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Tuesday, August 27, 2013

...Tree and Turf~

I should probably start, first, by explaining that I’ve recently moved back to what I’ve long considered to be my hometown, Greensboro, NC.  In the process, and in my haste to do this, I left a job, as well as my “Home in the Hills” in Black Mountain, without first locating employment. Little did I know at the time that the economy, coupled with my apparently limited skill-set, would work together conspiratorially to keep me in a state of seemingly permanent vacation… O, well.

Anyhow since I had anticipated something of a gap in employment, at least for a little bit while looking for a place to live, I chose a rental with a no term, week to week arrangement. This the most recent of my apparently never ending semi-transient living environments came with a built in set of roommates. 


Now I’m not exactly a cake-walk to live with myself, just ask anyone who’s shared the luxury of that with me, but when you begin adding multiple other human life forms to a small living space which includes Me ,…well.~ 

My housemates and I have communal space in the dwelling that we share together including a living room, a dining room/kitchen, and cabinet/refrigerator storage space for food. As in any collective living environment, small disputes can, and do, crop up occasionally and when that happens we can usually talk with one another and resolve them peacefully and unemotionally …Usually.

Dirty dishes, pots and pans left in the sink, a stray cup with some petrified viscous-like residue lolling on a coffee table, strewn newspapers, magazines … typically it’s that type of thing that gets the ball rolling around here for obnoxious behind the scenes name-calling. Oftentimes the problem items will mysteriously get put away, which is all I really want to see accomplished anyway. 

Since I began living here 3 months ago I’ve overheard quite a few conversations about some phantom food scavenger. It’s usually something fairly insignificant, some bread, a couple of pieces of cheese, maybe a soda. I always just kind of chuckled to myself particularly since The Phantom always seemed to have the good sense to stay well away from my commissary. 

Fingers were pointed but always when whoever was suspected was well out of earshot. Inevitably different suspects were discussed depending on which subgroup was weighing in at the time. Some people here began squandering their non-refrigerated items behind the closed doors of their respective rooms in the hopes, I can only assume, that whoever this menace was lacked opposable thumbs for gripping doorknobs maybe. It was like the CIA speculating about some Mole in its midst, initially I just sat back and observed. 

One of my housemates, we’ll call him Tripp, because, well because that’s his name and because outside of me, he’s the quickest one in the house to fan the flames of unrest that really need very little air for full blown combustion to begin with –that and I’m hopeful that by doing so more chaos will likely ensue. 

Well, anyway, Tripp loves deli roast beef, and btw who doesn’t really. Sliced thin, fresh, rare as hell –it’s F’n delicious.  A couple of weeks back I was sitting in the living room which adjoins the kitchen area minding my own business, which is, by the way fairly uncommon for me.  All of a sudden I heard Tripp say, to no one in particular, “somebody’s been into my roast beef “, followed moments later by, “somebody’s been into my f’n cheese!” 

Seriously it’s like Goldilocks popped into the frat house around here on any given day. 

Anyhow, I got up from my little comfy spot on the couch and joined him in the kitchen to laugh at him and generally stir the pot a little, which incidentally is one of my many talents, and here just lately I’m getting lots of practice what with the phantom food thief terrorist stuff going on and all –plus I like to think of it kind of like a subversive verbal workout and I try to keep in shape sarcastically at least, if not muscularly. Anyhow he was pretty well all frothed up and it was hardly even sporting at that point to kind of kick him into more of a frenzy but I did what I could, what the hell.

Maybe about a week later I was sitting comfortably in the living room pretty late at night enjoying the quiet and watching Boardwalk Empire after everyone else had gone off to bed. The only ambient light on was coming from the television set. 

All of a sudden the door off of the kitchen flies open and in struts T home from a late shift at work. I paused Boardwalk and went into the kitchen to talk to him because he generally cracks me up and seems to have the same kind of humor that I do which is really nothing to brag about if you’ve ever had the heart to spend any time with me at all, but I digress. As we’re talking about something at this point completely unmemorable but I’m sure very funny at the time, he begins to open his refrigerator (we have three) to start grabbing items for a midnight snack. Out comes a loaf of bread, some Dukes. We’re still talking, laughing about something, I can’t remember. He pulls open the crisper drawer at the bottom of the fridge and starts rummaging around for his sandwich stuff and comes out with this pathetic looking mostly air-filled deli Food Lion bag with one or two equally sad pieces of roast beef winking out of it. 

