Category: random

Be the tequila, not the lime.

The last few days I’ve seen a good number of posts, both on WordPress and Facebook, about frogs. One of those postings included my own.

It’s left me remembering the little iridescent green tree frogs that lived along the creek banks near my home and by the grade school. They were creatures with thin fingers and bulbous tips which helped them cling to the many Alder tree branches.

One day, a girl in my class and I were playing with a couple of these frogs when she suddenly pronounced, “You have fingers like a tree frog!”

Embarrassed and feeling shamed, I recall trying to hide my hands. Needless to say I was hurt — which later turned to anger.

Today, I must admit that my finger tips do appear to be slightly fatter than the rest of my fingers. And I also laugh at the memory of how astute she was as a child and how ridiculous and useless my embarrassment, hurt and anger were at the time.

It leaves me with a smile knowing she wasn’t being mean, but rather honest. Ahh, childhood — I’m sure you’d agree that there are some pieces of that trauma we could each do without.

Pro tip: If the wife asks about it, the wife already knows about it, so don’t lie about it.

If the ‘Mandela Effect’ works then ‘Up Town Girl’ is really ‘Jesse’s Girl,’ who eventually became ‘Stacey’s Mom’ and their telephone number has got to be ‘8-6-7-5-3-0-9.’

how can I write when
all of my words are lost in thought
but my fingers ain’t broke?

Since my body is a temple,  I should be exempt from taxes.

As a kid, I wondered how the Scarecrow could talk without a brain. As an adult I realized that there was Congress.

As I readied to do some laundry, I checked the pockets of my jeans and found a wad of notes I’d forgotten that I’d written a few days back while getting my tires rotated. Usually, I carry a notebook of some sort wherever I go so that I might write as time provides.

Having two-hours in the waiting area of a local tire shop counts as an ‘as time provides’ moment. However, since my visit was not part of my planned day, I didn’t have my notebook with me.

Since the urge to jot-down some thoughts felt so effing urgent, I decided to return to one of my old tricks. I kyped a few sheets of paper towels from the nearby restroom and got to writing.

This has been a practice of mine since I was a kid, having first stolen a roll of toilet paper from a roadside rest area while on a trip and later doing the same while in the service. I have also been sufficiently poor enough to have scrounged in garbage bins for writing material.

By the time my tires were completely rotated, I had nine-and-a-half sheets filled with random thoughts and ideas. I’m providing only the first sheet as an example…
It’s been like this for nearly all my life. My brain races, sometimes more than others, and I feel the strong need to write everything down to ‘empty my head,’ and sadly, I’ve never known another person that goes through this sorta shit on an everyday basis.

As a kid, I first got the idea about taking notes from the ‘Little House on the Prairie’ series. This idea became reinforced while watching ‘The Waltons’ when it first aired in its 8 pm time slot on Thursdays.

Often times, thoughts are heading at me so fast that I screw my facts up. For instance, when writing about ‘another ME (Mandela Effect,)’ I later did some homework and realized that it was Dan Hartman who’d died March 22, 1994, the night I began at KRNO or how in my ‘western society’ notation, I use the word ‘learn’ instead of ‘live,’ in the second sentence.

But then again, I guess that’s why they’re called ‘notes.’ And now — it’s time to transfer what’s usable to my spiral notebook for later use.

The silence we suffer on Earth are the sounds of prayer in Heaven.

This eleven-word haiku is inspired by my blogging friend, H.R.R. Gorman’s post, titled ‘Peepfrog Season.’

spring has come again
frogs chattering all day long
wintertime gossip