Road Trip on Memory Lane
Yesterday I took that trip, a small part of it at any rate.
Jenni and I headed out at 5 PM. We went to Spencer Lapidary just off the junction of highways 37 and 13 on the southern tip of Elwood. We've seen it a few times, but never stopped until yesterday. It has some amazing rocks, and since I was a "rock hound' when I was in Junior and Senior high school I was enthralled. We both were, and after a 45 minute visit to a showroom roughly the size of my living room and dining room, we left with some very wise purchases in a bag too small for a PBJ sandwich. My big purchase was the 2" diameter Brazilian Agate sphere shown here, and in detail below.
Above: Three Faces of My Brazilian Agate Sphere in detail.
Below: The other six stones from Spencer Lapidary. Chuck Pace ©2007
The primary reason I stopped at that particular spot is because I worked in that very building when I was in high school. It was Rogers and Son Union 76 full service station, owned by Marshall Rogers, and run by Ron Rogers his son. It was before the time of self service. We did car repairs, alignments, brakes and batteries. I was driving a suspect '69 VW bug, my coworker Jeff Hauk an awesome 68 Sapphire Blue Satellite 400cid beast, but the neatest car in the stable was Ron's weekend night ride, a dirt sprint car with graphics and lettering painted by me, I got to go to a couple of races in Kokomo when Ron running and really enjoyed the action.
Leaving Elwood on highway 13 our next stop was Swayzee, IN. Where I went to elementary school, and the first place I ever remember living. The place has changed some, and is smaller than I remembered. Jenni and I had double Cheeseburgers at Social's Cafe, which was called the Peace and Plenty last time I saw it. After dinner we headed to my grade school buddy Jeff Shane's first house, then to the house I grew up in. On the way out of town we drove past a couple of other buddies homes that I used to ride my bike to. I was telling Jenni a lot of the history of the school and town as I drove.
Next over to Marion, then south to the farm where I spent my Junior and Senior High School years. The current owners took down the house and barn, and have a double wide trailer on the property now. More changes. On into Frankton, I barely recognized the place, the Elementary and Jr. High school are not where they were, the "downtown" is completely different and the High School is twice the size it was when I went there and graduated 29 years ago. I was warned by Nicci Herrin, another Frankton Eagle alumni, that I wouldn't recognize the town. She was right. I feel like I'm old, and someone keeps moving my chair. Dang.
The day ended with me trying to find the home of my best high school friend Dwaine Jackson and his sister Dana's who both now live Anderson. I found Dwaine's but not Dana's while driving around in the dark. Well it was a good day. I've got the stones to say so.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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Is that where the recliner was when we left?
Fall Out Shelter
09/28/07 03:33 AM | Permalink
Not two nights in a row surely. To think that I could again sleep the sleep that I slept yesterday, I must have been dreaming. I went to the bedding area tonight before 11:00 PM only to awaken, or more accurately reawaken a final time at 1:47 AM. I had been skimming the sleep state like a flat stone striking the surface of a placid lake. Not ever getting in deep enough to sink. My mind reattaching itself to reality far too often for an REM cycle to establish itself. I said fine. Fine. I got up and made way to the World HQ for a of bit pre-posterous action. I had fragments of thoughts from my sleep skims lingering and thought to capture them here in a semblance. I had less cogency and cohesiveness than I thought I might. I thought to weave together the random fragments into a tapestry of ideas like a insomniac quilt that you could pull up to your chin and get drowsy with, and together we could drop off for a quick nap. The pieces are too small, and the holes are too big. I have re-gathered those fragments and put them into my nap sack, which I will take to the sack when I resume nap, due to lack of which I'm happy with slap. I kept hoping for the sleep monster to swallow me but the anastaltic (or reverse parastaltic) actions kept bringing me back up.
