Arm Chair Trucking

Saturday morning, a good time for reflection, if you are lucky, maybe even you are allowed to sleep in and lay in the rack for awhile. That is always something that seems to appeal to me. Haven’t checked the weather, might be a good day to be outside. A good deal to steal away, to a familiar spot … Sit in my well worn, recliner, close my eyes and take a nap.

All great achievers do that from time to time.

Watch my neighbor scoot around his front yard on his rear, with a knife, a bucket, pulling weeds by hand, because he is too tight or stingy to spring for some weed killer. I am known affectionately in some circles by my “low maintenance outlook towards life” no brag, just plain fact, I can waste away a day with the best of them. But this is NOT my idea of what to do with a day, pulling weeds and scooting around a yard on my rear with a bucket. Just not gonna happen.

I digress, I am not supposed to think along non-productive lines of thought, I am trying to be more positive, so I am gonna go back to the other thing.

Had lunch with my buddy this week, and he and his wife are contemplating a drive to the westcoast to visit Yosemite National Park, might throw in the Grand Canyon for good measure, it is after all, “on the way.” Even with the apparent disadvantages of travel by automobile, high fuel and all that, they are contemplating doing this. Which could be a good idea, with the way things are heading these days, trips like this, could be a thing of the past very soon.

If you have never experienced Yosemite National Park, there is a good shot of the valley on Jon Taplins’ webpage, http://jtaplin.wordpress.com/ and some good reading. I go there all the time. His main page has a shot of the entire length of the valley of the park, you arrive at this point by taking the Fresno entrance at the south end.

For the most part, me and the miss’us are going to be locked down here in the heartland until at least September. So any traveling I do will have to be “armchair traveling, wistful thinking sitting on the porch with the sun in my face and the noise of man.”

Taking a trip without luggage is what I call it.

Today might be a good day to spend in the California Sierra’s, to travel the paths and mountain trails of my mind, that rich ground that has been my staid companion for years and years, an imaginary trip thru time to another place. To be in a place that is quiet, serene, which has a sun-washed emptiness about it, but exciting to think of. The mere thought of walking amongst nature and exploring excites my soul.

The smells, sights, new sounds all working in concert to make my day. Hapless romantic or just a plain old dreamer. Who knows? Allowing this childish curiosity to continue on through my adult life gives me satisfaction in the tedium enforced perimeters of my home, my living room, where not much “actual living” occurs. Most of the “adventure in my life, sadly has taken place” and this is what I am relegated to in my senior years.

One of the few things that I have left in life is my rich imagination, and I never want to lose it. It’s cheap. It’s free. It stimulates my brain (and maybe even a sense of real meaning sneaks in from time to time). It allows for simple pleasures. My mind paints a picture of time that never gets stale.

As the poet says, “I don’t ever want to lose the wonder.”

No matter how old I get, I have the feeling that if I can keep this curiosity flame lit, I’ll see the world in a much different way. It is truly a good thing: It also gets me a long way down the well beaten path on less than a gallon (all you really need is a comfortable chair and a cup of luke warm coffee). It also seems to be about the only cheap, inexpensive stimulus I can actually afford these days.

Have a great weekend …

***

You Suck

You Suck. You are the worst writer I ever read!” Now like MasterCard sez, “isn’t that priceless?” Another fan has been located; stick a bright red pin in the map.

I get a little uncomfortable with the label “writer.” A writer knows all about verbs, nouns, sentence structure, paragraphs, all that other organization/compilation of the English language stuff.

A writer knows (or is supposed to know) how to do this in the correct fashion. Me? I am a hack, I just hammer it out, and that is about it. I am a “writers” absolute worst nightmare.

Bottom line (as if anyone really cared) I am a story teller … Never have really considered myself a writer.

So I guess that should be: “You are the worst STORY TELLER I have ever read.” That might be closer to the truth.

Life despite it all,
is still being good to me,
I can still maintain a healthy outlook on things in general.
Unfortunately,
I have suddenly discovered I suck
Exactly why no one knows.
And I am somewhat miserable
I suppose just flat outta luck.

I cannot complain,
I am doing alright.
My lawnmower still starts on the first crank
Bills are paid
Have money in the bank

Rest is available to me when I need it.
My health is improving.
Still have my cake,
but because of Diabetes,
I can no longer eat it.

That is how it often goes.
First your money and then your clothes.

“You Suck. You are the worst writer I ever read!”
Now like MasterCard sez, “isn’t that priceless?”  Another fan has been located; stick a bright red pin in the map.

This bozo probably wouldn’t recognize good writing if someone handed it to him on a business card.

***