Do You Believe in Angels?

I do. Who knows who that stranger may be standing next to you. The one you may help with a small favor, or the one who just happens to be there when you need help or are in trouble.

I pulled into my driveway after the funeral to grab a quick bite to eat before returning to work. I saw a mini van type vehicle parked on the side of the road in front of where I live. It was an older couple. As I passed by the man approached me, telling me he had run out of gas, and could I tell him where the closest gas station was.

I asked him if he intended to walk there as it was about a mile or so away on the border of the next town. I was really hungry and wanted to check my mail/email and stuff. I wanted to be selfish, but if it were me, I'd like someone to help. I grabbed a gas can from the barn around back and gave him a ride to the Shell station. I can't recall his name, but he seemed very friendly, and spoke with a slight accent. I guessed German and was correct. Hooray for me! He told me he and his wife, (who was Asian) were from Canada and were visiting family in the area.

I dropped him back at his vehicle. He and his wife thanked me, but as I turned around both of them and the car were gone. I didn't even hear it drive away. They couldn't have left so quickly. The hair on my arms, for the lack there of on my head, stood up. I got a little shaky...............................










OK...................ya got me. That last part was complete and utter horse shit! The rest of it was TRUE though. I'm not sayin' they were angels but ya never know. I'd much rather help an angel than a demon. I'm not inferring that we help people just because there's the possibility they could actually be an angel, and may smite us if we don't help. I'm just sayin'..............

It was a good day. The weather was nice. I got to say good buy to Mrs. Shropshire, and remember Martha. Hey I even got to help some old German dude from Canada, and his Asian wife. Yes. I do believe in angels. Now beat it you jackass!

Final Rest

If you scroll WAAAY down to an earlier post, you'll find that a very close friend of my family recently passed away. Her name was Joan Shropshire, but I always called her Mrs. Shropshire.

Today, September 30th 2008 at 1pm, the family held a small service in the cemetery behind where I live. It was an honor to be asked to attend. It actually worked out well as I tend to take my lunch break at that time. There were about fifteen or so of us. Mostly immediate family. The service was brief, lasting about twenty five minutes. A few things were read and many tears shed. Mr. Shropshire had brought a recording of he and his wife singing a duet. I was vaguely aware that they sung together. It was a simple song I can't recall, but it was sweetly sung with lovely harmonies. I'm a sucker for harmonies.

She was interred, although someone used the term in urned, in a memorial wall located at the back end of the cemetery. It's a small wall with many different compartments on each side. The remains; usually in a box or urn, are placed in one of these small compartments. On the exterior of each small box reads the name of the person within. I had actually at one time thought about doing this with my fathers ashes, but I don't think my crazy family were too crazy about the idea. For now Shel is in a box, in my attic, surrounded by crap. By crap I mean junk. By junk I mean stuff I own.

Just to the right of her compartment I noticed a familiar name. It was one of my former bosses from MANY years ago, who had died somewhat recently. He actually played a big part in my being hired. He liked me for some odd reason, and pushed for me to the powers that be, or actually were. I've been working at the same top secret facility for twenty four years.

I find it somewhat ironic, although I may be using that in the wrong context, that Mrs. Shropshire is now located in the same cemetery where my friend Martha is buried. Passing away two years to the day of Mrs. Shropshire's memorial service. That's comforting to me. We'll all keep an eye on each other.

Fix You

When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse.

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

(Chorus)
Lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
and I will try to fix you.

And high up above or down below
When your too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what your worth.

(Repeat Chorus)

Tears stream down on your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face and I...

Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face and I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you.

-Coldplay

Martha My Dear............................

Martha Leaman Ankeney Schaffer

I can't believe it's already been two years since you left this mortal coil to ascend to be with the other angels. There have been very few women that have had such an impact on my life as you did on mine.

I met Martha literally by accident many years ago when she fell on the ice, striking her head. I helped her out, and we became fast friends. She taught me many things that I don't have time to go into. She, (as well as her family) became a very important part of my life. She was one of the GREATEST role models anyone could ask for. I wish I could even be half the person she was. I'd even settle for a sliver. I miss her very much and hope she is watching over me. I just hope she occasionally looks the other way! She was 89 years young.

More Stuff From Head To Blog

The jury sequestered.
Commiserating crimes committed.

The lawyers had slung their hash,
tho guilt never admitted.

The scales tip.
precariously balanced.

A courthouse built apathetic.
ghosts of truth and lies.

Await the fate of man.
Justice has no plan.

The nine return to serve
the verdict unannounced.

-CLW
All rights reserved



I have no idea what all that means. You get one phone call. Call your lawyer.

OOO-EEE-OOO-AH-AH...................

You may remember that as part of the lyrics to that classic novelty "witch doctor" song. I woke up today with a stiff, sore (get out of the gutter) back. As soon as I got to work I called "Doctor Ken" to schedule an appointment. He's a chiropractor. For many years of my life I believed these "witch doctors" to be useless medical personal who if not careful, would cause you to end up much worse than if you had not gone at all. Then one day at work, I hurt my back. Bad! One of my co-workers took me over to see DK to make an appointment. I did, and that began our secret love affair! I, through my insurance company give him money, and he kicks my ass, allowing me to rise and walk like Lazarus. He's a miracle worker and a heck of a nice guy. Boys and girls. Young and old. If you need one, and find a good one, stick with 'em. You'll be glad you did.

How was that Ken? Now give me my fifty bucks!

Shut Your Pie Hole!

I tend not to watch much TV. I don't like my schedule being dictated to me. Watch such and such, at such and such time. That's why I enjoy DVDS so much. The POWER AND CONTROL! Yes there's TIVO, but as much as people have recommended it to me, I just can't and won't embrace it.

Occasionally I'll blind buy a DVD TV season set based on the good things I've heard or read about it. The problem I've run into buying season sets is; I'm always a season behind. If the show turns out to be great, I have to wait about a year to view the next season. Just shut up you say. Just watch it on regular TV like the rest of us. End of problem Jackass! Well to that I say; yes I can, but no I won't. So there!

All the above babble leads me to this. Ladies and gentlemen of all nations; I have a new favorite show! "Pushing Daisies". I had previously viewed one episode on, (believe it or not) regular TV, sometime last year. It was OK. Beautiful to look at with it's high color saturation, but I just wasn't sucked in like I hoped I'd be. Despite that, I picked up the season 1 set about a week ago, and finished watching it last night. Wow! I'm very glad I gave it another chance. It drew me in slowly, but by the last episode I was in love. It's nice to be in love with something, if not someone.

