Sunday, November 22, 2020

WE WILL FIX IT

 

Gathered at ALIVE ON ALL CHANNELS

I am inside U Break It We Fix It holding my sons’ shattered iPad. “Hello,” I call out. No one answers. The counter glows white, and the walls are empty. “Hello? Hello?” I wait a few minutes before calling out again. “One minute,” says a raspy voice from the back of the store. Hope swells in my chest. Here We comes. We will fix it. A man in rumpled clothes emerges. I put the shattered iPad on the counter. “Don’t put it there,” We says. I quickly lift it off the counter. We sprays sanitizer on the spot I touched and wipes it dry with a paper towel. I hold up the broken screen so We can see It, and a little shard of glass drops to the floor with a plink. “Yeah, no,” We says. “Yeah no, what?” I ask. We says the soldering work required would cost more than a new iPad. We says it would take weeks. “Possibly months.” To be sure We asks me to read the serial number off the back of the iPad. I read the numbers, and We silently types them into a computer. “Yeah,” We says. “It isn’t worth it.” I just stand there. “But if I break It, it says We fix It.” I point to the sign that is the name of the store. Even if We has to send it far, far away. Even if it takes the handiwork of one hundred mothers with long white beards and God inside their fingertips, We should fix it. We promised. Even if all We ever do is just try to fix It, We should try. But the man is gone. He has already disappeared into the back of the store.

The next week, I return to U Break It We Fix It with a whole entire country. It’s heavy, but I manage to carry it through the parking lot leaving behind a trail of seeds and the crisp scent of democracy and something that smells like blood or dirt. Across it is a growing crack. A child, too young to be alone, is out in front holding a broken country, too. “Store’s gone out of business,” says the child. I shift the country to one arm and try to peer in, but it’s shuttered and dark. “Told you,” says the child. “Out of business.” I text my husband: “U Break It We Fix It is closed. I’ve come here for nothing … again.” When I look up the whole parking lot is full of children holding countries. “Is this U Break It We Fix It?” they ask. “It once was,” says the first child, “but now it’s closed.” The children hold their countries closer, like a doll or an animal. I want to drive them all home but they’re all holding countries and there are far too many of them. “I’m sorry,” I say too quietly for any of the children to hear. I don’t ask them where their mothers are or how they got here or how they will get home.

Instead I walk quickly back to my car. A little shard of glass falls out of my country with a plink. I pick the shard up and hold it to the sunlight. A rainbow, just for a second, falls over the children. Plink! Plink! Plink! Shards of glass are falling out of the children’s countries, too. It sounds like an ice storm, but the sky is blue and the children are dry as bones. I don’t want to stay to see what happens next. I drive away. I leave the children cradling their broken countries. I have no idea where any of them live, or how to fix anything, or what to do with this shard of glass. At a red light, I put the shard in the glove compartment and forget about it for days.

In Exodus, the first set of ten commandments (broken by Moses) is not buried but placed in the Aron Hakodesh (the holy ark) beside the new, unbroken tablets, which the Jews carry through the wilderness for forty years. I imagine the broken tablets leaning against the unbroken ones telling them secrets only broken things know. I imagine the weight of the broken tablets, and the heat, and the thirst, and the frustration. Why didn’t we just leave the broken tablets behind? What good is all this carrying?To know your history is to carry all your pieces, whole and shattered, through the wilderness. And feel their weight.

“Mama,” say my sons one thousand times a day, “can you fix this?” Hulk’s head has fallen off, or the knees of a favorite pair of pants are torn, or the bike chain has snapped, or there is slime on Eli’s favorite polar bear, or the switch is stuck, or the spring broke off, or Superman’s cape is hanging by a thread, or … “What even is this?” “Oh, that?” says Noah, my nine-year-old. “It’s where the batteries are supposed to go.” “But for what?” I ask. Noah and I study it for a whole entire minute. “I have zero idea,” he says.

What breaks most often in fairy tales are spells, and when a spell is broken the world is restored. The beast turns back into a prince, the kingdom wakes up, and a girl’s tears dissolve the shards of glass in a boy’s cold heart. I look up the word “spell.” It means the letters that form a word in correct sequence, and it means a period of time, and it means a state of enchantment. All of these things bind. But there is one last definition I catch, at the bottom. Spell also means a splinter of wood. What binds is also what cracks off. A spell is also what strays from the whole. This splinter of wood feels like a clue to a mystery I hope to never solve. I add the splinter (that is, a spell) to the shard of glass in my glove compartment. I leave them there together in the dark.

We are knee-deep in broken things. I wade through the kitchen, and the news, and our yard. The dryer is making a sound. The country is divided. Tree limbs are everywhere. “How did the switch break off the lamp?” I ask Eli, my seven-year-old. He shrugs. “It’s like a miracle,” he says.

In Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Snow Queen,” a demon makes a mirror in which the image of whatever is good or beautiful dwindles to almost nothing, while the image of anything horrible appears even more horrible: “In the mirror the loveliest landscapes looked like boiled spinach, and the kindest people looked hideous or seemed to be standing on their heads with their stomachs missing.” The demon’s disciples travel all over the world with the mirror until there is not “a single country or person left to disfigure in it.” Then they fly to heaven to distort God and the angels, but the mirror shakes hard with laughter and shatters into a “hundred million billion pieces.” The air fills with mirror dust, and the glass blows into the eyes and the hearts of people everywhere. Each shard has the exact same power as the whole entire mirror. Whoever gets mirror in them is cursed with a hardened heart, and with seeing the ugliness of everything.

