCARECROW

Once I said to a scarecrow, “You must be tired of standing in this

lonely field.”

And he said, “The joy of scaring is a deep and lasting one, and I

never tire of it.”

Said I, after a minute of thought, “It is true; for I too have

known that joy.”

Said he, “Only those who are stuffed with straw can know it.”

Then I left him, not knowing whether he had complimented or belittled me.

A year passed, during which the scarecrow turned philosopher.

And when I passed by him again I saw two crows building a nest

under his hat.

Khalil Gibran