If you haven't seen the show it's got a little bit of everything. Murder, mystery, along with some supernatural elements and even romance thrown in. It's not for everyone. It's quirky. Very witty in a dry kinda way, and it comes at you quickly. Kinda like "The Office", in the sense that you have to pay attention or you'll miss all the subtle humor, etc. It's atmospheric and "Burtonesque". It's very fairy tailish. The Pilot was directed by Barry Sonnenfeld who is a cinematographer turned director. He's also one of the shows producers. He directed films such as; The Addams Family, Men in Black, Get Shorty, and a few others. It seems pretty obvious to me, although I could be wrong, even though I'm not, that he's been heavily influenced by Tim Burton who makes beautiful looking films that tend to not be very cohesive.

The production values are amazing! This must be a very expensive show to produce. It's eye candy. It's original. I dare anyone to be able to compare it to anything that has been, or is currently out on TV. The casting is spot on. The acting very good. The show is narrated which can be difficult to pull off, but it works very well here, as the show is like a story book come to life. The sets are very cool. Lee Pace is very good as the damaged but sweet Ned. He owns a pie shop cleverly called the pie hole. Hence the title of this blog post. I'm taken with the sweet but rambunctious "Chuck", (she's a girl) as played by Anna Friel, whose Ned's childhood friend and love interest. The rest of the cast works well. I was somewhat aware of Kristen Chenoweth, (Olive) as an actress, but she's very funny as Ned's employee who's smitten with, and basically ignored by him. I have to say; Ms. Chenoweth is HOT, HOT, HOT! She's my new TV girlfriend. Dethroning Gillian Anderson. She of X-Files fame.

This show is so creative, so well written, witty and entertaining, that I fear it may not make it past, or complete season 2 which is just now airing. Unfortunately, it seems shows such as this, Wonder Falls, and Freaks and Geeks, get pulled too soon before they even gain an audience. Boy I hope I'm wrong.

Watch it. Give it a chance. I think with a show like this there are no gray areas. You'll either love it or hate it. Black and white. Done and Done!

Monday, Monday. (or) Sunny Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down

Back at work. Feeling better. Thanks for asking. Stopped raining. No more crying RJW. I hope ANYONE reading this had a good weekend.

Stay tuned. More to follow................................possibly.

The Sky Is Crying

I just left a dear friend of mine. She's very sad. My heart aches for her. It doesn't help that it's raining outside. As she wept, (which she tries very hard NOT to do) the sky wept along with her. I reminded her she's strong. She's an Aquarius after all. She just needs some time which should give her some much needed clarity and perspective. I know she'll get through this. She's great. She's one of the good ones. Beautiful inside and out. She'll be OK.

Stuff in my head

"CRY MELODIC"

The violin weeps it's melancholy melody,
Longing for ears to hear.

Cradled by hands that gently guide the bow
across strings tightly strung.

Tender plucking stir the notes
heard even by the deaf.

-CLW
All rights reserved.



"TO EVERY PURPOSE"

A season passes begrudgingly,
as nature attends the wake.

A rainy Sunday service
ending late September.

Willows weep low to the ground.
All trees will remember.

The first leaf falls.
A gentle tear slowly downward.

A chill wind blows.
Summon the coming darkness.

the metamorphosis continues.
Beckon winters snow.

Dust to dust and ashes to ashes.
The weather stays it's course.

Anticipating the resurrection.
To await the renewing bloom.

-CLW
All rights reserved.


"INTO NOTHING"

Falling slowly into nothing.
Downward spiral earthbound spirits.

Hoping for much more than something,
as evening skies fade to blue.

-CLW
All rights reserved


"REFLECTIONS"

Scratching the surface of what used to be.
Reflections I no longer see.

Through many lives lived future past.
Vague memories that never last.

Grasping tightly to loves now lost.
Defying souls outweigh the cost.

In broken glass I gaze to see.
A stranger staring back at me.

-CLW
All rights reserved


"BIG WORLD TURNING"

Let's discuss our global matters.
As the world lay all in tatters.

A blind eye turned will never see.
Avoiding responsibility.

By lessons learned you'd think they'd know.
Elected leaders come and go.

History inevitably repeats itself.
Storing Problems on a shelf.

With worthless dimes our homes are lost.
Ice caps melt. Fuels highest cost.

Too many dead as soldiers bleed.
Worthless wars caused by greed.

Where do we begin. Where should we start.
Consider November with head and heart.

-CLW
All rights reserved



I think I need to get a bit less serious.
OK, here goes:


"LUMPY McNUGGET"

Lumpy McNugget was quite insane.
The boy was born without a brain.

He'd Chase the children all around.
He'd scream and yell, but make no sound.

They said he was crazy as a loon.
Howling at the harvest moon.

He lived in a graveyard on a hill.
Then came the night when all was still.

He buried himself deep underground.
To play with all the worms he found.

-CLW
All rights reserved

T.G.I.F.c.i.s.f.k.s.a.i.c.w.f.t.w.t.f.g.h.

I actually knew what that meant when I first began typing it. Now that I'm done, I forget what it means. If I remember, Perhaps I'll tell you......................or not.

Sleep of the sleepless; or no ZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

What a night!

Despite feeling crappy, and not very happy, I pressed on to make it through yesterdays workday. I'm attempting to limit my sick days as the year winds down. By the time I got home after screwing around, (not that way!) at work, I was BEAT! Tired even.

I slipped into my mighty jams, which are on the verge of becoming mighty stinky, to settle in for an evening of self pity convalescing. I considered my dinner prospects. Do I want the soup and peanut butter crackers, OR the peanut butter crackers and soup? Can you guess the choice? I fired up the ol' brick oven, (microwave) to 5000 Fahrenheit, and prepared my meal.

The evenings entertainment consisted of finishing up season 4 of "A Haunting" on DVD. That's some scary shit! Have you seen that show? I think it's on the Discovery Channel, however most of my TV viewing is on DVD, so I tend to be a season behind. I then followed that up with a Net Flix presentation of "Resurrection Mary" which turned out to be a crappy movie version based on a supposedly true ghost tale that occurs along a stretch of road in the Chicago area. Look it up on the Internet, it's pretty creepy and cool! As you may be able to tell I'm interested and occasionally fascinated with ghosts and the supernatural. I didn't finish the film as I began to get tired. I think between the boring absurdity of the lame movie, and having loaded up on generic NyQuil, not to mention my usual insomniac cocktail, I was feeling pretty good about actually falling asleep and staying asleep.