In Jewish mysticism there is a phase of Genesis called Tsim Tsum that is like the inside-out version of this fairy tale. The glass is not from a demon, but from God. According to the cabalists, in order to give the world life, in order to effect creation, God must depart from the world God created. The creator must always exile himself from the creation for the creation to breathe. God contracts to make space so that the world can exist. But right before the departure, God (like a mother) stuffs divine light into vessels that will be left behind. The vessels cannot contain God’s light, and burst, and shards of light are scattered everywhere. Gershom Scholem explains that we spend our lives collecting the offspring of this light. We spend our lives trying to make what once was broken whole again. This, according to the cabalists, begins the history of trauma.

In “The Snow Queen,” the good widow crow wraps a bit of black woolen yarn around her leg to grieve her dead sweetheart. I feel I should wrap something around my leg, too. It is almost the middle of November. I grieve for the past four years. They were such sick and tired years and so much fell to pieces. There is so much mirror dust in our eyes. “Move on,” texts my mother. “Up and out,” texts my mother. I get up and go to my car. I open the glove compartment. The shard is in the shape of a country that seems vaguely familiar, and the splinter is long and sharp like a tongue. I should’ve stayed with the children and helped them pick up the pieces. Maybe if we had put all our pieces together the pieces would’ve spelled something. Maybe it would have been a word we need, and now we’ll never know. I drive back to U Break It We Fix It. Someone has painted over the sign but the words are still legible like a body under a thin sheet. The store is still dark and shuttered and the parking lot is empty except for a crow who has a bit of black woolen yarn around her leg. The crow stares at me. “Hi crow,” I say. I notice something shiny in her beak. She drops it at my feet. It’s a shard of glass that fits with my shard of glass perfectly. When I put the two pieces together it looks like a transparent hand reaching out to help someone up. I want to jump for joy. We have only one hundred million billion pieces to go.In exchange, I give the crow the splinter. She picks it up in her beak where a tongue begins to grow. “Sit down,” says the crow. And I sit down in the middle of the parking lot. Just me and the crow on a soft autumn night. “Listen,” says the crow. And I listen. And she tells me a fairy tale I’ve never heard before about a whole entire country that almost disappeared.

Sabrina Orah Mark is the author of the poetry collections The Babies and Tsim Tsum. Wild Milk, her first book of fiction, is recently out from Dorothy, a publishing project. She lives, writes, and teaches in Athens, Georgia.


[Paris Review]

Thursday, October 15, 2020

ASK BABY TRUMP

The infant Donald Trump tackles tough questions from our readers.

Dear Baby Trump:
I recently bought a case of your steaks. Why do they taste like overcooked ham?
Beefless in Des Moines

Dear Beefless;
Thank you so much for your purchase. Take comfort in knowing that proceeds from all sales will go towards our dream of a racially purified Iowa. Stand Back and Stand by.
In the meantime, have you checked into Trump University?
Baby Trump


The views expressed herein are those of Baby D.T. and are neither shared nor condoned by myself, the U.S.D.A, or the U.S. Marine Corps.




Hmmmm. Looks a lot like Baby Hitler.

Thursday, September 24, 2020

NOT FEELING TOO GOOD MYSELF



“You've heard of people calling in sick. You may have called in sick a few times yourself. But have you ever thought about calling in well?
It'd go like this: You'd get the boss on the line and say, "Listen, I've been sick ever since I started working here, but today I'm well and I won't be in anymore." Call in well.”
― Tom Robbins

Saturday, September 05, 2020

SNAKES ON A PLANE




"We got to get these Motherf**kin' snakes off this Motherf**kin' plane"
Trumps latest conspiracy theory?
Thugs On A Plane
It has been running through my head all year.
2020?
Snakes on a plane, man.

Sunday, August 30, 2020

THE TWO TRUTHS



""The ordinary man has always been sane because the ordinary man has always been a mystic. He has permitted the twilight. He has always had one foot in earth and the other in fairyland. He has always left himself free to doubt his gods; but (unlike the agnostic of today) free also to believe in them. He has always cared more for truth than for consistency. If he saw two truths that seemed to contradict each other, he would take the two truths and the contradiction along with them. His spiritual sight is stereoscopic, like his physical sight: he sees two different pictures at once and yet sees all the better for that. Thus he has always believed that there was such a thing as fate, but such a thing as free will also."
 - G. K. Chesterton
Orthodoxy

Friday, August 28, 2020

EMPATHY IS A DIRTY WORD



Watching Trump's speech last night it occurs that he has been giving the same speech for 5 years now. He is consistently loud, angry, jingoistic, belligerent and a boor. 
If you saw his speech you may have noticed he used the word "empathy" twice. Both times he said the word as if he were spitting raw chicken lives from his mouth. And both times in order to belittle Joe biden for having it. Having empathy.
Just when did "empathy" become such a dirty word?

He seems to get through his day as though he is living in the Looking Glass...
"Alice laughed: "There's no use trying," she said; "one can't believe impossible things."
"I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was younger, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."




Wednesday, August 26, 2020

"GOING TO DISNEYLAND"


The summer of 1973 I was 16. I would get up in the morning, watch the Watergate hearings, then go to work at Red Lobster. At the end of the summer of 1974, Nixon resigned before they could properly impeach him. Here he is, seeming to claim victory even as he is being whisked away forever in a helicopter. I joined the Debate Team for my last year at Bell.
I wonder if Mr. President Trump will exit with as much style and grace?