I had Fall out from my last post. I got e-mails from Susan Hobbs and Melissa Gallant. Without an inflection filter I could not tell if I was being chastised, or cajoled. Those fragments and scraps from my sleep abortion sought a forum. I intended no slights, to either fair maiden. I had no quarrels with their accessorizing or the loose fit or tightness of said accessory. I was merely observing for those beyond the 'there and then' to the window I had opened in the 'here and now'. Four days gone from the Autumnal Equinox I was still feeling the heat, even with all the Fall out and I could not retreat to my mind which I have obviously lost, but never left.
It has already been over 50 minutes, I have heard nearly half of Ulrich Schnauss' Far Away Trains Passing By CD and the eyelids are heavy, I may push up the kick-stand an give the sleep cycle another try soon. I danced with the music teacher Wednesday night, perhaps I can have a waltz with Morpheus yet this morning before Nyx retreats and another work day rises in yonder East.
The music is over, Help Me Moon and Stars. At 3 AM I leave you with a lyric snippit from Golden Earring and their song "Twilight Zone".
It has already been over 50 minutes, I have heard nearly half of Ulrich Schnauss' Far Away Trains Passing By CD and the eyelids are heavy, I may push up the kick-stand an give the sleep cycle another try soon. I danced with the music teacher Wednesday night, perhaps I can have a waltz with Morpheus yet this morning before Nyx retreats and another work day rises in yonder East.
The music is over, Help Me Moon and Stars. At 3 AM I leave you with a lyric snippit from Golden Earring and their song "Twilight Zone".
I'm falling down a spiral, destination unknown
A double-crossed messenger, all alone
I can't get no connection, can't get through, where are you
Well the night weighs heavy on his guilty mind
This far from the borderline
And when the hit man comes
He knows damn well he has been cheated
Help I'm steppin' into the twilight zone
The place is a madhouse, feels like being cloned
My beacon's been moved under moon and star
Where am I to go, now that I've gone too far
Help I'm steppin' into the twilight zone
The place is a madhouse, feels like being cloned
My beacon's been moved under moon and star
Where am I to go, now that I've gone too far
Soon you will come to know, when the bullet hits the bone
Soon you will come to know, when the bullet hits the bone
Chuck Pace © 2007
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On The Avenue
09/27/07 07:12 AM | Permalink
Omm-Pa-Pa, Omm-Pa-Pa, Omm-Pa-Pa, ziggy zahgy, oy,oy,oy. October-Fest. Last night the Chatterbox, tonight the world! No wait that is Pinky and the Brain speaking. Bobby Slovak and Polka-Motion. Beers tasted. Pumpkin Spice, Old Spice, Paul and Leto Atreides and the Harkonnen's. Spice Wars and the weirding way. Wait again, that is just the sleep rubbing off the cranial surfaces. I slept. For the first time in a week I slept well. The well had some interesting characters in it. Then mind wondered, in its wanders, but I think I can get to a point (where I'm no fun anymore, I am sorry), I am yours again.
Funny, this reminds me of the psyche-ward. Chuck Pace © 2007
The turnout at the Chatterbox was sparse. I think the weather threatening scared off some people, but I didn't listen to idle threats I pushed on. I pushed on again, but in the end the power was off so the on button was not working. So instead I met up with Jenni and Rebecca who got prime parking in front of the Three Dog Bakery. I invited the youngest and brightest minds at Roberts out on Monday, but they didn't show up until Wednesday (so much for brightest, eh), because of conflicts with their schedules. Compromises were made and the old man joined the band. Jennifer Parker (just back from the future) and Derek Martin boldly went where many others have gone before. But they walked. From Roberts to the Chatterbox is around 8 blocks and not at all a bad walk, I have done it many times. So this is the first 'daylight' visit of Our Miss Parker and Mr. Martin to the Chatterbox that I know of and if I am totally wrong I will take it up with the publishers in the morning. Rebecca was in rare form, sobriety at the end of the evening that is, Brad Griffith and Sue Hobbs were in their form, Jeff Barber and Rachel Aspy reformed, and Kay , Rich and a cast of 10's conformed, Melissa Gallant and her beau John were less than formidable. The Beuke's were inside with the Polka players, the music was all around, Vanessa, Rachel H, DeAnne and David were providing Food and Drink, and an octet of crazy polka maniac women pulled together two tables and begged and screamed for more polka, more, louder, more!