Long story, somewhat short, all I did was toss and turn ALL NIGHT LOOOOOOOOONG! I did actually manage to get about three to four hours of fitful sleep. I can survive on at least six hours, however ask any one of my victims in witness protection, and they'll tell you any less then that-watch out! I become one beastly, cranky, SOB!

Because I'm a company man, (not!) I returned to work today because the big creaky wheels don't turn without my grease! I'm very important to the day to day function at work. I'm da glue dat hold it all together. I'm also a pathological LIAR, (Thanks Snips!) although I could be lying about that as well. Needless to say, by the end of the day I was so delirious I drove my bosses car home! Really? No........not really.

I'm off the clock at 4:30pm, and I see that it's now 5:42! Something wrong with dat boy. He ain't right! I'll leave here soon to basically repeat last nights scandalous excitement. Hopefully without that pesky insomnia. Here's to sleep.

Before I go however, I'll share a little poem I wrote that popped into my head via stream of consciousness earlier in the day. It's called.............I don't know what it's called. That's NOT the title! I really don't know what it's called.

Here goes.

Tossing and turning, thoughts are burning
with answers that I lack.

Trapped in stasis that has no basis.
Move forward to go back.

Insomnia to crush my dreams,
will cause my head to spin.

As I fight delirium.
Bright lights begin to dim.


That's all folks!

The day after yesterday, but before tomorrow.

I'm STILL sick! WAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa. I was brave however, and came to work. I figured if I'm sick, I'm takin' down as many as I can with me. It was a total hackfest, with people running in all directions, covering their faces. It was great! I think I'm gonna get fired. I feel bad I had to cancel band practice. I'm sure the guys'll probably get together for a vocal rehearsal. They don't need me for that. Besides, my ears can only bleed so much. What? Sorry?

I STILL can't find my sunglasses. OK, who's effin with me?. There is a reward involved. The reward of being nice and making me happy. OK, I'll throw in some bubble gum.

Seems the cemetery board has once again put the kabosh on my halloween party plans. I was hoping this time Rick wouldn't mention it and throw me a bone. Get it? Bone? Cemetery? Whatever. I'm not sure what I'll do now. As much as I'd like to put one together, I'm not going to have nearly the amount of help or patience (RJW) that I had last year. The band was also hoping to make our debut there. A friendly aquaintance of mine is going to be throwing a bash. Perhaps she'll let me join in, although I may be asking for trouble like last year. Then again, this particular woman is not nearly as good and close a friend as Nat was to Miss RJ. ;^)>

Any prophecies of doom from the mystic and clairvoyant Miss W?

Well peeps, I'm outta here. I fear I may be running out of amazing and exciting stories, sprinkled with a few anecdotes, to share. I may have to start making shit up. Oh wait. I've been doing that all along. Stay tuned for more occasionally lame updates, as my world and stomach turns.

Today's Happenings......................

I woke up relatively on time, unlike yesterday when I overslept. Being off for a week, my body clock was ticking counter clockwise. I had been staying up later, and sleeping later. I woke up in a panic, which set the tone for the rest of the day. I can't recall ever moving so quickly to get ready so as not to be late for work. Thank God my commute is only one mile door to door. At least Hobson says so. I didn't even get a chance to have my coffee. My coffee! My effin' COFFEE! Can you believe that?!

While home on my lunch break, I was looking out my kitchen window and saw Mr. Shropshire going into the downstairs office. He was obviously there to take care of final business and to arrange for his wife's eventual interment. I went downstairs to say hi and to see how he was doing. I asked if he needed anything. He said; "can you cook"? I said I could take him out for a meal.

I lost my $5,000 sunglasses! Son of a bitch! For crap's sake! I've been losing a few things lately. It started with my ID tag. Now my glasses. What's next?...................................shut up.

I'm getting sick. I began to feel run down yesterday. I suspect my immune system may be on the fritz due in part to last week's emotional roller coaster ride. I was sneezing quite a bit, and contributed it to allergies. Mine always seem to go wonky when the seasons change. As I type this, my throat's feeling slightly sore. My head and eyes ache as well. What do you mean waa-waa, who gives a shit?! Is there anyone who'll take care of me? Preferably a woman. A hot woman in a nurse's uniform. Dream on my friend. Dream on.

I'm gonna go home soon. I'm anticipating a delightful evening with my girlfriend Sony, and her friend's Net and Flix. They're foreign, I think. I will also be preparing a gourmet supper consisting of soup and peanut butter on crackers. Don't hate. I'll share.

Dating, or the lack there of.

I HATE dating! To be more clear, it's not so much the ritual, the song and dance I dislike. It's the containing of imperfections, issues, back issues, and the other scary stuff we tend to hide away until we begin to let our guard down. Hoping that our intended victim will like, and eventually love us despite ourselves. Warts and all!

Anyone whose had the (dis)pleasure of dating me by blunt force trauma is aware that I tend to unleash the bad early on. A classic defence mechanism to test the waters. I figure if I put it out there in the beginning, I can gage their cringe factor and hope to gleen a look at the future. I'd rather catch the fear in their eyes before they flee screaming into the night, sooner rather than later. Sometimes it's hard to tell. I'd like to think I'm being a bit dramatic here. I'm not so bad. I think. For a while. Sometimes?

Ideally I'd like to circumvent all the awkwardness and slide directly into the cozy and comfortable phase. I know. In a perfect world. Well, in MY perfect world! I know I'll eventually have to start again. I'm not getting any younger. I'm Forty effin' Five. Mid life baby! The dating pool has just become a bit more shallow. Not wanting kid's peeing in the pool makes me even less of a candidate for finding someone. The choices are slightly narrowed.

I'd hate to think I'd have to try the cyber eLove thing again. It was OK, but mostly Matchless.com. I prefer to meet someone, or be mutually introduced. Low stress and pressure are my ideal mistresses. I've gone out on a few dates, and while these potential victim's had nice qualities about them. They held no potential for me. The romantic in me used to believe in soul mates. Now I think I believe in making a good choice. I'll admit I've become lonely, and a bit fearful. I suppose I'll leave it somewhat up to fate, and "roofies". We'll see what happens. Tune in later.

I miss my best friend. I miss my companion.

FINALLY!

Today is the first official day of fall, or as I like to formally call it, autumn.