You had to be there, it was Great!

The look on his face was just priceless, and by priceless I mean in the way that if I could somehow find a way to get at enough disposable income to be in a position to purchase those kinds of priceless looks for my own insatiable self-serving amusement I still wouldn’t ever have enough money to pay for that kind of swag because it so rarely exists in the real world kind of priceless.

Anyhow as I was trying to catch my breath from laughing and coughing spasmodically he reached back into this cheerless little crisper drawer and pulled out yet another mostly empty sack where cheese once not-so-long-ago held congress. I almost had a heart attack and honestly Tripp was laughing even harder than I was if that was even possible.

Well like I said, I almost died right there in the kitchen but when we both regained some sense of normal composure,  our two-man ad hoc consensus seemed to be that whoever was secretly pilfering depressing Food Lion luncheon meat and dairy products would have to pay. In retrospect as funny as the moment was, and as just as I felt any kind of verdict against this cretin would be, with Tripp as the judge and with my satirical counsel, I should have known that the price was going to be hopelessly severe.

Now maybe I should also add that a few nights prior to this episode I had strolled into the kitchen to grab my box of Fresh Market Crispy Chocolate Chip cookies (-incredibly delicious but expensive as hell as cookies go). I’ve got most of my non-perishable items stashed on the top of one of our refrigerators and you’ve got to reach about head high in order to grab stuff off of the top of this perch. Well as I gripped this box and started to slide it off of the top where it was sitting I could tell that the weight just didn’t have the right tactile feel. So anyways once I had this bakery box in my grasp and closer to my line of sight I could see that the Al Zawahiri cookie thief faction had finally found my campsite. Whoever this sweet tooth Jihadist was they not only helped themselves to my cookies, they had the gall to actually put the box back where they had requisitioned it from, Empty!  Really, there was an empty box with cookie smell in it where just previously it had cookie renters.

Anyhow at the point as I type this, Tripp has just recently left to go out of town to Maryland to assist in the opening of a new restaurant there. We had a discussion about some fairly subversive retribution techniques a couple of days before he left to go on this trip. The idea that he came up with involved, at first, simply moving his newest roast beef and cheese cache into the refrigerator that I use in some sort of a more passive tricky now-you-see-it- now-you-don’t kind of ploy designed to throw the enemy off routine, but really what’s the fun in that.

He kicked the idea around of salting his RB with various different obscene body related stuff –kind of Trojan Horseish(?) in my opinion, but still humorous as hell to talk about if you ask me.

The day before he left we were outside having a smoke just kind of chatting about what I can’t remember, something reprehensible but funny I’m sure. Anyhow as we were having this conversation and strolling around the yard we almost stepped on this recently deceased robin lying just at the base of a fairly old oak tree. An idea was spawned and quickly rejected as being just a wee bit too out there. As awful as the idea was it did have novelty and creativity on its side.   Tripp was considering moving the bulk of his RB from the Food Lion marked bag that housed it into a separate ziplock baggie for future eating enjoyment and keeping just enough choice rare slices of RB to completely camouflage-wrap this newly found freshly inanimate bird in, on the hope that the sneaky Boar’s Head hamburglar-guy would come upon it and learn some hideous lesson! –Brilliant, but after some eye-watering laughter-choking speculation just a little too close to the fringe of horrid taste, pardon the pun.

Like I mentioned, at this point my scheming house-partner is just currently out-of-state …but, I was out for a walk and a smoke earlier this evening and while taking in the night air I happened upon the spot from the other day where the dead tree-chicken corpse had been discovered, … It has since vanished. 

I was checking my phone some time after my excursion, I had left it on my night table before going outside, and on it was a text from my out-of-town friend.

“Feel free to help yourself to my roast beef and cheese,”  it said.

I think I’ll stick with the Stouffers just to be on the safe side.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

It’s gonna be a Great Summer…!