Sunday, August 23, 2020

THERE ARE SOME STATUES WORTHY OF REMOVAL

 


"I'd like to put it back up, to rebuild it. But I'm afraid I'd be killed."
Kadhim al-Jabbouri, the guy who initially took a sledgehammer to a certain statue in downtown Bagdad, 2003

Friday, August 21, 2020

GETTING HISTORY RIGHT

 



Costa Rica does statues right.
Here we see the bare-breasted women defenders of Costa Rica in pursuit of the defeated American William Walker, who intended to personally colonize the region to himself. Walker is represented by the figure hastily exiting stage right, scrambling over the bodies of his fallen comrades.
The British, who had their own interests in the region would turn Walker over to the Hondurans who promptly executed him by Firing Squad.
If we are going to use statues as history lessons, we need more historically correct statues such as this one. Well done Costa Rica!

Thursday, August 20, 2020

COIN SHORTAGE

 
In 1982 while Ronald Reagan was President, I had saved $800 worth of coinS from waiting tables. Thats right, I was a waiter for about 6 months. Kept it in a giant plastic Moosehead Beer Piggy Bank. There was enough to buy a 15 horsepower outboard motor for a boat. No one ran out of change back then.

Coin shortages, Pandemics, Murder Hornets and everything else are the kind of things that happen when you elect an evil ruler. Don't be surprised when it starts raining frogs.

Tuesday, August 04, 2020

ON HAZELNUTS

I had this squirrel in my backyard. I tossed him a peanut. He just looked the other way. I took another peanut, shelled it for him and gave it a toss. He shot sideways 90 degrees and scrambled up the nearest tree.
A few days later he was out there. I tossed him a pecan. He looked at it, glared at me, and slowly hopped over to the neighbors porch.
Thanksgiving rolled around and I had some nice walnuts. Went to the backyard and tossed him one. He took a half step towards the nut, sniffed the air for a moment, and went back to rustling under the leaves. I said "You must be some high class squirrel to be turning down big fat walnuts" and I went and bought a bag of macadamias. 
Next time I saw him I went and tossed him a macadamia, the most Hawaiian of all the nuts. He hopped over to it, sniffed it, even picked it up in his little squirrel paws and rolled it around a few times. Then he dropped it. This squirrel sits back on his haunches, folds his little squirrel arms across his chest, raises one eyebrow, looks at me again with the glaring.
"Aghhh" I said. "What kind of fucking nut do you want you little asshole?"
And he says "Hazelnuts. I'm holding out for Hazelnuts. Some people call them filberts. How 'bout you fetch me some filberts?"

Monday, July 27, 2020

WE ALL FLOAT DOWN HERE



We have a new ritual. We normally sleep like a baby. Head hits the pillow and we are gone.
But we had some french drains installed last month in our backyard. We thought spending 4000 bucks on our new house would be fun. In our mind the finished product would look like the 12th hole at Pebble Beach.
But it was a nightmare. The drains were poorly installed, and now our backyard looks like Fukushima.
We lay awake, thinking of how we are going to fix them; how much it will cost to bring the guy whose bid we DIDNT go with in to fix them; how much crow we will have to eat to do so; googling up how to properly install a french drain in the dark on the phone at 3:00a.m. , the price of topsoil, sharpshooter shovels, pallets of grass, maybe a flagstone patio; contemplating that water will not drain uphill in that spot we pointed out to the installer; visions of a tsunami erupting from the drains, snakes sewer rats flotsam and jetsam, and a weird clown named Pennywise sitting in my kitchen laughing at me; the flood carrying our flatscreen TV, sofa cushions, Laz-Z-Boy, all our worldly possessions and mineral resources being carried downstream to the east fork of the Trinity river; then looping back into the resentment we have against the SHOEMAKER that SCREWED us in the first place. He broke our fence and stole our baby crowbar. Our dads baby crowbar, worth a couple hundred dollars sentimental value alone.
Do we have the energy to take this on and fix the drains ourselves?
Not if we don't shut off the brain and get some sleep.

BEEP BEEP STEVIE BOY!



Thursday, July 23, 2020

DREAM WITHIN A DREAM

I had a weird one last week. I dreamed that an old buddy of mine needed some help on something. Don’t remember exactly what.
I said “I’ve given you enough help. You are going to have to do this on your own”
And he said “But I helped you in in the exact same thing. Why wont you help me?”
I said “When did you help me?”
He said “In the dream you had earlier”
And while I was in this dream I thought back and yes, he was right, I had dreamed earlier he helped me.
And the thing is in real life this guy has helped me a lot. Back in my addiction he tried to help me so much I had to stop calling him for help.
But back to the dream.
I said “When did you help me?”
He said “In the dream you had earlier”
So I said “Yeah, but that was different”.
You should have seen the look on his face. I woke up, LMAO.

That was Thursday last week. He calls me out of the blue on Sunday night.
“Steve, Vickie and I had a fight. I need a place to stay tonight”
Surprised I was not. She’s a bitch.
“Sure Buddy, come on over!”


Wednesday, July 22, 2020

UNDER SURVEILLANCE

The New American Revolution: The Making of a Populist Movement

For some reason this reminds me of the family vacation we took to South Padre when I was 17. Two families really, my dads best friend Bruce and his family went with us.
Anyway, here we are on South Padre and I needed to get away from the families in order to score some pot from somewhere. This would amount to approaching some stranger a mile north of the Mexico border and asking where I could get some shit. I guess in 1974 it wasn’t as risky as it would be these days.
So I make some excuse to use the car to drive to a store and buy a book to read. Because what 17 year old freak wouldn’t want to do some summer reading at South Padre right? Bear with me here.
I cruised around and finally found a dude that looked like I might score from him and as luck would have it, I did!
Now I had to find a book.
They had a book rack in an old Skillerns drug store. I spent a long time looking at books and finally found one titled “The New American Revolution; How A French Marxist Society Is Coming To America”. It would go well with my Dick Gregory collection at home, provided that I could figure out what a fucking French Marxist was.
When I got back to the hotel with my stash and that book, Bruce wanted to see what book I’d bought.
I pulled it out of the bag and handed it to him. I thought he was going to shit a brick.
Later, on the beach rolling a joint I turned to glance back at the hotel and I could see Bruce on the balcony with a pair of binoculars, eyeballin’ the shit out of me, a newly born French Marxist.