Roberts Newbies, going snake eyed.
For Your Consideration, DeAnne (who was as always Dee formed, and a very nice form that is) told me about some Parker Posey movie she had seen in Broken English, but I couldn't tell if she was being Fay Grim or putting the Oh in Ohio, because the music was too loud.
Well time has driven a wedge between me and more words for now. Obviously I'm off.
Funny, this reminds me of the psyche-ward. Chuck Pace © 2007
The turnout at the Chatterbox was sparse. I think the weather threatening scared off some people, but I didn't listen to idle threats I pushed on. I pushed on again, but in the end the power was off so the on button was not working. So instead I met up with Jenni and Rebecca who got prime parking in front of the Three Dog Bakery. I invited the youngest and brightest minds at Roberts out on Monday, but they didn't show up until Wednesday (so much for brightest, eh), because of conflicts with their schedules. Compromises were made and the old man joined the band. Jennifer Parker (just back from the future) and Derek Martin boldly went where many others have gone before. But they walked. From Roberts to the Chatterbox is around 8 blocks and not at all a bad walk, I have done it many times. So this is the first 'daylight' visit of Our Miss Parker and Mr. Martin to the Chatterbox that I know of and if I am totally wrong I will take it up with the publishers in the morning. Rebecca was in rare form, sobriety at the end of the evening that is, Brad Griffith and Sue Hobbs were in their form, Jeff Barber and Rachel Aspy reformed, and Kay , Rich and a cast of 10's conformed, Melissa Gallant and her beau John were less than formidable. The Beuke's were inside with the Polka players, the music was all around, Vanessa, Rachel H, DeAnne and David were providing Food and Drink, and an octet of crazy polka maniac women pulled together two tables and begged and screamed for more polka, more, louder, more!
Roberts Newbies, going snake eyed.
For Your Consideration, DeAnne (who was as always Dee formed, and a very nice form that is) told me about some Parker Posey movie she had seen in Broken English, but I couldn't tell if she was being Fay Grim or putting the Oh in Ohio, because the music was too loud.
Well time has driven a wedge between me and more words for now. Obviously I'm off.
Stranger Than Fiction
09/26/07 12:42 AM | Permalink
You may not know that you know Vangelis music at all but you do. 1979's Opera Sauvage featured a couple of songs that were prominent in "Give Her the Gift of Diamonds", and "Diamonds are Forever" TV commercials for over a decade. "Chung Kuo", from China another album from 1979 was the bgm (back ground music) for the Mercury Lynx commercials of 1981 and 1982. 1972's French TV documentary L'Apocalypse Des Animaux (Apocalypse of the Animals) soundtrack contains the song "La Petite Fille De La Mer" which is ALSO in 2006's Stranger than Fiction movie and soundtrack. So the music is my connection yet again.
Still, the reason why I titled my post Stranger than Fiction is that along with Elf, Stranger Than Fiction is about the only work from Will Ferrell that I can stand. It proves to me that he is not a one trick, overacting, ham and can actually give a fairly decent performance when directed by someone without SNL ties. The movie is well written, has Emma Thompson and Dustin Hoffman in it and is not a rehash of a remake of a hackneyed story line, it is actually fresh and original. Not to mention that another one of my over two decade old LP purchases "Whole Wide World" by Wreckless Eric is also in the movie and on the soundtrack.
Right now I am listening to one of the 7 Vangelis CD's I own, 1984's Soil Festivities, not a soundtrack, but a great CD.
The tables have turned even though the turntables are in the attic. David Fulton is now a videographer and photographer, and is one of my regular customers.