Without a doubt, my favorite time of year. A small, yet vital influence over the title of my now famous (and read by millions) blog. I've ALWAYS loved autumn ever since I was a boy. Unlike most people, I prefer it when the sun sets earlier. My twisted logic being; I can go home, put on my jams, and not suffer one bit of guilt! Come daylight savings time & summer, I feel obligated to be outside which is nice, but well.............an obligation I feel obliged to.

Autumn also brings crisp cool air and the smell of burning leaves, (which is illegal in Jersey) and wood. It brings the promise of hot cider, pumpkins, and turkey. It brings HALLOWEEN! The creme de le creme of holidays. I'm considering having another party this year, Although last year's party ended up to be somewhat of a disaster. Well, for me, Anyone trying to help, but especially for Miss RJW. Although she had to endure some crappy things and cranky behavior, she bravely came through, making the party the success it was. Mostly for the guests, who for the most part, were clueless as to the behind the scenes shenanigans and horror! Almost one year later, THANKS again RJW. You were the glue baby!

If I do have a party this year, it will be on my terms. A bit smaller and hopefully more cost efficient. Not the unwieldy beast it became last year. It got to the point where I felt it wasn't even my party anymore. I felt I had absolutely NO control! That's what I get for including others in the planning and execution. I was trying to save a buck, and get some assistance. I must admit I was clearly warned, over and over, what would happen. Thank you very much Miss W. A prophecy fulfilled!

I found it!

No, not my sanity. My security ID tag I had been searching for ALL week! Where did I find it you ask. I found it in my laundry basket. Still wrapped around the collar of my shirt. Of course it would be found the day before returning to work, after my boss had deactivated it. Of course it would be found in the last place I looked.

Fortunately I did not have to write a report. My boss, at least the guy who thinks he is, was able to reactivate it. I thought he'd have to make a new one. I did however, have endure one of his mindless lectures. Later on he confided in me that he had misplaced his as well. I asked if he would have told me. He emphatically answered NO! That's why he's the boss.

"You Can Close Your Eyes"

Well the sun is surely sinking down
But the moon is slowly rising
So this old world must still be spinning 'round
And I still love you

(Chorus)
So close your eyes
You can close your eyes, it's all right
I don't know no love songs
And I can't sing the blues anymore
But I can sing this song
And you can sing this song
When I'm gone

It won't be long before another day
We gonna have a good time
And no ones gonna take that time away
You can stay as long as you like

-Repeat Chorus-


Lyrics- J.Taylor

Once..........................(Again)

"Falling Slowly"

I don't know you
But I want you
all the more for that
Words fall through me
and always fool me
and I can't react
And games that never amount
to more than they're meant will play themselves out

(chorus)
Take this sinking ship and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
you've made it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
and I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
and I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
and warred with yourself
it's time that you won

(repeat chorus twice)

Lyrics- Glen Hansard




"If you want me"

Are you really here or am I dreaming
I can't tell dreams from truth
For it's been so long since I have seen you
I can hardly remember your face anymore
When I get really lonely and the distance calls it's only silence
I think of you smiling with pride in your eyes
a lover that sighs

(Chorus)
If you want me Satisfy me
If you want me Satisfy me

Are you really sure that you believe me
when others say I lie
I wonder if you could ever despise me
you know I really try
To be a better one to satisfy you for your everything to me
And I do what you ask me
if you let me be free

(Repeat chorus twice)

Lyrics- Marketa Iglova & Glen Hansard






"ONCE"

Part of me has died and won't return
And part of me wants to hide
the part that's burned

Once Once
knew how to talk to you
Once Once
But not anymore

Hear the sirens call me home
(Repeat three more times)

Part of me has vied to watch it burn
And the heart of me has tried
But look what it's become

Once Once
I knew how to look for you
Once Once
But that was before
Once Once
I would have laid down to die for you
Once Once
But not anymore

Hear the sirens call me home
(Repeat three more times)

Lyrics- Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova

To blog or not to blog.............................

So far, if I've not already mentioned it, I've been enjoying this blogging thing. I've never kept a diary, but have considered doing it for many years. I'm a lazy writer, and tend to write long hand. The old fashioned way! I've never made the jump to utilize existing technologies. I tend to use the computer at work which is difficult because I seem to have lost my security ID card. You see, you need this highly advanced "big brother" device to get through several doors in the building.

I can see the annoyance in the faces of my fellow employees as they have to use their cards so I can gain access. The nerve of me! Several have even asked why I've been spending so much time at work when I'm off. I think they suspect I'm building a bomb. Actually, I'm still waiting to receive my bomb components package from Amazon. I was able to get free shipping so that's a bonus! Regardless, now I have to write and file a report. Now I think I'm in trouble. I'll deal with that on Monday, for crap's sake!

Back to the matter at hand; writing my blog. I really like the fact that my writing is instantaneously posted, as I'm an instant gratification kinda guy. My dilemma is this. How much of my soul do I lay bare? I suppose in all actuality, very few people are reading this. I'm writing mostly for myself, and mostly for those I choose to provide a link. I try to use my discretion wisely. Anyone else from Blogger who stumbles across my blog is most likely a total stranger, (I think) so either way I guess everything I wrote in this particular post truly doesn't matter................or does it?

We'll see. I'm sure I'll figure out something. I hope.

Honorary sisters and best friends

One of Mrs. Shropshire's daughters, and sadly I can not recall which one, recently shared a comforting recollection with me. Not long before her mother died, she spoke of seeing several deceased people nearby. Most importantly Jesus, and my mother Sally. It should be duly noted that I don't believe they were actually hangin' out 'n chillin' together, although I'd be very impressed. I thought that was pretty cool. She's certainly in good company!



Sally and Joan together again! September 13 2008

The wake and service

The wake was held Monday, 9-15-08. (1-4pm & 7-9pm)

It was a closed casket ceremony which selfishly and for my own comfort level, I prefer.

It's was a very long day. I'm sure much more so for the family. Sometimes these things can be a bit strange. You tend to meet relatives you never knew existed, or the one's you'd intentionally avoid if not for the necessity of the event. And then there are all the rest. the people you'd only see at major events. Births, deaths, graduations, weddings, holidays, if at all.

At the wake I reconnected with a few old neighbors, and people who seemed to know me, and for the life of me, I can't recall. I've become an expert at the nod and smile. Acting through veiled confidence as though I know them well. I ask them general questions, hoping their answers will spark a memory or recollection to end the clueless charade, and solve the mystery. I know I'm not the only one who does this. If you practice really hard boys and girls, you can become a well honed pro like me.