Monday, July 20, 2020

ON ROUX

"The assistant of the stock, the roux, brings to the brown sauce only a flavor note of little importance, beyond its thickening principle, and it has the disadvantage of requiring, in order that the sauce be perfect, an almost absolute elimination of its components. Only the starchy principle remains in a sauce properly skimmed. Indeed, if this element is absolutely necessary to give mellowness and velvetiness to the sauce; it is much simpler to give it pure, which permits one to bring it to the point in as little time as possible, and to avoid a too prolonged sojourn on the fire. It is therefore infinitely probable that before long starch, fecula, or arrowroot obtained in a state of absolute purity will replace flour in the roux."

August Escoffier

Tuesday, July 14, 2020

CHIEF WAHOO AND THE REDSKINS


NFL's Washington Redskins to change name following years of ...


A friend of mine invited me to a church camp back around 2000. I think the idea was maybe I might get saved. I didn’t. But I enjoyed cooking for all the church people. So, I was grilling burgers on Saturday night. I was wearing one of my favorite shirts; a Cleveland Indians shirt with Chief Wahoo on it. I loved that shirt.

So I’m grilling burgers and this guy pulls me to the side. Says “I’m Native American, and you shirt is very offensive to some people. I’m not asking that you take it off. I just want you to know.” He was as polite as a person can be while saying something like that.
I didn’t see anything wrong with my shirt.

So a few years later I’m in my closet looking for something to wear and I see my Wahoo shirt. I start to put it on. And I thought about that guy a few years earlier. I took the shirt off, hung it back up and it went to Goodwill a year later. I don’t know what came over me. Its not like I suddenly thought the shirt was offensive. I just decided I didn’t need to have that shirt. Why wear a shirt that might offend anybody?
The Redskins insignia is a little more dignified than ol’ Chief Wahoo. Or, I should say, was.

I guess on another level my spiritual practice, my sacrament, is not wearing that shirt again for a guy I'll never see. I think about him a lot whenever I have a chance to protect someone else's dignity. I don't expect anyone to be able to relate to any of this, its just my story.

I can see why Chief Wahoo is a little offensive. But he can come to my party anytime!

Chief Wahoo - Wikipedia

Monday, July 13, 2020

BEING KING

I like Biden. I guess one of the most important things to me in a president is "Does he like people?" I think Biden likes people.
Trump? Trump likes money. I think he likes money more than he likes people. He seems to have a huge list of people he doesn't like. He's pretty loud about it too.
And even the people he seems to like tend to fall out of his favor very quickly.
I think this is a bad combination when it comes to being King.
Being King.
I have a story somewhere about a King...

"This is the story of a very kind and generous Arab King. The nation did not know hunger during his times.
He would part with anything, but one thing.
One of his horses was very dear to his heart. That was the one thing he wouldn’t let go of. Not for all the money in the world.
A thief decided to scam the king. There was one way to scam a generous soul.
He knew the King took his dear horse out for a ride, same time, same path, everyday. So, he threw himself on the ground, on the kings path, screaming that he’s been hit and robbed by thieves.
The king came down off of his dear horse, and ran to help this man.
He hit the king, and ran to ride the beautiful horse away.
The king asked him for one thing,
“Can you please not tell anyone how you took my horse?
”The thief said, laughing, “Why, are you afraid they’ll call you a fool?”
“No.” The King replied. “I fear people in my kingdom will not be stopping for a man in need anymore.”

Can you imagine Donald Trump saying that?

#1 COVID 19 BUDDY OF THE DAY



I had a weird one yesterday. I left the Dollar Store and a girl came up to my car window and wanted to buy my mask.
Really?
I told her they would give her one in the Dollar Store. So I watched while she went in because, well, she looked kinda nice if you know what I mean.
Then she came right back out with a mask and went to the Liquor Store next door.
Friggen' East Side. This town is a trip.

Image stolen from Peteski
https://thisisnthappiness.com/archive

Wednesday, July 08, 2020

ON THE "N" WORD




When I was Garde Manger at the Hyatt I had four little black ladies that worked for me. Panola, Geraldine, Georgia, and Pearl. The Salad Ladies. They loved me and we had a blast. I found if I could get them talking in the morning they would work their ass off for me. They used to use that n-word all the time, threw it around like peanuts at the circus. No, they didn’t use it that much. This was 1985. It was not quite like today where you hear and see it a lot. One day I decided I would try to use it. Panola, she was like the leader, she put her knife down, and the other three stopped jabbering. The look on their faces was surprise and hurt. Panola said you are crazy white boy if you think you can use that word. But it was too late. I already figured it out just by the looks on their faces. That's not my word to be able to weigh in on. they went back to working like nothing ever happened but I never tried that again..

I see the question come up now and then. “Why can’t white folks use that word? Black folks use it plenty.” My first reaction is that any white person using that word is going nowhere in a hurry. Its an ugly word with a horrible past. My second reaction is that black folks own that word, bought and paid for. It was inflicted upon them in the most hateful ways imaginable and often accomanied by physical violence. Its called “appropriation” I think, and probably by making it a term of endearment among themselves, they took its power away.

