Creative Endeavors, The Home of BoxcarOkie.com

March 25, 2009

Hard Wired For Change

wired-for-change

“I don’t believe I understand everything that I think that I supposedly heard about what I thought he said, that concerned me, or my spousal unit.”  But I did watch.

President Obama was speaking for forty minutes last night, and then afterwards, some dummy tells me what it was he said, for thirty more.  I never will understand that, it is as if we don’t not have the capacity as citizens to understand what is being spoken?

We seem to be hung up on this banking thing and the rest of it is awash, makes me wonder what happened to T.Boone Pickens, that guy sure disappeared fast didn’t he?  What about the mess in Afghanistan, the shortage of resources, energy problems, distribution problems, did they get the puppy yet?

Today the Internet will be alive with all the armchair critic’s who have it all figured out, who have all the answers, who know not only what day it is, but what page we seem to be on.  Must be nice.  I know that I saw it on television, it might have even been on FOX, come to think of it.  FOX is television, right?  But I do not assume to know the answers, not by any stretch of the imagination.

Not many answers, certainly the questions remain.  We are critically short of hero’s anymore, not a fresh face on the horizon that I can see.  Okay, this is what, the third or fourth time?  I think I got it.

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Yesterday I had lunch with a friend of mine.

My buddy said that “I am no longer a hunk.  That I need to get used to it.”  And I suppose, to some extent, he is right.  I am no longer the poster boy for the male or human race, I am not going to win the award for “Sexiest Man Alive” or something like that.  But on the same token, I am not all that ready to throw in the towel, and give up on it completely.

That is the problem, the body is no longer showing up for work, but the mind still thinks it is in the running and therefore, the rub.  It could be the fact that I am in love with a waitress that doesn’t even know my name, I dunno.  I know this …… I don’t like it.  Aging and growing older sucks.

I am not going gracefully into the sunset of my life, nor will I age like a fine old bottle of wine.

It has been one of those weeks, and the sad part is that the week for the most part is only half over.  Not long ago, someone tried unsuccessfully to hack into my bank account, so I dutifully notified my bank, Chase, that someone was up to no good and provided them the details.  They in turn never responded to my email nor did they contact me.  Why?  Pretty simple really, the crooks were after MY MONEY not theirs, so therefore, it wasn’t all that important.

This week, having the audacity to believe that things in the business world had improved, I decided to upgrade to a better credit card.  Simple business transaction, handled by more than a competent banker, on THEIR SYSTEM and nothing out of the ordinary.

Now I am entering into my third day of dealing with “fraud prevention” and getting this thing authorized and back into good working order, because some dork in Chicago doesn’t understand or speak ENGLISH and it is all ****ed up!

So here I sit, middle of the week, everything is so messed up I don’t know whether to wind my butt or scratch my watch.

I have laundry to run, email backed up, woman says shag over to China Mart for some vacuum cleaner bags, a computer at Dell.com that is being built and a PayPal that doesn’t recognize the NEW CARD, two inkers out of ink, one tire out of balance on the truck, and we are flat-out of pet food.

Rather than face the reality of it … I sit around and dream of having a one night stand with my best friends’ baby sister, even tho’ I understand now that I am no longer considered a hunk.

Middle of the week and there is no end in sight.  Half-eaten bag of ranch flavored corn nuts and not much on the plate for the future.  I took my old guitar down to Cash America and pawned it to buy some gasoline.  Took a swing at my best friend in the parking lot for suggesting that I was over the hill, spent and used up.  If I had a dime for everything that didn’t make sense at all, I surely would be living the good life, but I am not.

Situation normal.

On top of all this … The lunch left me with an undercurrent of pigginess (and) unexpected fantasies of convergence and inter-species metamorphoses began to flicker into my consciousness.  Was it the Soy Sauce or was it her?  It was silent in the small restaurant; silent except for the occasional cellphone ring and the pounding of the old mans’ heart in his throat.

The day had started beautifully, and was looking like it would end the same way, but now suddenly,  it wasn’t looking so good, the ship of state was starting to rock, we were going down.

He sat in his booth and slowly, almost methodically studied the waitress  She was a beautiful young Asian girl (about 42 or 44 years of age … Hey?  This is MY fantasy, you want younger women, go write your own!), a shapely young thing with a body that was just beginning to slow itself, and she knew that her customers liked to look at her.

It was then that the old familiar stirrings deep inside reminded him that he was no longer a hunk and he needed to get a life.

Another 900 word dirge from a orotund semi-spent geezer in the Heartland, Wednesday, Hump Day for a five day wage slave in Oklahoma. Pass me a couple of them egg rolls … I will take ‘em to go.

OOO

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