End Of The Month

Stick a fork in this one … It is done!

End of another month, time is on the run.  Tonight is trick or treat night here in the Heartland.  Still reeling from last years Halloween.  Last year, when we invested all our money in a pumpkin farm, then the govt. called off Halloween! Right now, I kind of figure, it is more prudent to just stayed holed up.

So here you are, all of you senior Trick or Treaters in the spirit of David Letterman:

“How you know you are too old to Trick or Treat.”

10. You get winded from knocking on the door.
9.  You have to have another kid chew the candy for you.
8.  You ask for high fiber candy only.
7.  When someone drops a candy bar in your bag, you lose your balance and fall over.
6.  People say: ‘Great Boris Karloff Mask. And you’re not wearing a mask.
5.  When the door opens you yell, ‘Trick or… And can’t remember the rest.
4.  By the end of the night, you have a bag full of restraining orders.
3.  You have to carefully choose a costume that won’t dislodge your hairpiece.
2.  You’re the only Power Ranger in the neighborhood with a walker.

And the number one reason Seniors should not go Trick Or Treating…

1.  You keep having to go home to pee.

(Better luck next year.)


SOMEWHAT RELATED:  All Saints Hollow

C’mon Weekend

This past week was a pretty good week, all in all. Most of it was pleasant and positive in nature, and that always helps. Did get some pretty negative stuff over a couple days about mid-week, but it wasn’t anything that could not be handled. Especially if you are a kind, generous, and the wonderfully sensitive guy like I is.

A few detractors, I call them “non-fans” but that is no big deal either. If you chum the waters, you have to expect to find some sharks showing up from time to time. A long week, some of it good and some of it, not so good.

On the downside (there is always a downside), I hate answering negative emails, and they drive me up the proverbial wall.

Two in particular really have been weighing heavily on my mind. They addressed the loss of a long time friend, and another was a spouse, these are the types of emails I just cannot bear to answer.

Interesting week … Life is not measured by the numbers of breath we take … but rather … By the moments that take our breath away. I guess it would all be rather boring, slow and mundane, if everything went the way WE wanted it to.

It would be nice to receive something uplifting and positive in nature every now and then, something like: No two snowflakes are exactly alike. All snowflakes start out the same: as a hexagonal crystal formed on a single particle of dust. As it falls through a cloud, the flake begins to change shape dramatically from the cold and moisture inside the cloud, building on itself in a complex pattern. The only way you could have two identical snowflakes would be if they followed the exact same pattern as they fell through the sky … which they don’t.

It is the same with people.

No two people are exactly the same. You are totally unique and different from all those folks who surround you each day. What makes you special is: “When I am around you, I feel more intellectually challenged. Thank you for that. When I am around you I come alive, feel inspired, and have fun. You have that uncanny characteristic that just naturally seems to bring about the best in people; those who you come in contact with definitely are rewarded by your presence. Thanks for having such a great impact on me.”

Next time you get a “downer email” send something positive and uplifting back …. Something simple and to the point … Just tell ‘em …. “Thank You for being so dog-gone special” ….. Yeah that would be okay, that would be just fine.

Life …. What happens when you are not looking.


I’m Sexy And I know It

As the week moves slowly towards the weekend, I am once again, thankful.  If there was no such thing as a weekend, I do believe, I would have to invent it.  It has been just that kind of week for me, and I am ready for some rest.

Today was a bad day, medicine that the doctor has ordered for me makes me ill, sometimes the cure is worse than the disease it seems.  It makes me nauseous, dizzy and one of the ill side effects is explosive diarrhea … which translates to slick, slicker and get the hell out of my way!

Today was as I said, a bad day for all of it.  I guess this is why they refer to it as “practicing medicine.” 

They are going to get it right one way or the other.

On another health related issue, I am reading where if you sleep with your pets, that this could be a bad move on your part.  They have discovered that people who sleep with their pets in bed are generally speaking, less healthy than those who do not.

Your pet will bring other parasites to bed, fleas, ticks, other small creepy things that crawl in the night and they in turn bite you and transfer the illness to you.  (And here I sat, thinking I would not have anything appropriate or scary for Halloween this year)

So Lassie or Fluffy could be (unwillingly) passing onto you bad health in their nocturnal visits to your last sanctuary of rest.  It would seem that Man ‘s Best Friend, could be just a tad less than that, if you sleep with him.  Taking this all one step further (as I often prone to do) I guess long wet kisses directly on the mouth are out of question too.

Cat Lovers unfortunately are not much better off.

All of you internet folks who have cats are not immune or safe.  Now you have something else to worry about other than the occasional hairball.  Funny how things work out isn’t it?  All those times, when my Daddy admonished me, “Son, if you lie down and sleep with a dog, you are going to get up smelling like one.”  Turns out he was ahead of his time (in dog years I suppose) and right as rain.  Been one of those weeks, like I said, “Glad it is almost the weekend.”

I went to the barbershop yesterday and they had a sign in the window and it read:  “You can have sexy hair, for $13.99.”  So the girl said, “What will it be today?” and I mentioned the sign in the window and she smiled and said, “Yeah, that is funny isn’t it?”  So I told her, “Take it off the ears, block it in back and leave the top alone.”  (Don’t want anyone messing with the two hairs that I have left up there).

I don’t care what she says, “There is something deep in my DNA that tells me I that am too sexy for my height … some of us have it and some of us don’t”   Friday in the country, I am now $13.99 ahead of the game … like a sheep ready for the slaughter, freshly shorn and ready for the weekend, I eagerly await my fate with great anticipation.