I think the last time I used it was a couple years ago. I had just seen this Denzel movie "Fences", and its full of the n word. It just kind of slipped out, me mimicking Denzel. Denzel Washington. He can say the shit out of nigger, I tell you what. Luckily I was just with a good friend, who looked at me kinda like Panola did that day. It felt...awkward. I got enough racist history without taking that on.

Way back in HS for a Psyche Class I picked a book off a list to read. The title was “Nigger”, by the political activist and comedian Dick Gregory. Written in 1963. It was basically his autobiography. After I read that I read his other two books. Both had a great effect on me. A few months later when I was 17 I heard that Gregory was speaking at UT Arlington. I talked a buddy of mine into going with me.
I may not have been the most enlightened person in the auditorium that night, but I’ll bet I was the only 17 year old.
And thinking about it, it may be that what we see these days with blacks having taken ownership of the word Nigger is due in large part to Dick Gregory.
He said things like if he ever opened a restaurant he would name it Nigger for all the free advertising he would get.
A few times over the years, on Facebook, I have done a series of posts during Black History Month. Historical informative type pieces.
It was mostly in reaction to friends who would say “Why do we have a Black History Month”.
One year I titled all the posts as “Educate Your Ignorant White Ass On Some Black History Month”.
I had more than one person take exception to my title.
I wonder how they would be trying to handle being called something as inflammatory as Nigger?

Tuesday, July 07, 2020

TURN IT UP



When I was in the sixth grade the big kid across the street had a reel to reel. He said “Pick out what you want to hear” and handed me a list of songs on the reel. I looked it over. He had Grass Roots, Marty Robbins, Steppenwolf, Jimi Hendrix, Tommy Roe.

About halfway down there was the "Theme to the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly". That’s what I picked.
He said “You’re a weird little kid aren’t you?” and handed me the headphones.
Ennio Morricone, Composer extraordinaire, dead at 91.

The Manly Task


I had some drains installed in my backyard a few weeks ago. A big pile of dirt left over to back fill around the house and spread over the yard. I started out with a Home Depot bucket. After about 20 buckets I determined I was going to have about 450 to go so I went on down to Home Depot and got a manly wheelbarrow. It helped considerably.
So with all the dirt spread nicely over the clay in my backyard I turned my attention to my gutter. The one with the low spot. The one that spills tons of water over the edge every time it rains. And every time it rains more of my beautiful topsoil I have spread goes down the drains.
I sent a text to my handyman pal to come over and fix my low spot in the gutter. Low spots in gutters are way too technical for me. I had a low spot in a gutter years ago that I spent a decade trying to correct and all I ever did, all I ever succeeded in doing, was to punch holes in the gutter and the fascia of the house.
But my handyman pal never texted me back. With storm clouds on the horizon and my beautiful topsoil at risk I stopped at Home Depot and bought the big long nails and ferrules that are supposed to correct a sagging gutter. Once more, into the fray. .I watched several YouTube's. I got on the ladder and installed two ferrules. No appreciable difference. I installed another. My God, is my gutter sagging even lower? We are heading the wrong direction here.
So I determined that instead of trying to correct a sagging gutter I would just install a downspout at the low spot. Genius!
But could I actually pull it off? Do I have the manly skills necessary? Of course not. But I was fucking desperate. Back to Home Depot I went. I got the little downspout thing, some pookie (that's like a sealer), and a 2 inch hole saw.
Let me tell you my friend, it's been a long time since I was so determined. A long time since I was so focused. I was either going to succeed or completely ruin my gutter. My gutter that spilled water every time it rained. What did I have to lose really?
And I found myself strangely aroused. I was hard for it. A manly household task. Performed from the top of an 8 ft ladder!
I drilled a 2-inch hole. I took my hacksaw blade and made some slits. I took my needle nose pliers and bent the gutterslits in order to Fashion the oval shape necessary for the downspout thingy. I was into it big time . I didn't even take a break . I applied the pookie and a couple set screws and I think I'm in business! I'll find out tomorrow when I screw up the downspout.

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

MISSISSIPPI BURNING


"The rest of those who have gone before us will not steady the unrest of those who are to follow"

Mississippi, the last state to ratify the 13th Amendment, will also be the last state to rid itself of Confederate Insignia on its state flag.

Wednesday, June 24, 2020

BAD ASS SITE OF THE DAY

A friend posted an interesting link last year. I took the first test “How Rational Are You?”
I figured myself to be pretty rational. I was surprised to only score 28% rational. 
That means that 72% of you are more rational than I am!

I told one of my workmates about this. With my arms waving I screeched my complaint:
“They said I was only 28% Rational!”
He looked at me calmly and said “And this surprises you how?”
So I went over three of the questions with him, which he answered perfectly. This guy is so rational I cant believe I even LIKE him. But I do.
With so many people with so much time to kill I’ll provide the link to a pretty cool site. I’ve taken several of their tests, and a couple of their courses.
I just finished the one “How to spot a strong vs weak argument.” I did pretty well overall, and scored low on letting preconceived notions affect my ability to rank an argument.
Again, it’s a great site, not the usual “ What color Teddy Bear are you” kind of thing.

Here is the (click here) How Rational Are You Test. Let me know what you think.

CLEARER THINKING
Clearer Thinking’s mission is to close the gap between insights from research about human behavior and actions in the real world. We start with the best research we can find and perform our own original studies in order to build best-in-class, interactive tools and mini-courses that you can use to change your habits, make better decisions, and achieve your goals.