The evening wake usually tends to draw more of a crowd, as most folks obviously have to work during the day. I never liked wakes, (who does?) But I understand the need for them. In this case however, I didn't need to question my being there. It was an absolute honor to be there to show my love, and pay my respects. I loved and respected Mrs. Shropshire very much.

I never knew how to act at these things. Should you be solemn and sad, or smile attempting to appear happy. Although I tend to emote from the first category, I strive for a delicate balance of the two. In the past I would get annoyed when someone was smiling or joking while attending a wake. It seemed disrespectful. As I got older and no wiser, I believed these events; These rituals; were meant to help heal. To celebrate the person's life. Not to dwell on their death. There would no doubt be plenty of time for that later. A wake is a distraction. You're surrounded by loved ones and familiar faces. Being comforted by those you care for, and that care for you in turn. Eventually you find yourself alone. That seems to be the worst time. Your alone with your thoughts. That's when you can feel overwhelmingly empty, lonely, and easily overcome with despair. It does get easier with time. Time doesn't heal all wounds, but it can give you clarity and perspective, as well as Strength to cope better then you could have initially.

I've certainly had my share of loss. Not all of it through death, although the feelings can be very similar. I don't claim to have had more or less than others. All I know is it's my loss. As far as other people's loses are concerned, I can only do my best to sympathize and empathise. These are wonderful, yet at times, heart breaking gifts bestowed to me by my mother. People can try their best to identify with the grieving, especially after having suffered a similar loss. However, every body's loss is different. I can't even begin to know the way someone else feels about their particular loss. These are my feelings, and my intention was to relate them to the matter at hand. Perhaps a bit scatter shot and roundabout, but I hope I was able to covey them in a way you are able to understand.

Back to the wake. To make a difficult time, well more difficult, I saw a familiar face approaching out of the corner of my eye. It was my twin brother Jon. I knew I'd have to deal with seeing him the next day at the service, along with my sister Kathy, but certainly didn't expect to see him that night. you see, I've not seen, nor really spoken to Jon or Kathy for several years. It's a long boring story that I won't get into. The two people reading this know it already. Fortunately, I was among many people to help distract me from many confusing thoughts and emotions.

The service the next day was quite beautiful despite all the mixed emotions, mostly sad, that filled the room. There were several speakers, all very touching. However, there was one in particular that made the biggest impression on me. I can't recall her name, but she represented the Hospice center where Mrs. Shropshire spent her last remaining months. Her title was something like "spiritual adviser", or something of that sort. All I know is; she wasn't a priest, minister, pastor, rabbi, or fortune teller.

She was honest and admitted not knowing Mrs. Shropshire very well, although she spoke of how they bonded and connected instantly. Apparently this woman became very important to Mrs. Shropshire. For that reason alone I liked her. She was a dynamic and sincere speaker. Although she spoke of many things, she read two passages from the bible. Although not uncommon, they seemed to touch most everyone in the room. Mrs. Shropshire to my recollection, was not a very "religious" person, however the passage's seemed appropriate, seemingly resonating with those in attendance. I'd like to share them. I apologize for surly taking them out of context, and for heavily paraphrasing.




To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under the sun. A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill and a time to heal... a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance... a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to lose and a time to seek; a time to rend and a time to sew; a time to keep silent and a time to speak; a time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace.

-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8



Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous. It does not seek envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves. although faith, hope, love, should abide, the greatest of these three are love.

-1 Corinthians 13:4-7


I believe this to be perfect love. God's love. I'd very much like to actually meet someone who is capable of this, if they exist. If you know of such a person, please introduce me. As unobtainable as perfect love seems to be, we should never lose sight of it, nor stop trying to get it right.

From what I understand, Mrs. Shropshire is to be interred at the cemetery next to where I reside. I very much look forward to having her as my neighbor.

The dreaded day!

Not so bad. Thanks especially to three people in particular.

Ms. Wolters. Your covert, black ops, ninja visit was a very nice and welcomed surprise. It meant more then I can convey.

Linnen. Thank you for your very thoughtful am call, although MUCH earlier for you, eh?! Really?...........................Yes, REALLY!

Snap. It was wonderful to catch up on lives past and present. Thanks for getting me drunk. Kill 'em in the nationals!

Don't forget. It was a very BIG parking lot and like days of yore, we STILL managed to get it right!

5-4-3-2-1.......................Wait for it.

Happy effin' birthday to me! Well, tomorrow actually. Close enough she said.

45 and STILL alive!

Happy birthday to my evil twin as well, even though he doesn't read this thing, nor is he aware of it's existence.

A pincha dis, a pincha dat.

Between my glorious ADHD, with a smattering of OCD light, I find myself returning over and over again to my blog posts. Obsessively editing, and re-editing. Tinkering feverishly until I'm sure they, in no way, resemble my originally intentioned posts. Thanks, Itchy and Linnen! I'd rather blame you two, then suck it up, and blame myself. It ALWAYS feels better to blame someone, or something else for our actions. After all, that's what made this country great!

Are there any other bloggers out there that add unnecessary stress to their lives by doing this? Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?

Sorry. Trying to be clever with a lame song reference that doesn't actually make this post anymore clever than it already isn't. Cheers.

A life well lived.

JOAN KOLLER SHROPSHIRE

January 4 1936 - September 13 2008

Once.....

Have you ever seen this movie? It's a small scale, low budget film that was released in '07, (I think?) If you haven't seen it, I won't tell you much about it, except to say; it's about a love that doesn't quite happen, could never be, or last, (I think). If you tend to like small scale, low budget films, give this one a try.

I saw this for the second time recently while visiting friends in Colorado. I enjoyed it more the second viewing. I didn't think my friends were going to like it. It's kinda slow. I thought Crystal's husband was nodding off. Turns out they DID like it.

I picked up the soundtrack the other day. I had sampled it at B&N when the film was first released in theatres. I didn't think much of it at the time. Now I really like it. If you like melancholy, sad love songs, as I tend to do, you'll probably dig it. I wouldn't advise listening to it while going through a loss or break up. It may delay the healing process. What do I know? Perhaps it may help.............or not. Don't shoot the messenger!

Truly heart tugging stuff. Although, if you don't have a heart, there will probably be very little, to absolutely no tugging at all. I hope that you have a heart. Rumor is it makes us humans just a little more human.

All songs are good. Most notable are tracks 1, 2, 5, & 7. The disk is on the Columbia/Sony label, and no, I don't see a dime of it. I'm not a shill..........or at least I don't think I am. Hmmmmmmmmmmm.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock..................

