I would skip reading this post if I were you

It is possible this post will be less intelligent than usual.

I spent most of last night crapping my brains out.

Ba-boomp

12 hours of diarrhea can't be good. I think it is medicine related as opposed to food related. I ate nothing my wife did not also eat, plus there is no abdominal pain, just copious amounts of butt soup.

TMI? I venture the answer is a certain "YES".

Assuming I have not contracted a stray strain of cholera I will probably survive.

I'm afraid to fart though.

Gaia Goodness Glorified

Today is Earth Day.

I will celebrate by spraying chemicals on the weeds in my yard. It is an annual tradition.

Peeling back the layers of the onion

I write pretty much like I talk. Slowly. Hah! No seriously, my writing and speaking styles are similar. I think that is why I have always written posts and letters and even term papers fairly quickly.

Back in the day I would research term papers, read the sources, make notes of pertinent facts and quotes I wanted to use. Then I sat down and generally wrote the entire effort in one sitting. I could compose a ten or even twenty page paper in this fashion. I could often outpace my typist (my girlfriend / now wife would type for me).

I think this is one reason my pathetic attempts at fiction have been so lame. I can get a good start, but the mental challenge of writing an entire short story or novel in my head is too much. I'm just not that smart.

I'm always fascinated by the creative process. In honesty, most of my blog posts take anywhere from ten minutes to thirty to compose (I know, you can tell). A good chunk of that time  is deciding what to write about. I have discussed this with my musician son. What comes first for him, the melody or he lyrics? For him it is either, or, and both. Sometimes he will get a cord progression, or musical phrase. Other times it may be a lyric. Sometimes a bit of melody is the foundation.

Often my posts work a little better if I read them out loud. Yesterday's musings are a good example. I hear the Animal House cast chanting "Toga, Toga" when I read that. Take a slightly sarcastic tone coupled with a "south of 70" Hoosier accent* and slightly slow and even cadence and you could be me talking in my definitely not radio-ready voice. I guess you could call my style self-deprecating sarcasm covering an under-layer of indignant righteousness.  Long-time critic EOB labeled it as "smug". Yep.

I like to think of my musings as a conversation between us.  I started blogging because I worked alone in an office. There was no one to talk to. My boss and support was in Italy. I needed an outlet for my jokes, anecdotes, and political rants. I still work alone, now from a spare bedroom. I still need an outlet for my stories, jokes, and outraged rants.

I'm glad we have a chance to talk.



*that same accent can be found south of 70 in Ohio and Illinois too. It is strange I have it since I grew up in north central Indiana far from I-70. My brother and parents don't have it. Go figure. Linguists are right, we learn speech from our peers, not our home environment.

The conversation in my head

Yesterday was the first time I failed to mark the anniversary of the beginning of the Revolutionary War at the old blog.

OK, that may or not be true, the first time I failed to mention part, not the anniversary part. Frankly, I'm too lazy to go back through 37 years of archives to check the veracity of the statement. Let's just stipulate that it is true -- the first time omission part.

Are you as confused as I am right now?

I will comment that the sole purpose of the British incursion into the Massachusetts hinterlands was to seize a cache of arms. In other words, to confiscate guns. See how that worked out?

What? Look it up. Do you think the Lobsterbacks were just out for a stroll in the countryside? Have I ever led you astray?

That was a rhetorical question. I don't need your long lists of proof for every time I was wrong. Or even your short lists. My wife already keeps tabs. Not of blog wrongs, real wrongs. I admit to none. That is how I roll, to trot out a phrase that certifies me as an old geezer and out of touch. Whassup? Thirty-eight skeedoo. Like, far out, man. Groovy. Toga, toga.

I tell you now, I'm this far into this nonsense post and I have no title, nor any idea what the purpose of the post really is. The truth is I'm bored with the blog. I'm bored with my job. I'm bored with politics. I'm bored with life.

I probably just need some nooky.

This post is example 154 of why subscribing to this blog is worth every cent of the purchase price. No refunds. No exchanges. Do not spindle, fold, or mutilate your receipt. All items must retain original packaging or warranty is void.

Oh well, how about we all have a great Friday anyway?

Hangin' with Mr. Mitty

It occurs to me, and not for the first time, that my real life would make a for a great blog. The fiction that is here, well, no one's life is that mundane.

If only you knew...

I thought you was dead.

Not hardly. So says the Duke in my favorite western. Me neither. I'm not dead. I haven't abandoned the old blogeroo. I was not on vacation. I just did not post anything. I had nothing to say.

"But Joe", you say, "that never stopped you before".

Indeed.

I made quick business trip to Oh-hi-ya this week. Ah, life on the road. I stayed in a hotel motel straight out of 1978. The office was separate from the buildings that held the rooms. My room was on the second floor up an outside iron staircase and off an open walkway fronting he parking lot. The interior was dark and decorated in 1990s vintage motel furniture. The TV was new. The window heater was loud. The free continental breakfast was pre-packaged sweet rolls from Sam's Club. The room was exceptionally clean.

News has been going on. Weather happened.

I clearly had no blog fodder for today either.

Enjoy your Wednesday.

A bunch of words about nothing and I don't mean in a good Seinfeld way

The weather yesterday was glorious, albeit a little windy. I took the granddaughter down to a little park to climb and play. Afterward, we played ball, bubbles, and sidewalk chalk. She had the most fun whacking stuff with a stick she found lying on the ground.

We had two days in a row that topped 70 for the first time since last October. That was just what was needed to finally kickstart spring. Leaves are breaking out on the big willow and the maples. Today's rain will help, especially of it is steady and soaking. I will probably have to mow next week. I noticed a few dandelions popping out in yellow glory. Since my neighbors on both sides refuse to treat their lawns, I fight a summer-long battle against weeds.

Last year I chose to do stuff besides the heavy yard work on the weekends; namely hang out at our friend's pool. That  means the backyard needs serious work this year, including a dump truck of mulch, fence painting, pruning, planting, and general landscaping. All it takes is time, effort, and cash. On the other hand my buddy is probably going to open his heated pool in mid-May...