Blank Canvas, Clean Slate
When I have nothing to say my lips are sealed. Say something once why say it again. The immortal words of David Byrne, from "Psycho Killer", Talking Heads:77. I think that is a wise and astute statement to make. Substitute tips (as in finger) for lips and you have my recent blogging philosophy. Even those that are listening (or reading) want fresh content. Nobody wants drivel for the sake of drivel. Sophistry, meaningless diatribe, pointless convective, that is all available from the political pundits as another election year is just around the corner. Is this why I have been so frequently absent from the ethers of net? No and yes.
When I first started this project on September 28th 2005, I had no direction, I thought I would just try to write something everyday and add colorful imagery. I did that for over a year missing few days. Then routine became, requirement, even though the story being told was what? Enthralling? Amazing? No more often mundane with tiny slices of interest in a pie made mostly of filler. Mostly. Still I could chronicle events of flavor local, regional and sometimes national from a point of view I'm told is different, strange at times and amusing. I soldier on but my day to day recital becomes less all those things with repetition I fear. Nobody comes here to hear the latest in world news, political intrigue or technological advancements. That's not thought that is puked now is it. This a small world sort of placed to visit. My small world My friends, my sphere, likes and dislikes tempered to raise few objections, rankle few feelings or ruffle few feathers. I don't take very many stands, proclaim many ultimate truths or condone or condemn many ideologues. I write about bowling, bars, music and my friends. When I don't go out and do life, I have very little to talk about, I don't much judge, measure, interfere or presuppose to have a better way for others to be or live. I don't even know a better way for myself, I just prattle on about the incidents that make my days less dull, painful or forgettable. I could never say it better than Roger Waters and Pink Floyd in the first two verses of "Time" from Dark Side of the Moon, before the defeatist mood overwhelms the song.
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way. Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town Waiting for someone or something to show you the way. Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain. You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today. And then one day you find ten years have got behind you. No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
When I first started this project on September 28th 2005, I had no direction, I thought I would just try to write something everyday and add colorful imagery. I did that for over a year missing few days. Then routine became, requirement, even though the story being told was what? Enthralling? Amazing? No more often mundane with tiny slices of interest in a pie made mostly of filler. Mostly. Still I could chronicle events of flavor local, regional and sometimes national from a point of view I'm told is different, strange at times and amusing. I soldier on but my day to day recital becomes less all those things with repetition I fear. Nobody comes here to hear the latest in world news, political intrigue or technological advancements. That's not thought that is puked now is it. This a small world sort of placed to visit. My small world My friends, my sphere, likes and dislikes tempered to raise few objections, rankle few feelings or ruffle few feathers. I don't take very many stands, proclaim many ultimate truths or condone or condemn many ideologues. I write about bowling, bars, music and my friends. When I don't go out and do life, I have very little to talk about, I don't much judge, measure, interfere or presuppose to have a better way for others to be or live. I don't even know a better way for myself, I just prattle on about the incidents that make my days less dull, painful or forgettable. I could never say it better than Roger Waters and Pink Floyd in the first two verses of "Time" from Dark Side of the Moon, before the defeatist mood overwhelms the song.
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way. Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town Waiting for someone or something to show you the way. Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain. You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today. And then one day you find ten years have got behind you. No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
Fanfare for Dummies
Festering Gobs, at the12th annual Indy Irish Fest Chuck Pace ©2007
Listening to ''Copland:Fanfare For The Common Man'', by Eugene Ormandy: Philadelphia Orchestra (Play Count: 2)
Yesterday, on my day off I had lofty aspirations, I was going to make the best of the moments given. I baked three tomato pies (one is now gone to fire the generators
FYI: Nobody knows what Travis was doing to Rachel's shirt, he said he was looking for directions, I think he was trying to tuck the dollar I gave him for the tie flash!
Baby Blue
09/17/07 05:52 AM | Permalink
No snooze this time. Face the music, and dance. I sit up on the edge of the bed and the first thought is to grab a sweater, but I decide to let her continue to sleep there under all the covers she purloined during our repose, no wonder I'm so cold. Then again this ain't the Treasure coast of Florida I'm waking to.