Tuesday, June 23, 2020

FEELING GOOD WAS GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME


On his way to teach at the United States Military Academy at West Point, Kris Kristoferson stopped in Nashville and decided to stay and become a big ol’ country star. He pushed a broom at Columbia Record Studio and tried to write some songs. He had some success with “Sunday Morning Coming Down” and “Help Me Make It Through The Night” covered by Johnny Cash and someone else, cant quite recall.
A producer, Fred Foster noticed him and said “Ok, I’ll let you write some songs for me, but first I want to produce an album of you singing.”
Kristoferson said “But I caint sing, I sound like a Bullfrog” and Fred says “Do you want in this business or what?”
The record was a flop.
But Fred Called Kris up one day.

“I got a great idea for a song” he said.
“OK, what is it?” Kris asks.
“Me and Bobby Mcghee” says Fred.
“What?” says Kris.
“Me and Bobby Mcghee” says Fred.
“That’s it? Gee thanks” says Kris, and hangs up the phone.

A few months later Kris writes “Me and Bobby Mcghee”. He and Roger Miller record it, but it goes unnoticed.
Then Janis Joplin records it. The release comes after her death.
Fred Foster calls Kris one night.
“Man, have you heard Janis Joplins version of “Me and Bobby Mcgee”?
“No”
“You better be sitting down when you do”.
The rest is history. Janis made it her own, and Kris gave equal writing credit to Fred Foster, who had supplied the title
.


Thursday, June 18, 2020

YOU NEVER KNOW

My son just got to Alaska to work in the fishing industry. I have a cousin in Costa Rica that has worked a Sports Fishing boat for years.
He said “That’s the great thing about being on the water. You never know what the day will bring”

Monday, June 15, 2020

THE SHOPPING CART LITMUS TEST

Do you return the cart? What kind of person are you?
It's a pretty good indicator of my spiritual condition. When I'm feeling slovenly, and it's a dark November in my soul  I leave the cart. Wherever. I don't even look back. Just drag my sorry ass to the drivers seat and go.

But when I'm in tune with the universe, birds are chirping and the sun shining brightly, and people everywhere seem to shine, then it is my delight to return the shopping cart, whistling "Rhinestone Cowboy as I go. You should see the spring in my step as I do so.

Thursday, June 11, 2020

THE LEAST RACIST PERSON I KNOW

Back about 1999 I was living off Lancaster Ave. Largely colored community. I had my kids for the weekend and I was taking them to the Children's Museum downtown. We were going to ride the bus. I’d never ridden the city bus before. It pulled up and we got on. Nothing but black people on this bus. I’m ushering the kids down the aisle. Looking for a seat and I see a Fort Worth cop sitting there, an empty seat in front of him. I ushered the kids into the empty seat and announced “Here we go kids, we’ll be safe here”.
I’m not sure if anyone other than the cop heard me, but I’m not known for being soft spoken. I didn’t even realize until later what I’d said and how it must have sounded. Any one that heard me must have thought “What kind of cracker we got here?”.
I like to think I’m one of the least racist people I know.
Race in America.  Its like a Greek Tragedy. The more you try to run from it, the more you run into it.


Monday, June 01, 2020

Somewhere there is an upside


I've learned two things:
1) I have got to stop touching everything all the time. Everywhere I go, everything I see, I have a need to touch it. I walked in a restaurant for an order pick up a few days ago and started to run my hand 50 feet down the counter to the register. No, Bulletholes! Stop!
2) I got to stop crowding people. When I step in line somewhere, I'm usually right on top of whoever is in line with me. When this is over I need to try to give them at least 18 inches.

Saturday, May 30, 2020

MONTHLY DEATH COUNTS

I keep hearing about how the number of cOVID-19 deaths is way overstated. Then some anecdote about how someone committed suicide or was killed in a car crash then listed as a COVID death.
But these statistics people are sharp as shit. They cross reference these numbers every which way but loose. In New York City for instance, they usually have about 8000 people die between 3/15 and 5/1. Its somewhat predictable. This year 32,000 died. And it just so happened that 24,000 deaths were attributed to COVID in that time period.

So it kinda all checks out for NYC. They do that for all the regions around the country. When they find discrepancies, they will be looking for problems in the data. These guys are smart...
Here is a chart from Michigan that you can compare deaths for April 2019 and April of 2020. Deaths from all causes and by cause. Interesting how closely balanced the variance is accounting for COVID deaths.

Click HERE


Wednesday, May 27, 2020

AUNT LOUISE



Years ago I found my grandmother about to set fire to a suitcase full of old family pics. It took a while, but I talked her out of it, and saved the suitcase. I finally started framing some of these pics last week. Most are 100 years old.
One was my Aunt Louise. I never liked Louise much. She seemed all stuffy, like some kind of fuddy-duddy.
Then I found this pic of her this weekend. Look how adorable she is! Those glasses! That mischievous look! Never mind that she kept plastic on the furniture and whenever we went to visit I had to sit on the sofa with my hands in my lap.
Look at her!
If she was to walk into Boomer Jacks tonight they wouldn’t be able to leave her alone.


TUESDAY MORNING


I bought the cutest little lamp at Tuesday Morning 7 years ago. My first lamp I ever bought. Susan helped me carry it in. She dropped it at the doorstep. It shattered into a million pieces. I still tease her about it to this day every chance I get. I know, I'm horrible.
Its like I love Susan even more for it.
The lamp had a fabric shade with a lavender floral design in it that was invisible until you turned the light on. I kept it in the closet for a while hoping to get another lamp to put it on. I was in the closet one day rearranging stuff and the shade fell off the shelf and an avalanche of boxes came down and crushed it. Some things just aren’t to be.