See Y’all on Monday … (Okie Talk)




Your beauty haunts me
standing there in front of the Christmas tree
such a portrait of loveliness
in your own special way.

In your endeavors
Will you allow me the pleasure
The moment to savor
To treasure.

All the wonderful things you must be.

Permit me to reach down
And wipe the tears from your eyes
To lay your beautiful body
Warmly against my side

Allow me the pleasure
to experience your grace, beauty and charm
If only to treasure
The memory of all the good times
We could have shared together

I guess on certain fall days
Chilled by the winds of time
A man’s heart just naturally strays
As it is lifted up and carried away
To lighter
More pleasant things.

What does it matter how many lovers you have if none of them gives you the universe?
Jacques Lacan


Making The Grade In The Big Apple

Here you go, another public indictment against “public education.”  Or as my old friend Brownie used to say …. “Edumaycashun.”  Geographically speaking, you get the drift, dontcha?

This week I am reading where they are telling cab drivers in New York that they will fine them $350 for honking their horns unnecessarily.  Which I agree with completely, we need far less noise in this world we all live in.

Now here is something that is not good news. The powers that be in New York City have decided that grading papers in public is not a good idea.  They are telling teachers that they cannot grade papers in public and that sucks (for lack of a better word).  Which I do NOT agree with at all.

My English teacher in high school was Mrs. McGee, a nice personable, kind woman of great patience.  She deserved much more in life, than the white pasty faced kid who never seemed to get it or could pay attention.  She taught me all the things that my parents didn’t have time to do, she did it cheerfully and often with great reserve.

We had our moments, Mrs. McGee and I.

I am sure if she were around today and could see and read Creative Endeavors she would be proud of where it is that I have come in life.  (We might not be much in the world of publishing and all that … But baby, we are all we got.)  Her influence and her steady hand can be found within the pages of this website just about anywhere you look.  She helped to shape, mold and guide me thru my youth and most importantly … She taught me a thing or two.

New York City for lack of something “important to do” this week sic’ed (sp) cops on teachers grading papers in public and asked them to stop  the practice.  As cops are prone to do when called, they showed up and asked the teachers to move on. Which I find not only personally disturbing but outright disgusting.  With a mountain of problems in this city, this is what they find important and harmful to the public good?  How warped is this?  (comments section is open take a shot at it, three guesses, the first two don’t count).

You can read about it here.

It appears that “public places in New York City” are no longer just that … public.  No matter that they have signs of protest or whatever, we are being overloaded everyday with “so-called societal rules of behavior.”  As quickly as a surgeon with a sharp knife, one more freedom is removed from the fabric of our lives.  This is just another example of it.  Each day in this country, our treasured freedoms seem to be falling by the wayside in the name of security or the common good.  Where it will end is anyone’s guess.

What possible harm could come from a small group of people quietly sitting and grading papers in a public arena.

Grading papers in public isn’t that big of a deal to me, it should be allowed and there should not be a second thought about it.  Now changing out a baby diaper in the booth next to me at Denny’s … That should be addressed quickly and firmly … but this?  I say leave the teachers alone.

One of the things Mrs. McGee taught me was this:  “The more you find out about the world, the more opportunities there are to laugh at it.”  But this, leaning on teachers for nothing more than grading papers in public is just not funny.  If New York City is setting the stage for the rest of the country, then I say it is time to stop the bus … I need to get off.


Tuesday Morning Meltdown

“So tell me” the voice in my head asks, “are you living a life of meaning?”

“Oh please,” I thought, give me a break; I reach for my coffee, something to give me pause for contemplation, to relieve the moment.

Again the voice in my head says “If it should all end tomorrow, and you don’t wake up to face the day, will this have been a life that meant something? Have you made your mark in this world; have you left anything to score your passing?” Early morning meditations on questions great and small.

Quiet reflecting on the transitions in this life, and expectations of what is to come. What are my new core values, what exactly is the good life that I seek with complete abandon, and most importantly, “Will I discover it before the end of this year?”

Age old questions I suppose.

Tuesday morning, this is me, in the flesh. Waking up to a brand new day and finding that what had once given meaning to my life, was now as stale and as tasteless as a cup of three-minute, micro-waved coffee from yesterday’s pot. No matter how much sweetener you put in it, it just doesn’t quite measure up.

I would like to lay my head on the pillow some night and in my dream, take a pin and pitch it towards a map. And it would land on a town in California, in the San Joaquin Valley, maybe Manteca or Modesto. And I would sell this house here in the Extreme Weather Capitol of the United States and move to my little farm in the valley, not far from San Francisco.

Ideally, I would have a new house, a pond full of fish, some crappie a few wide mouth bass. A dozen or so chickens, maybe a few of those pasty-white faced Herefords, the cattle with the sad, angelic faces, on a couple of hundred acres under the California sun.

It would be so nice, to lay down in the dark, listen to the whirl of the fan beside the bed, and reach into the darkness for the answers. This is typical of me, my life, always searching in the most ridiculous place for the seemingly impracticable answers from an impossible source.

Reaching into the dark and pulling out an answer, not knowing what is coming next, can be a pleasant state if you trust it. The difficulty is that you have to keep trusting it even when there’s no evidence that it’s working. Unfortunately, much like last night, the end result is often what I call “nuisance dreaming” not quite a nightmare, perhaps an unfinished subconscious reflection of my current condition.

Today I will visit my hammock and for a short while sleep peacefully in the shank of the afternoon, my sweet release, when everything is supposed to disappear for a little while.

Sometimes it does, and often, it does not.