I followed the directions on the box, I vacated for vacation. I left the troubles behind, and embraced change. I still have a little change left, but the folding money is sparse I tell ya. Four flights, five different cities or towns, one road-trip stretching 288 miles northwest then back 288 southeast two days later, another trip 36 miles round to one sunburn; two nights at the Indy Irish fest, two nights of fall bowling leagues establishing handicaps, one 50th anniversary celebration... all brought to a grinding halt by Bach's Toccata and Gaston Leroux's Phantom of the Opera as delivered via microchip and mobile communicator.
Thanks to Kay, Ed, Pam, Rich, Rebecca, Travis, Liz and Mel for transitioning me back to my real world. It took three days to do it but I think I'm ready to step off the bus instead of in front of it.
The Suwanee River at Fanning Springs as seen from Southwest return Flight 1257.
The photo above says it all. The red circle above the arrow is my parents place, there is a "slip" that takes you right to the river proper, we went north and west from there to just about where the picture ends on the left side on the pontoon trip. The bridge just above the cloud is the entrance to Fanning Springs and highway 19. I told Jenni that we fly right over the folks place on our way back and she said she thought we'd be over the water. Yes, we were, at 30,000 feet we were over the gulf, but out the right side window is the folks place, so we were both right. If you look closely you can see my dad waving, and my mom there with Bejo on his leash looking for alligators. See them? Wave back, they are really nice.
Wrinkle Creamsicles
Pontooning on the Suwanee River with the 50th Anniversary Revelers,
R to L:Phil Pace, Jenni, Bejo Yorkie, Madge Pace, Charles Atlas, Meredith Pace. Chuck Pace©2007
Vacations go by way too fast, even when there are so many slow moments in them (like 288 mile car trips from So-East FL to No-West FL). Still the break from routine is always welcome, the chance to be outside or beyond the day to day, and in the "what today" mode. As everybody knows the nine to five world goes by pretty quick with only the more memorable moments making any kind of impression. That is why it seems like the years slip by faster the older you get. They don't really, but the wonder of discoveries of our youth or the diversity of new and different experiences are a lot harder to come by as we age, not to mention the consistency of experience of a work-a-day world.
That being said and understood, and I know that you understand, I really do, it is no wonder that the true and memorable wonders come when we are immersed in a foreign environment or a unexpected situation. As much as I like and enjoy my job I wouldn't dream of going in to my work place when I'm on vacation, and hanging out for 8 or 9 hours. Thank goodness my parents got married fifty years ago this week, besides Dennis and I being 'Old Bastards' if they hadn't, I would not have had this new and rewarding set of wrinkles added to my brain. My routine has only once before had a parental 50th anniversary event, and that was Jenni's parents on on Christmas day 2005 in Tennessee, way different wrinkles, memories and notable timeline additions. I could not tell you what I did a week before or a week after that milestone memory mark, but that is of course the point of this discourse.
Locals fishing in the surf, Jupiter Beach Florida.
First Leg Over the Next
Southwest flights take off from Tampa Airport about every 12 minutes.
2:07 p.m. Jenni and I are on the ground at Tampa airport (TPA), and don't leave for over 2 hours. Our connection flight to West
Palm Beach (PBI) leaves at 4:35. The Southwest flight from Indianapolis was notable only in it's total lack of intrigue, problem or hassle. The most interesting part of the journey so far was prior to our check in running into
Chris West on concourse C waiting for his best friend to arrive from Texas. I told him that I had mentioned him in my post earlier this morning for my near injury experience. (Do not cross at the light Carol Ann, all are not welcome). We talked for a few minutes, then his party arrived with a 12 lb. Maltese pooch in a screened in travel case. They were off like a shot, leaving behind an unused bottle of water.
Smokers Cage. Luminati and Glass Wall Junction hardware at TPA. Chuck Pace ©2007
Here at the TPA with time to K I L L I have been enjoying the modern and wonderful architecture of the facility. I have heard several pages for Suzanne Lucci, and one for Rebecca Campbell. I wondered if someone was trying to get info on a camera repair from our Becky at Roberts about 1080 miles from where we are seated right now. I called her but she said they would have to call the store.
