• The Price of Vanity

    Vanity being what it is, I spent $400 on a cellphone for my 1988 Hyundai, only to learn I couldn’t afford the service, so I spent my time driving around talking into a ‘dead’ cellphone. For $19.95, plus shipping and handling, I could have ordered a ‘dummy cellphone,’ and done the same thing.
    Lesson: Anything that costs money will always costs more money.
  • Finding Joy

    As a youngster, I used to want, want, want and as an old man, I still want, want, want. The difference is in not only what it is that I want now versus then – but how what I want brings me joy.

    It has taken a life-time of frivolous consumption to figure out that I cannot buy ‘joy.’ For me, joy comes from watching the sun rise or set, seeing the first bud on a long dormant tree, snow fall in the mountains, a sudden rain-shower, neighborhood kids at play,  a Robin hunting for worms, or to simply watch a dog maw-down on a bone.

    Shoot – a clean white tee-shirt, a pair of jeans, comfortable boots, a warm jacket, my camera, a notebook and my old pickup truck bring me joy. They’re the tools I use to explore and experience life – which also brings me joy.

    We all need to find our joy – however each of us defines it. So, what is your joy?

  • Lost: One Can of Beer

    You know the New Year’s Eve party next door must have been a good one when you find that random can of unopened beer in the gutter of your driveway.
    That’s what happened to me this morning. I can’t make up my mind if I should return it to them, or play ‘finder’s keepers, loser’s weepers’ and drink the damned thing myself. Perhaps, now that the sun is up, I ought to go look and see if I can find some more.
    There is an old rule to drinking beer: “You might have your favorite, but the best beer is always the other guys beer — because he bought it and you benefit.”
  • Simply, Happy New Year

    Awoke this morning to the dog’s barking alarm. We had a hot air balloon operating in the area and both Yaeger and Buddy are suspicious of such objects floating over our neighborhood.

    Made for a beautiful photo-op, though. Once I snapped all the pictures I wanted, I came in a downloaded them to my computer.

    Digital photo-suites are a very handy item to have these days because so much can be done. I have taken old, damaged, and faded pictures and brought new life to them, so others can enjoy these treasures as I do.

    For this particular picture, I edited it by reducing the subjects to black-and-white and removing all the frightened birds that were flitting about as the pilot fired up his burners. Not only do I think the slightly sheer look of the central stripe of the balloon makes a specifically interesting visual, I believe the varying layers of contrails also add to the frame as they create an off-setting look at aerial travel in general.

    This is officially my final photograph for the year that was — the year 2017. May you and yours have a wonderful New Year Day and a most prosperous and generous 2018.

  • Fortune Cookies

    Mary brought home Chinese order-out, using a gift card she received for Christmas. After finishing our meal, I cracked open a fortune cookie and read my ‘fortune,’ while crunching on the broken cookie-shell.

    It reads: “Your ability for accomplishment will follow with success.” Not satisfied in either my appetite or for a better ‘fortune,’ I broke open a second cookie and proceeded to munch away.

    It reads: “Your kind spirit will lead to many new friendships.” Though, I still was not satisfied, I refused to have a third.

    I’m afraid two fortune cookies and two ambiguous fortunes are my limit.

  • Another Facebook Banning

    It’s another Friday, and it’s another Facebook (FB) ban for me. This time I’m in social media detention for three-days, which means it’ll be a new year before I can login and post anything.

    The last time I found myself banned from FB was last week and that came because of having been hacked. This time they accused me violating their community standards after I posted a photograph from 1968 where Adam and I can be seen washing each other’s back while in the tub.

    scan0130 (3)

    Why my parents thought this was a picture worth taking, I don’t know. What I do know is that Adam is dead nearly eight-years and I’m not getting any younger and I want others to experience the ‘simpler days’ when we didn’t have social media fascist turning ‘innocent photo’s’ into brazen ‘child pornography.’

    Meanwhile, I saw a post from a friend that showed a naked woman, her back severely arched downward and her ass jutting up in a very sexualized pose. It was a meme she shared — meaning coming from someplace else on FB — and it asked, “How would you hit it?”

    As far as I know, it is still on her timeline and she hasn’t been banned, not that she should be. I’m simply referring to it because it shows the double-standard FB has imposed on its users.

    Immediately, I launched a protest and jus’ like the last time this happened, I’m not expecting a reply as it isn’t only Friday, it is also a holiday. And while I’m disappointed with FB and it’s over-reaction, I’m not gonna let it get in the way of celebrating the upcoming new year.

    So, with all this stated — have a safe and wonderful Happy New Year and I’ll catch you on the flip side of the holiday!

  • Nuts

    It’s really hard to watch our eldest dog coming to the end of her life. She has dementia and – even though she dances around for her food at dinnertime – she needs hand-feeding as she’s has for the most part forgotten how to eat out of her supper bowl. I know that someday, sooner than later, I’ll have to make that final decision and lay her to rest, but not today as I watch over her, sleeping peacefully and twitching from little dog dreams.

    And while on the subject of our eldest dog, I’m certain the neighbor’s think I’m nuts as I told them that I think there’s an owlet living in one of their pine trees. This came about the other evening when they texted Mary to let her know there were a couple of owls in our tree.

    This is why I don’t let our eldest dog, which happens to also be our tiniest dog outside at night. She is literally small than the rabbits that invade our grass after dark and it would be easy for a hawk or owl to swoop in and carry her off.

    Anyway, once outside, I could see one of the owls, but not the other. I tried to get some photo’s of it but my camera refused to focus or to flash, so when it dropped from our tree and into the neighbor’s trees, I had nothing to show for my efforts.

    The next night, I when took her outside to do her business, I heard the flapping of a large bird’s wings coming from my neighbor’s side of the fence, in the area of the pine trees. Since I don’t have a cellphone capable of texting, I ask Mary to let the neighbors know that I think they could have an owl, and owlet or even an owl’s nest in their trees.

    Thus, this is why I believe they may think I’m nuts. Oh, and as for my camera’s failure — a lack of a battery will do it every time.

  • The Humorless Faithful

    Knock, knock, knock…
    The door opens to smiling faces:

    “Have you found God?”
    “Oh, no, is God missing?”
    “No, no, I mean – have you found Jesus?”
    “Oh, dear, is he missing, too?”

    The trio turns, walks from the porch without another word.
    Don’t come to the door without having a sense of humor.
    Even Jesus found the time to laugh from time to time.

  • Post Confessional Truth Disorder

    While I fully understand the idea behind ‘confession,’ and how a Priest is an intercessor and such, I wonder if any other ‘Reformed Catholics,’ like myself, suffer at the idea of surrendering our deepest, innermost secrets to another human being. It is truly easy to go directly to God, the Son and the Holy Ghost when we have sinned, but telling aloud one’s shameful errors to another flawed being is frightening.
    It leaves me wondering, does anyone else suffers from what I call “Post Confessional Truth Disorder” and the battle to keep nothing a secret?
  • Other People’s Writing

    After reading other people’s writings from the various blog site’s I follow, I find myself dealing with a twinge of jealousy. ‘Damn, I wish I had said that,’ or ‘Man, that is a line that expresses everything.’
    Then I have to return to myself, remembering that I have my own writing-style and that my thoughts are as unique as any of those other writers. Besides, who says I can’t copy a particular line down and re-contextualize it to reflect me.
    After all Mark Twain supposed said, “Plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery.”