Time. I dislike it. No, I loath it. OK, I hate it!

It's EVERYWHERE! wrists, walls, nightstands, microwaves, even computers.

When your a kid it really doesn't matter except where holidays, birthdays, summer, school, and stuff like that are concerned. Time seems to drag, like you have nothing but time. Kids actually complain about this. The little SOB's! ;^)

Then you become an adult. Well, some of us do. Time becomes the enemy! We always want more. There's never enough. You can easily become a slave to it. It's especially dodgy as far as aging is concerned. Birthdays. Great for kids, (unless you don't get what you want!) can suck for grownups, (unless you DO get what you want!).

Too slow for the young. Too fast for the old.

I guess the whole point of this is, my F-----G birthday is rapidly approaching. I fear this is going to be a difficult one.

The big 4-5!

Apparently half my life is over. Well, if I look at it optimistically, The second half could actually make up for the first, and dare I say, surpass it! Nah. Too positive. :-)


"Two things an old man fears. Mornings and mirrors".

See that? I knew you were out there lurking!

I've received some actual comments. Thank God! I thought I'd have to leave them for myself as a self esteem boost and to up the numbers.

Thank you especially, Ren. I'm glad your staying in touch, if only through my blog.

The CVS incident

I'm sure some of you will laugh at this. OK. most of you will. Regardless, I was getting out of my car when, and I'm not quite sure how this happened, I SLAMMED my head against something really hard. I think it may have been the car door, unless I was sucker punched, which is a possibility. And no. I wasn't drunk. Thank you very much!

I was momentarily stunned. It really hurt. I thought I was goin' down. I saw those stupid birds flying around my head like in the cartoons. I saw stars...........whatever.

I tried to compose myself. Trying to look cool and hoping to high heaven that NO ONE witnessed my buffoonish blunder. I went inside the store. Walking around, I felt a little dizzy. I put my hand to my head to feel if there was a bump forming. That's when I saw the blood. Not a lot mind you, but enough for me to get a little anxious. I asked an employee to evaluate the extent of my injury. He offered a band aid. I made my purchase and left the store. I felt stupid. I had a headache.

That's right. Go ahead and laugh. Yuck it up. It's always funny when it happens to the other guy. Just remember, karma can be a terrible thing. Ponder that for a while, and best of luck to you.

Sometime after 3am..............................

The night was proceeding as planned. I was going to pick up Tunk, and head to the club. Before that I was going to stop by the hospice center for a brief visit with Mrs. Shropshire, and any family members that might be there. There's usually always someone visiting.

It was still raining, and I was bitching to myself because I was tired and didn't want to drive down to Asbury. It was sometime after eight when I arrived at the center. I found the front door locked. I called Mrs. Shropshire's daughter Amy to see if she knew how I could get inside, but couldn't reach her. Fortunately a staff member saw me and let me in.

I made my way to Mrs. Shropshire's room. No one was with her. I figured I'd visit with her for a while and then go and pick up Tunk who didn't live far from there. Earlier that day, Amy had left a message for me, updating me on her mothers condition. She didn't sound good, so I wanted to make sure I got to visit.

Mrs. Shropshire looked bad. This wasn't the sweet, funny, vibrent woman I knew. Her eyes were partially closed and barely showing any pupils. I called Tunk to see if he could give me a little more time to visit, which he was fine with. As time passed, her breathing seemed to become more labored. I thought about the night my mother died. Although my brother Jon was with her, I wasn't. I've never been able to fully forgive myself for not being there with her. Yes. I know it's selfish.

As it got closer to the time I was supposed to pick up Tunk, I realized I couldn't leave her alone. I felt bad for having to ditch Tunk, but I knew I should stay. I didn't want to. I didn't want to see her like that. I wanted to be anywhere else. I called Tunk to tell him. I think he understood. I hope he did.

I sat with her in the dark, although the room was somewhat illuminated by a light from the bathroom. I held her hand. It was surprisingly warm. I didn't know what else to do. Although she was barely responsive, in my heart I knew she was aware I was with her. Her eyelids would occasionally open a bit, and she seemed to look at me once in a while. I told her how much I loved her, and thanked her for all she had done for me, my family, and especially for Sally, my mother. Mrs. Shropshire was always there for my mom. She was also there for me, especially during one particularly difficult time in my life. My mother was an only child, and Mrs. Shropshire became like a sister to her. I'm very grateful for that. My mother had a good, but difficult life. I know Mrs. Shropshire made it more bearable for her.

As I sat with her, Mrs. Shropshire seemed to be getting worse. I felt so helpless. I kept talking to her. Letting her know I was there. I couldn't think of any other way to comfort her. I spoke of memories I had about her and Sally. They were always working some angle. They used to plot and scheme about stuff they could make and sell. In particular, I can recall their famous, (or infamous) "nut wreaths". For a few years these were a traditional holiday perennial. They would cut wood into circle shapes, and then glue many different kinds of nuts to the wood. They would then cover the whole thing in a coating of shellac. Being a kid, I never really understood the appeal of those things. I think they actually sold a few. Perhaps they used the unsold wreaths to play ring toss. It's kinda odd that that particular memory of them, stands out from all the others.

Mrs. Shropshire's breathing continued to become more labored. She began to make sounds I didn't want to hear. I became anxious. It seemed all I could do was keep reminding her I was there. I would hold her hand, and gently caress her cheek. I would kiss her forehead. I would speak of Sally. Anything I could think of to calm her. I would cry. I would try to smile, something I've never really been good at. I told her not to be afraid. I was. I think I said it for myself.

Every so often the staff would check on her, giving her meds that were supposed to make her more comfortable. I hope they did. Occasionally they would ask me to step outside so they could clean her, etc. I understood this, but it made me angry when they would turn on the light. It seemed so abrupt. When I'd return to the room, she would seem agitated and would be breathing louder. I know they were just doing their jobs, which I'm sure is difficult. It just made me so angry. I felt like they were intruding.

I sat and waited. What was I waiting for? For her to die? I desperately wanted someone, anyone, to show up so I could run away. I felt incredibly torn. I didn't want her to suffer. I didn't want her to die alone, but I really just wanted to leave. I felt so selfish. It was sometime after three when I decided to go. I prayed that she would calm down. That she would be at peace, and that someone would show up to be with her. Outside the rain had stopped. I got in my car and drove home. I hated myself.