I have killed over forty minutes and have had a bottle of vasa water and a Nathan's chili dog for $ 6.00. What a bargain.
A tyke scampers on the wall around the play center, thirty foot ceilings and lots of glass make the terminal bright and open. My photo reconnaissance yielded several nice shots and got me to 3:40 now there is less than an hour to kill, and we will be on the ground in West Palm by 5:10 45 minutes door to door, so to speak.
Sky Captain and the Anniversary of Tomorrow
In under 4 hours Jenni and I will be looking down on all you people in Indy. Not with an air of superiority or smugness, but with airline tickets in hand and Florida in our future. This weekend is the 50th wedding Anniversary for Phil and Madge Pace, and since they are my parents I feel inclined to be there with both wife and daughter. Meredith (the daughter of record) is picking us up at West Palm Beach Airport a little after 5 p.m.. From there it a trip to Meredith Arms resort Apartment and luxury flop-house in Sunny Stuart Florida. To be followed by a whirlwind tour of the Florida Turnpike north to Chiefland, Fanning Springs and historic Old Town on the Suwanee River (it's way down upon the Suwanee, to see my Mammy, far far away). I go with hope and joy, I go to rest and recuperate. I go with Jenni. I go to celebrate.
I leave with celebration already practiced last night as the Mighty Colts opened the season as the Champions and gave a championship performance in front of the entire nation. They are undefeated, defensively strong, offensively awesome and on their way. Several times during the pre-game and game I had tears of pride and joy in my eyes (I wasn't washing the dishes, I'm talking happiness here people not accident!) The Colts racked up over 440 of offense and barely allowed 200 from last years most potent offense, Deuce and Reggie (Bush) both managed to rush for 39 yards each, while the defense caused 1 fumble take away, and picked two Drew spirals from the friendly domed skies. One by Giordano for an 83 yard TD untouched for the teams final score bring the total to 41 points after Adam V. split the uprights for the 7th time that night tacking on the extra point (two FG's, 5 Extra points).
I celebrate my good and bad fortune before I go. Yesterday I got closer to being full-on ChrisWested when a "fan" failed to stop at the intersection of South and Meridian as I was walking back from a love lunch at Arby's with the missus. The party atmosphere, the crowds revving up for the nights NFL opening event and the (not too distracting) distractions of traffic lights and pedestrians got me an exclusive ride on the hood of a burgundy Ford Taurus, as a motorist looking out the side window gathered me with his bumper and bonnet while I was crossing to the light and delight of my illuminated traffic icon. I felt I was o.k. I thought I was o.k. but later my hand swelled up some and my eternally aching ankles were infernally aching again. After the impact and the Yo-yo hop back to the street I was asked if I was alright by the shocked interloper of lane, I said, "I think so", was flexing my hand and asked if the hand was o.k., I said again "I think so", then thrice like Beetlejuice was asked if I was o.k. I think I may have wowed the man with my eloquence when I said, "I think so". So moved by my soliloquy was he that he joyously depressed accelerator pedal and completed the much desired running of the light (running of the Bulls? Taurus?) and was gone from my life forever. I didn't get license plate again or address to exchange holiday mail, and on a decided adrenaline rush walked back to the store. An hour later I was on the Post Adrenal Depression Blues, and I didn't even have a harmonica to mark the occasion.
I report today that I am 100% Chuck, no fillers, no artificial sweeteners (artifice) no added aches, pains or ... Um. Where was I. So I think the Colts played yesterday... Oh, or memory loss or loss of Concentration (hosted by Art Fleming, see I still have it, at least until they find a cure).
O.K. so I think I have to finish packing, where are we going again? I still have that bounce in my step, I just need the boost that only Adrenaline and Ford can provide. Have You Ridden a Ford Lately?
