Running Down The Trash

I am in here today searching for a story and I have evidently lost it. Well, those who know me personally will tell you “I lost it a long time ago” but we are talking about the story. It was a nice slice of life, I gave it birth, I gave it a name, and I evidently killed it because it is nowhere to be found. I hate it when that happens.

Stories are like your babies, you nurture them, shape them and polish them, then you trot them out in public and hopefully everything goes well. It bothers you when you lose one like that. I often feel as if a small piece of me is lost, that it has been stolen from me. Today, because I didn’t do a save, it is lost, it is gone.

“Has anyone ever stolen something from you?.”

Pretty heavy stuff I have to admit. Real head scratcher that one. Now if that doesn’t give your “writers block” (and a headache) nothing will. In case you are wondering, yes, it was my Vinyl record collection of “Lawrence Welk Does Woodstock” it was priceless to me. Over the years I have lost some big ticket items. Occasionally, something is pilfered or stolen from me, which I do not care for.

Back in ’87 or ’88, I remember going to the State Fair, and someone absconded with my automobile, now that, was somewhat traumatic. We walked up to this empty space in the middle of this huge parking lot, and the wife sez …. “Where’s the car?” and I point to the empty hole (that at one time had contained my automobile that I just owed four more payments on) and I said ….. “Right there.” Then she says ….. “There isn’t anything there Don.” That was one of those …. My barn having burned down I can clearly now see the moon kind of life moments …. I guess you had to be there to understand.

So many questions in today’s world, and not enough time. Yeah, there is something that has been stolen from all of us, time.

Hopefully, this will be a letter perfect day for me. March makes it especially hard, a windy month on the plains. The wind has picked up the trash container, effectively emptying about 50% of the contents of same into the street, and is now blowing it towards Bob’s house. I like it here … I like it here … You dog-gone rights, I like it here! (This will teach you to install a window in your office!)

Ironic isn’t it.

Things seldom work out the way you have them planned. I had always thought upon my retirement that I would buy a motorhome and go to California, live on a river in the gold bearing areas of the state, and during the daylight and summer hours, dredge the bottom of some river or creek bed for gold.

The San Joaquin, Tuolumne Rivers would work, in the foothills of the Sierra’s. In the cool of the afternoon, we might find me sitting around thinking about profitable gold dredging techniques and untold riches stored in a Once A Day Vitamin jar.

No cell phone, pager, Email, just me an the miss’es, that old dog, a big fuel sucking Motorhome with “Driving Miss Lazy” lettered on the back and lots of chrome. Every testosterone loving sons’ American Dream.

It just naturally appealed to me, the adventure factor being there, the life and the time available to do what it is that you wanted to do. Thoughts of the Golden State of California, exciting, interesting things to do, and where to do it. Unfortunately, things did not work out, and it is just a careless fantasy now, but it was at one time, a dream.

In reality I got what I least expected ….. Running down bits and pieces of the trash of man, which have come out of my very own Big Blue container in Okie City, Oklahoma, in a brisk March wind.

Funny how things seem to never work out huh?


Tree Hugger

Hey! Who put that “User” thing on my account … The 60’s were good to me, no doubt about that. But all the circulars down at the Post Office as far as I know have been taken down … I am squeaky clean.

It reached a point where the ambulances showing up regularly in the middle of the night became a nuisance. Neighbors started complaining … The wife said that all these guys in the living room in the middle of the night yelling 1-2-3 … Clear! Was waking up the baby, so I cleaned up my act. Now, except for an occasional delusion I seem to be doing alright. I am no longer a user, trust me.

As I understand it, drugs have been around for hundred’s and hundred’s of years. They say the Inca’s did drugs. I guess that explains why they were building runways for UFO’s down there. Tonight on Eli Stone, that new show on ABC, they were playing that song, “Who will stop the rain?” and that practically projected me back in time to a semi-conscious drug induced chemically induced stupor right there.

That is a cool song, and a good TV show.

California has just announced that they are going to establish and build roads in National Forests in the Golden State. This to improve logging and to drill for new energy sources, which reminds me, seen an oil rig in the Ponderosa Pines lately?

I guess Ex-Gov. Gray Davis was right when he said: “My vision is to make this the most diverse state on Earth, and we have people from every planet on Earth in this state.”

Check please.

Have a nice weekend, or the legal equivalent if that is still possible.