I awoke at about eight thirty am, but lay in bed until about nine. My head hurt. I felt like I was run over by a bus. I knew I had to call to find out how Mrs. Shropshire was, although in my heart I pretty much knew the news I would receive. I called Amy, who answered the phone. I could tell she'd been crying. I told her how sorry I was. I offered any kind of help or comfort, like anyone else would, but I felt like I fucked up! It was my mother all over again. I was angry and sad at the same time.

I came to work to type this because my crappy msntv system doesn't work as well. I'm feeling sad, but not as angry. I feel empty. Numb. I feel Alone. Mrs. Shropshire, to me, was truly my last living link to my mother. I don't like this getting older shit. It seems that death becomes too frequent. I realize we all die and that's really the only thing humanity shares. No matter where you live. Whether your famous or not. Rich or poor. Your race. Your beliefs. It happens to everybody.

I called my boss and asked for the the week off. Initially he gave me some shit which really pissed me off, but I know that's just how he is. He's not a bad guy. I think he just has a little trouble with empathy and sympathy. He became a bit more understanding before I hung up. I'm pretty sure he'll give me the week.

I know this isn't about me. It's about Mrs. Shropshire. It's about her Husband Joe, and the rest of her family that are suffering through an incredible loss. It's very difficult to lose a mother. That's where we come from. We wouldn't exist if not for them. I miss my mom. I'll miss Mrs. Shropshire very much.

If your mom is still alive, and you have even a half way decent relationship, call or visit. Tell her you love her. You'll never know when you'll get another chance.

I think writing this all down is probably one of those therapy things. Perhaps Like a letter never mailed. I'm sorry if this seemed too detailed or mellow dramatic. It's just what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it. I think she'll eventually be interred at the cemetery where I reside in the gatehouse. I hope so. We'll watch over each other.

Mrs. Shropshire, when you see Sally, tell her I love her, and give her a big hug and gentle kiss for me. Farewell for now. I'll see you again someday. Wait for me.

Too much time on my hands

Still at work, but off the clock. Still abusing the system! It's raining mice and men, (stupid literary reference) outside. I'd much prefer cats and women. I'm stalling really. I could go home, but that's lame. I'm supposed to drive down the shore to see my friends band, and as much as I'd like to, in weather like, this I'd prefer to go home, slide into my jams, and vegetate. Actually, I haven't been to B&N in a while. Maybe I'll put on my big boy pants, and head on out to the store. I could steal things there. That might be fun.

Before I depart, I have to say I truly dig the spell check feature on this thing. I suck at spelling! Too bad this thing's not equipped with grammar and a proper punctuation check. That would make me slightly happy.

OK, I think I'm done w/this silly BS. See ya. Have a decent weekend.

Hello. Anybody out there?

Based on my counter thingie, people are actually viewing my blog, unless of course one of my multiple personalities are checking this thing over and over, like an ADHD/OCD hamster in one of those plastic balls or wheels.

Please, whoever you are. Whatever you are. Leave some comments, feed back, suggestions, it doesn't matter. I'm new to this whole thing and would appreciate any advice as to what I may doing right or wrong. Blogging seems to have a lot of gray areas. I'll always be looking for ways to make this experience more enjoyable for any viewers, or at the very least, myself.

I'd like to figure out how to post pics and stuff to make it more visually interesting. I'll work on that. I'm kinda anti-my space and facebook, although blogging here may not be all that much different. I like the fact that if you click on your interests, all the other bloggers all over the world who share them come up. Pretty cool. Feel free to em.

Ben & Jerry & me

On a MUCH lighter note:

Ah. All the fat, all the time!

I try to stay away from this stuff. however, walking through the grocery store's frozen food section, (with my fly down-see earlier post) I spied an overwhelming bright light, beckoning me to the dairy case. It was so brightly illuminated, I had to shield my eyes for fear of burning my retinas. Was this my burning bush? Was this a sign from heaven? Did God have a divine plan for me to perform at Shop Rite? Too many thoughts and questions were spinning out of control in my head.

As I slowly opened the glass door with both impending doom and cautious excitement, there it was. Calling to me; "come hither and fourth!" A brand spankin' new B&J ice cream flavor! One pint of delicious essential goodness. Cinnamon Bun! My hands began to tremble as I picked up the container of this icy frozen treat.

Now anyone who knows me well, and that would be very few, are well aware of my LOVE for all things cinnamon. Cinnamon bread, rolls, coffee, etc. Hell, just the very essence of cinnamon itself. I carefully placed the container on the very top of the cart. A shrine or throne if you will. I couldn't wait to get home.

I drove home w/God speed. The wind at the rear of my mighty Element. I was about to sample this new delicacy, when I panicked. I told myself; I shouldn't rush this. I should savor the moment. Wait, what if it sucks?! The last thing I need is another catastrophic disappointment in my life. I placed the container on the self in the freezer, and closed the door sealing the container in it's frosty tomb..............for now.

Long story short, within two days, and two sittings it was gone. Completely devoured. Like a zombie in Times Square on a Saturday night.

The label reads; caramel ice cream with cinnamon dough and cinnamon streusel swirl. Four servings per pint. 290 calories x four, divided by nothing to the thousandth power...............well, you get it.

I swear, and I'm not exaggerating, my teeth hurt for over a day! Not to mention the initial brain freeze.

Amy's phone call

I missed the call this morning, but seeing the display on my caller ID, I feared the worse. You see, Unfortunately I look at life as expect the worst. Hope for the best. It's a defence mechanism to make my life bearable. Kinda like an optimistic pessimist. Probably not the best mindset.

A message was left,and I was terrified to listen to it. A dear family friend, and someone who's known me practically my whole life has been laying in a bed at a hospice center. She's been there a few months. She hates it! Her family hates it. I hate it.

Amy said her mother was not doing well at all, and wanted me to know. I tried to visit as regularly as I could, but have not gone since returning from Colorado about a week ago. I feel selfish.

This is especially difficult for me as she was a best friend, and like a sister to my mother who died about eleven years ago. I can't even remember exactly how long ago, and that's bad. Regardless, my mother was also in the hospice program. Not at a facility, but at her home. exactly where she wanted to be.

I'm at work. I feel extremely helpless. I pray that God will allow her to hold on until I can see her. Is that selfish? I don't know. My mind is spinning. I feel very sad and anxious. I don't want to be here. I don't know where to be.

Her name is Joan, but she'll always be Mrs. Shropshire to me.