I leave with celebration already practiced last night as the Mighty Colts opened the season as the Champions and gave a championship performance in front of the entire nation. They are undefeated, defensively strong, offensively awesome and on their way. Several times during the pre-game and game I had tears of pride and joy in my eyes (I wasn't washing the dishes, I'm talking happiness here people not accident!) The Colts racked up over 440 of offense and barely allowed 200 from last years most potent offense, Deuce and Reggie (Bush) both managed to rush for 39 yards each, while the defense caused 1 fumble take away, and picked two Drew spirals from the friendly domed skies. One by Giordano for an 83 yard TD untouched for the teams final score bring the total to 41 points after Adam V. split the uprights for the 7th time that night tacking on the extra point (two FG's, 5 Extra points).
I celebrate my good and bad fortune before I go. Yesterday I got closer to being full-on ChrisWested when a "fan" failed to stop at the intersection of South and Meridian as I was walking back from a love lunch at Arby's with the missus. The party atmosphere, the crowds revving up for the nights NFL opening event and the (not too distracting) distractions of traffic lights and pedestrians got me an exclusive ride on the hood of a burgundy Ford Taurus, as a motorist looking out the side window gathered me with his bumper and bonnet while I was crossing to the light and delight of my illuminated traffic icon. I felt I was o.k. I thought I was o.k. but later my hand swelled up some and my eternally aching ankles were infernally aching again. After the impact and the Yo-yo hop back to the street I was asked if I was alright by the shocked interloper of lane, I said, "I think so", was flexing my hand and asked if the hand was o.k., I said again "I think so", then thrice like Beetlejuice was asked if I was o.k. I think I may have wowed the man with my eloquence when I said, "I think so". So moved by my soliloquy was he that he joyously depressed accelerator pedal and completed the much desired running of the light (running of the Bulls? Taurus?) and was gone from my life forever. I didn't get license plate again or address to exchange holiday mail, and on a decided adrenaline rush walked back to the store. An hour later I was on the Post Adrenal Depression Blues, and I didn't even have a harmonica to mark the occasion.
I report today that I am 100% Chuck, no fillers, no artificial sweeteners (artifice) no added aches, pains or ... Um. Where was I. So I think the Colts played yesterday... Oh, or memory loss or loss of Concentration (hosted by Art Fleming, see I still have it, at least until they find a cure).
O.K. so I think I have to finish packing, where are we going again? I still have that bounce in my step, I just need the boost that only Adrenaline and Ford can provide. Have You Ridden a Ford Lately?
A Long Short Week
Time. I have less in front of me this week than most weeks. Why you may ask? Silver Bird. O.K. Maybe White Bird, Maybe different color bird, I don't yet know. It is a Southwest Bird, but not a roadrunner, no definitely not a roadrunner, that was the other option, the one that couldn't be afforded. Ding! Your are Free to move about the country. (Free is not what you are).
Do I ramble?
I wander?
No in something around 77 hours I will take to the sky. Destination Moon, oh that is a the B-52's song I just heard, no my (and Jenni's)destination West Palm Beach Airport Florida. The occasion, vacation celebration relaxation and possibly resuscitation. My parents 50th wedding anniversary. My daughters new lodgings, my escape from routine which I routinely have to do, this is the mission. So Meredith is picking us up in West Palm, driving us to Stuart and showing off her new digs. Then we drive 170 miles to Old Town on the Suwanee River for the milestone 50th anniversary, from there the intenerary is an open book, not even the sky is the limit. The only governing body to our bodies is moolah of which we have scarcely any.
What will, befall our intrepid travelers? Tune in and see on an all new episode of (Get) LOST.
Have laptop will travel, Hot spots get me to the hot spots.
Do I ramble?
I wander?
No in something around 77 hours I will take to the sky. Destination Moon, oh that is a the B-52's song I just heard, no my (and Jenni's)destination West Palm Beach Airport Florida. The occasion, vacation celebration relaxation and possibly resuscitation. My parents 50th wedding anniversary. My daughters new lodgings, my escape from routine which I routinely have to do, this is the mission. So Meredith is picking us up in West Palm, driving us to Stuart and showing off her new digs. Then we drive 170 miles to Old Town on the Suwanee River for the milestone 50th anniversary, from there the intenerary is an open book, not even the sky is the limit. The only governing body to our bodies is moolah of which we have scarcely any.