Sunday, May 24, 2020

LATE FOR WORK FROM HOME DAY

Between work from home and half furlough days I'm all screwed up. Woke up this morning thinking it was Sunday. Turned on the TV, no Sunday shows. It must be Saturday. Nope. It took 5 full minutes of total disorientation to figure out it was Tuesday.
Tuesday? Oh no! I'm late for work from home day!
What did they put in that burrito last night?

Friday, May 22, 2020

AND LOCK UP YOUR ADDERAL


I've been saying for some time that our politicians are fair game, but we should not take shots at their supporters. I try to live by that. This toe's the line a bit.
I've heard it said "Sure he's crass and vulgar and I wouldn't want him at my BBQ but he gets things done." And that is a valid point.

"Me, I wouldn't want him at my BBQ because he'd take up a dump in the pool and blame it on democrats, boast about grabbing my wife's pussy, take one look at my Latino attorney and contact INS, call the guys in white hoods who crashed the party good people, encourage everyone at the party to drink Drano, put a tariff on the egg rolls and lie about how the Chinese are paying for it, brag about his IQ and then tell my kid the Continental Army took out airports during the revolutionary war, lecture me about how the weather vane at the top of my house kills birds, tell my African-American pal he comes from a shithole country, cheat at miniature golf, call any woman who dare ask him a simple question rude and disrespectful, brag about how his house is better than my house and refuse to shut up about it, kick my transqender friend out of the party, eat all my hot dogs and swear Barack Obama did it even though Barack Obama isn't at the party, screw my pooch and blame it on the pooch, then tell me to get away from the grill because the grill is a big, beautiful grill and it was his idea I buy it in the first place. And when he finally left I'd discovered my cuff links were missing."

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

THEY SHOULD WEAR CAPES

"Just got moved off of the COVID19 floor to a regular room where staff aren't wearing space suits! I can eat with silverware, real dishes & see the faces of the people caring for me! Hospital's aren't fun for anyone but the absolute worst part of the small quarantine floor I was on was hearing the screams of real COVID19 patients. The nurses were tense, sad & clearly stressed by the number of things going on. I hated to ask for things because others needed them more. I heard at least 3 code blue calls, saw nurses comfort each other & saw chaos from staff running to other rooms, from the little window in my room where a nurse sat & watched 2 patients for 12 hours. She'd come out of one room & changed gear, disinfected her helmet, hands, etc. Then suit back up to enter my room. I asked my last quarantine nurse if they were having a lot of new people this morning, as she was frantically getting me ready for the room transfer...she apologized for rushing me & said "you have no idea"....I felt so bad for her, she couldn't even wipe her own tears through the spacesuit helmet she was wearing. I have a serious new respect for all our healthcare heroes. They should wear capes, have time to eat, have bathroom breaks & definitely make more money. But for now every one I see, is 'wearing a cape', because they are the real Super Heroes of this pandemic."


A friend of mine, quarantined for COVID 19 for several days and eventually tested negative.

Detailed further..."...EVERY LOSS IS PERSONAL...""I was brought in by ambulance to a special entrance specifically for probable COVID19 patients. Nurses in full protective gear met the ambulance & paramedics to transfer me to triage. I had to stay in triage for several hours before a room in the COVID19 unit freed up. Never thought to ask why it freed up...
But anyway, they put me in that part of the hospital where the rooms were set up with 1 nurse in a spacesuit & helmet, watched 2 rooms on either side of a split window. I was too sick when I went in to notice how many rooms where on the floor but when I left, there appeared to be about 5 stations on each side of the central nursing desk. That would be around 20 patients with 10 nurses, sitting outside the rooms. This was in tower 4. I was told each tower had a COVID19 unit. I got meds through a double sided closet door/window. Techs put it in outside & my nurse would take it out on my side of the room to give me. Techs were walking around helping but they only wore black plastic "trash bag" looking gowns & masks. I did ask one of them if they were really medical grade gowns or if the hospital was improvising. She laughed & said they were actually medical gowns.
I had to wear a mask whenever any staff entered my room too. The doctors had the most protective gear. Full spacesuits, helmet's, masks, gloves & shoe coverings. Nurses had the second best level of protection & techs had the least. All my meals were delivered through the double-sided door. Everything was in disposable Styrofoam. Once I asked if they would re-microwave my coffee. They said that once something had entered a contaminated room, it couldn't leave except as trash.
Even though I couldn't see any other patients, I could hear them. Lots of PA announcements, codes, (code blue), coughing, crying & staff running down the hallways. Sometimes I'd see nurses appear to be breaking down, from exhaustion or sadness...I don't know which, but they were clearly stressed.
This morning, very suddenly, all heck broke loose & a tech & nurse started getting me ready to transfer. It was confusing but I'd guessed more patients were needing a bed in the unit. The nurse apologized for rushing me. I asked if everything was okay & she said "No!" I asked what was happening & she started crying & said "You'd never understand". She couldn't hide her tears under the space helmet.
I was only quarantined for 4 days & had 3 COVID19 tests before being sent to a less restrictive area. So I'm on a regular floor now. No one should doubt that this is a very serious infection or that people aren't dying from it. I'm very grateful to merely have septicemia which is easily treated with antibiotics. I've got only prayers for those still left in the quarantined areas.They are completely alone when they need their families the most. The staff was great but they aren't family. (Although you can see it in their eyes, that every loss is personal.) Yes, there are lots of very sick people who are quarantined here at this hospital. Please pray they get to go home & that you are well enough to stay in yours! I know I will."

I got to tell you she's probably the prettiest girl I ever dated!