Thyroid Cancer Awareness Month

I recently learned that September is thyroid cancer awareness month. Thought to be one of the most "easily cured" cancers, those in the medical profession are finding that to be untrue.

A dear old, (not in age) former friend of mine had contracted thyroid cancer not once, but twice. She beat it TWICE! She is a fighter, and a fine example of a survivor. Here's to you "Snap"!

Eventually I'll finish and post the poem I'm writing about "Snap's" courage and triumph over cancer.

Please support thyroid cancer awareness any way you can. For more information go to:
www.thyca.org

"Tunkelmania"

Bruce and me rocked the house last night! Well, at least my living room. We were a Little rusty, but it was fun. Familiar even. We'll see where it goes from here.

By the way,I'm here at work typing this, apparently not working. I'd better jet before I get busted!

Tuesday Morning 9/11/01

Blue skies to black. It's difficult to fathom it's already been seven years. It's amazing that EVERYONE can recall where they were, what they were doing, the day the world stood still and silent. This is the only anniversary I know that no one celebrates. Think. Reflect. Pray. shed a tear.

Don't EVER forget!

A few of my favorite blogs.....................

Sung to the tune in the Sound of music. Actually it's only two. Is a few more than two? I think so, but I digress, and I hate that word!

Both of them you'll have to Google as I'm low tech to no tech, and don't know how, or can't be bothered to learn how to link stuff.
The first is the "Bat Blog". Lot's of cool Batman stuff old and new that some guy, Tom I think, puts a lot of work into. If you love, or even like Batman, you'll dig his blog.

The other blog is Rick Goldschmidt's. He's the history archivist for all things Rankin/Bass. They're the guys who produced all those great holiday TV specials like; Rudolph, Frosty, Year without a Santa Claus, Santa Claus is comin' to town, Mad Monster Party......I could go on and on. I LOVE those shows! I guess you'd Google his name or R/B or something of that ilk. What the hell does that mean? Makes me sound fancy though, doesn't it? His blog also contains lots of music, plenty of cool pop 60's stuff, and even something for you Cubs fans.

Later. Gotta bounce. Tunk will be showin' up at my place soon and I should probably be there.

A blog is a blog, is a blog, is a...............

So many blogs so little time. Why is mine different? It's not. What purpose does it serve? I'm not sure. I suppose even if no one actually reads it, it may serve as a release of some sort. A virtual mental health therapy session, or as Irv would say; "how's that workin' out for you"? I respond in part; "get your Irv on"!

I had initially planned to use this blog as a forum for some poetry I'd been piece mealing lately. Is that an actual phrase or word? Most of which is on hundreds of little scraps of paper, scattered around my apartment. Just remember scraps rhymes with craps. Think about that for a minute or two and move on.

I just don't want to be like the dead cat lady. Found on the floor after several weeks of decomposition. Being slowly devoured by hundreds of Feral cats that apparently have no taste. ten foot high stacks of papers surrounding my body, almost resembling a corn maze with no escape! All of my unfinished poems, short stories, film and TV idea's found by greedy siblings that sell them on eBay for mere pennies. I'd finally found fame and fortune, although unable to enjoy it because I was...........well dead. Maybe that's not the best way to achieve those things. It would probably be much more enjoyable if I could obtain it while still physically existing on this mortal coil. Of course I'd actually have to finish something first. Nah. Ain't gonna happen............or will it?

I've just read over all that just proceeded this, and I realize I have absolutely NO idea WTF it means. Apparently my stream of consciousness has drained, and my train of thought has derailed. OK. Done. I got nothin'!

The Tunk man cometh!

Bruce Tunkel is a guy I drummed for as part of his backing band several years ago. I played on and off with him for about six years in different incarnations of the band.

He had some moderate success in the early 90's with a band Red House. They got a major label deal, even charting in the top 40 with a video on MTV. I really enjoyed playing with him. He's got that "Jersey sound" and is one of those musicians from the NJ shore scene.

We got to play some cool gigs, opening up several times for Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes, as well as Joe Grusheky and the House Rockers. We also played with Jon Eddie, a well known Jersey guy. We played at gigs where the likes of Springsteen, Bon Jovi, and Dion jammed. It was a great time!

He's supposed to come over tonight to jam. We'll see. I'm really looking forward to it. Hopefully he'll put a band together again, including me of course! Friday night we'll be going down to Asbury Park to "The Saint", a dive we used to play at back in the day. We'll be celebrating at a CD release party for my old friend Frankie, (& former band mate) and his band Maybe Pete. That should be cool. Perhaps he'll let us jam with him for old time's sake.



If you get the chance, Google Bruce Tunkel and check out his site. Love him or hate him, he's a talented, and pretty cool guy.

You know your getting old when..............

your completely unaware your zipper's down! Now this has happened a few times in the past, but it seems to be occurring much more frequently. To be quite honest, I'm becoming very concerned.

Apparently, I made it through a complete grocery shopping trip exposing myself to numerous strangers. I made this wondrous discovery while walking through the parking lot returning to my car. That certainly explains why people I've never met were smiling at me.

This increasingly regular phenomenon could possibly be a good thing, but probably will turn out to be bad. Or at least not so good.

Why do razor blades cost so much?

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Is there anyone out there who can answer this perplexing and complex question?

I'm talking sensor, track II, etc. I mean refill cartridges people. I'm not a cutter!

It's gonna be a long night.

P.P.S.- What does that actually mean?

I promise this is the last word on Ms. Wolters.......................for now.

I'm sure she'll eventually read this, and when she does, I fear the worst. She's a fine (merciless-impatient-perfectionist) editor. I am not.

I'm hoping she'll be respectful, and go easy on me...................or not!

*Note to Miss Wolters- see correction above.

P.S.

I forgot.

She also got my ass off the couch to start drumming again. You're two for two, snips!

She's also the greatest waitress in NJ, if not the world. Wow. What a pathetic suck up I am. I think she still owes me money!

Dedication

I'd like to dedicate my blog to Rennie W. She encouraged me to write and was a constant source of support and inspiration. Although it took several years, here I am, typing away. I owe her a great deal. It's mostly because of her I'm doing this blogging thing. I miss her dearly.

No!, she's not dead...............................At least I don't think so.

Everyone could use a Rennie in their lives.

Thank you Ren.
XO

My very first post!

I got nothin'!

Hopefully, and quite possibly one day soon......................or not.

Thanks CL for getting me started on this ridiculous quest for self exploration, knowledge, emotional fulfillment, and most probably very little enlightenment of anykind! Is that one word or two?...........................Really?