What will, befall our intrepid travelers? Tune in and see on an all new episode of (Get) LOST.
Have laptop will travel, Hot spots get me to the hot spots.
Three Day Weekend
Time. I have more in front of me today than most weekends. What will I do with this bounty of sweeps, ticks, tock and circuits? Well if money were no object (which of course it is and it finds my company objectionable of late) there would be no end to the mirth or mischief I could partake in. Today is the final day of the live theatre Fringefest on Mass Ave., there are 5 buck movies at the cinemaplex, there's terrific weather all about and lots of places begging to be road-tripped to. So many places so little Franklin's for Pace's,
Yesterday I decided to stumble into the garage to straighten and put some tools away. That was a about 10:30. I took everything out of the left side, painted, trashed, swept (several times) built shelves, modified shelves, hung old license plates over the inside of the garage door; something my Great Uncle Curt used to do, he started with plates from Indiana dating back to 1906 or 1909, when they were just like boat tags. The State issued you numbers and made your own. When I was about ten I saw his collection covering an entire wall in his house, he had every year represented and multiples of some, and had started a collection of other states as well. I have plates back to 1992 the second year we were in the house, and with the 4 year sticker deal there are year gaps... Oh, just like putting away tools I have wandered off in a tangent.
In my labors I didn't really eat anything yesterday until 2:36 AM (this morning technically), just toiled away, occasionally doing small outside (the garage) errands like mowing, and watering the garden, but mostly just getting dirty and losing all sense of time and need. At some point around 5PM I had a Jello snack bowl with fruits (about the size of a fist), and a cherry tomato. Today it is about 10:40 again and I will be continuing my toils in garagiva, I will head out there to lose all sense (should I just stop there) of time again after I finish the biscuits and gravy Jenni has brought me. There will be another break when I fire up the grill in the perfect pre-laborday weather. There are no pictures, and less than their thousand word equivalency here so imagine if you will. The theme music starts, Do de do do, do de do do starts, A stopwatch whizzes by, then a door in a frame tumbles past opening just as it recedes to a vanishing point..
"You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's a signpost up ahead- your next stop, The Twilight Zone!"
One of the many introductions to the series which began in 1959, there were three others in the original series, and the most recent permutation with Forrest Whitaker (which started in 2002) has a very similar opening to the one I just used. Replacing the That's a signpost up ahead- your next stop, with You're entering...
Yesterday I decided to stumble into the garage to straighten and put some tools away. That was a about 10:30. I took everything out of the left side, painted, trashed, swept (several times) built shelves, modified shelves, hung old license plates over the inside of the garage door; something my Great Uncle Curt used to do, he started with plates from Indiana dating back to 1906 or 1909, when they were just like boat tags. The State issued you numbers and made your own. When I was about ten I saw his collection covering an entire wall in his house, he had every year represented and multiples of some, and had started a collection of other states as well. I have plates back to 1992 the second year we were in the house, and with the 4 year sticker deal there are year gaps... Oh, just like putting away tools I have wandered off in a tangent.
In my labors I didn't really eat anything yesterday until 2:36 AM (this morning technically), just toiled away, occasionally doing small outside (the garage) errands like mowing, and watering the garden, but mostly just getting dirty and losing all sense of time and need. At some point around 5PM I had a Jello snack bowl with fruits (about the size of a fist), and a cherry tomato. Today it is about 10:40 again and I will be continuing my toils in garagiva, I will head out there to lose all sense (should I just stop there) of time again after I finish the biscuits and gravy Jenni has brought me. There will be another break when I fire up the grill in the perfect pre-laborday weather. There are no pictures, and less than their thousand word equivalency here so imagine if you will. The theme music starts, Do de do do, do de do do starts, A stopwatch whizzes by, then a door in a frame tumbles past opening just as it recedes to a vanishing point..
"You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's a signpost up ahead- your next stop, The Twilight Zone!"