Monday, May 11, 2020

BACK TO WORK


And what a wonderful thing that artifice can be. Now that we are all working from home, amid the children, the toast crumbs and the laundry, we are realising that the pretence of an orderly life at the office is also a liberation. It allows each day to have its own architecture, its rhythms of departure and arrival. Putting on a perfectly ironed silk shirt or a crisp suit and leaving the house may be contrived but it is also, says Kellaway, “one of the beauties of working life…It allows us to be a different person. And we’re all so fed up with who we are, the opportunity to be someone else, someone a little bit more impressive, is just so tempting.” When such an escape is denied us, that allure may only grow.

Catherine Nixey, from “Death of the Office” in The Economist

Thursday, May 07, 2020

MONKEY WARDS

I was sharing at an NA meeting a few weeks ago. Recounted that in 1972 I got busted for a little pot. I had to go to counseling. They didn’t have NA around here back then. So my parents and I attended Montgomery Wards Family Counseling Services. I could sense that hardly anyone in the group had any idea what Montgomery Wards was.
“It was a department store y’all, like Sears or Pennys”
“Ohhhh” you could hear them all sigh.
Probably paid on a Monkey Wards CC.

Couple more years and it will be "Sears who?"

FOR THE PEOPLE

"So you talk about mobs and the working classes as if they were the question. You've got that eternal idiotic idea that if anarchy came it would come from the poor. Why should it? The poor have been rebels, but they have never been anarchists; they have more interest than anyone else in there being some decent government. The poor man really has a stake in the country. The rich man hasn't; he can go away to New Guinea in a yacht. The poor have sometimes objected to being governed badly; the rich have always objected to being governed at all. Aristocrats were always anarchists."
 - G. K. Chesterton
The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare


Friday, May 01, 2020

A GIFT



As they were leaving the garden
one of the angels bent down to them and whispered

I am to give you this
as you are leaving the garden

I do not know what it is
or what it is for
what you will do with it

you will not be able to keep it
but you will not be able

to keep anything
yet they both reached at once

for the present
and when their hands met

they laughed

–W.S. Merwin from Garden Time
source: beautywelove

Thursday, April 30, 2020

HOT AUGUST NIGHT



The last round of my ten favorite albums, Part Two.
I hate to admit it but I love Neil Diamond. Some albums will get you laid, Breads “Baby I’ma Want You” and that’s reason enough to like Bread.
No one would ever accuse Neil Diamond of doing an album that would get you laid.
But I gotta tell you “Hot August Night” is so easy to listen to.
And I had a friend when I was a good little church boy named James Packard who did a rousing rendition of “Brother Loves Travelling Salvation Show”.
He did it so good that it might have gotten HIM laid a time or two, and I’m not sure if its OK to say that here or not, but there it is.
Me? That last side with “Holly Holy”, “I Am I said” and “Soolaiman” really does it for me.
Do you want to know how dumb I am?
When I was in the 6th Grade there was a kid at school named Mike Wright. He was like the Burt Reynolds of the sixth grade with a full beard and everything.
“I Am I Said” was a big hit, they played it every hour on the radio.
When It got to the chorus:
“I am I cried
I am said I”
I thought they were talking about Mike Wright.
“I am I cried”…get it?

Saturday, April 25, 2020

A TALE OF TWO TESTS

Last month it was "Everybody will get a test, OK? We got beautiful tests, the best tests. We're number one in testing."
Now its like "Not my tests".

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

BULLETHOLES HAS A DONUT


The doctor has had me track my blood sugar on a spreadsheet the last month. I went in yesterday with the results. He glanced at it for a moment.
“This doesn’t look too bad “ he said “A lot of 100’s and 120”s”
“Thank you sir”
Then he looked a little more deeply.
‘What’s this day… 220, 247 and 298? “
“That’s the day I had a coupla few donuts”
“Coupla few? What’s that?”
“Its like two or three. Maybe four. Ok, it was five donuts.”
“You ate five donuts?”
“Uh-huh. And maybe an apple fritter”

Saturday, April 18, 2020

MY SUPERPOWER

“And so I remind myself: my real challenge right now is a spiritual one. In the midst of an evolving, unprecedented crisis, can I truly practice living moment to moment? Can I take on this strange new life day by day, from a place of tender awareness rather than fear? Can I let go of the ways I thought life would unfold and save my strength to swim with the tide? Can I stay focused on what’s good, right now?” ~ Katrina Kenison, from “The gift of an ordinary day


*******

That is the challenge isnt it? I was just at the grocery. I see all the people. They are worried. Nervous. I want to reach out, but we have to keep our distance. So I find myself sauntering along with a stupid smile on my face waiting for someone to look up so I can give them my best “How do you do?”.
But people these days are so afraid to look up.
Twice, maybe three times I choked up a little over this distance that has had to be imposed. Its like a vaccuum. I just want to fill it.
A couple years ago I came into possession of a big Rudolph head. You put it over your head, and its got the big screen eyes you can see through. Suddenly you are a disney character. Ive had so much fun wearing that thing during Christmas; meetings, parties, even wore it to an art show.
An idea came over me two weeks ago. I should wear it to the grocery, with a little mask! So I posted a pic on FB and asked should I or should I not do this?
Of course everyone says yes. I could do it, it is my Superpower, doing stuff like that.
But SHOULD I?
So I made a dry run to the store. No mask, just trying to get a feel for people.
Two weeks ago was just like today. Every body is too nervous, too on edge. I don't want to appear to make light of this serious situation we are in. I don't want to disrespect anyone's dignity, or mess with their serenity. That’s the challenge.
But here one day, when things aren't so tight, maybe I wear my mask in.


''There are no easy answers, no clear path through any of this, other than caution, kindness, and care for ourselves and others.
That is the challenge...""


Until then I’ll just have to stick to a big smile and “How do you do?”