…Dear Craigslist:

Seeking financial freedom and friendship (~wink, wink) for an easy solution to my own self imposed economical and emotional dilemma.

Me …Fiscally and romantically dysfunctional in an as yet wholly undiagnosable way, (The DSM-5 hasn’t begun to chronicle a reasonable enough categorical title for the disorders currently in my possession); unabashedly self conscious, albeit in a well disguised and seemingly abstract story-telling kind of fashion; 30ish (ish, ish); tall dark and handsome –particularly wellll after sunset from a distance (…quite a) and viewed from behind through poorly maintained night vision visors and glaucous nearsighted eyeballs.

You …Extreeemely attractive, financially Over-secure in a “would-love-to-donate-to-my-cause-kind-of-bent”; above average intellectually, but with poor self esteem and Daddy issues; witty, but drama free; reasonably bad eyesight but not of a squinty unattractive inclination; strikingly  well maintained physically, however in a normal not medically induced propensity.

Personal benefits to be gained upon hire date …A giggle-fest so extreme that tissues by-the-case lot would be strongly advised for the watery eyes and runny nose you will surely suffer from as you are coerced into hearing about my many life achievements to date along with my plans for more of the same in the near and distant future. (A possible pre-investment in adult incontinence garments, or “pads” of some sort, may also be a useful purchase until such time as my philosophy on all things important-only-to-me becomes trivial and boring as historically this has seemed to be fleshed out time after time,  and, if not, certainly once our initial so-called honeymoon period comes, mercifully, to an End). Lots of free exercise from playing naked Slip ‘n Slide until dawn followed up with more randy adult oriented yoga in the form of full contact uninhibited Twister (wink, wink, Nod). While this may all sound quite exciting and cardiovascular in nature along with less cumbersome and expensive than maintaining a Gym membership I should perhaps toss out the disclaimer that there may be an emotional and psychological toll fare far exceeding the contrived health benefits ~You’ve been fairly forewarned.

If interested in this selection process…, Please forward recent Bank Statements, Official documentation supporting current physiological stamina, Psychiatric evaluation (you will certainly need a Strong platform here from which to jack knife into the deep dark pool that I represent), and, of course, any glamorous 8x10’s you feel would perhaps Seal the Deal.~

It’s gonna be a Great Summer!

Thursday, December 27, 2012

"Thankyou very nice"

Although there really is very little rhyme or reason (~certainly not “Reasoning”) involved in these essays that I post from time to time, I suppose that even where fiction is concerned there is always some element, or aspect, that comes from within the author himself however ridiculous,  inane,  horrible or even comically intended that piece may be.

I write because I feel moved to do so, whether it’s because I feel compelled to describe some truly weird event happening in my terribly uninteresting life, or because I’m bored of my so-called existence here and would rather choose to express something more compelling (-to me mind you) than to contemplate another useless day of my own as it would normally unravel before me.

Some of the folks who read the things that I write are friends and family members and I am honored that they take the time occasionally to glance here and to look at what I have to say every so often. Apparently some of the individuals reading my page wandered here haphazardly perhaps led by some poorly constructed search engine –I am tickled to have tricked them to my lair as well. Both camps arrived at the same place albeit for completely different reasons I assume –“thankyou very nice” as Andy Kaufman used to say.

Now I regard myself, mistakenly I should add, to be what I consider rather “Uber-Savvy” when it comes to reading other people, and I don’t mean their books or writing although I’m also a voracious reader (-this isn’t bragging, I just happen to lead a very bland and boring life so I tend to salt it with lots of good fiction, tah-dah). Now what I consider myself to be and where I actually land within this spectrum are often whole worlds apart. Someone says or sometimes writes something and I say, “Ah ha”, figuratively, and I think to myself how very smart I must be to read between the lines and understand some subtlety or secret quality that this individual is expressing –I think that I have somehow learned something about the relationship between myself and this person, or perhaps I think that I have unearthed some important nuance regarding how they may view their world and in turn how possibly that may affect me.

Perhaps everyone does this very thing that I am trying to describe here.  Conceivably everybody attempts to use their own roughhewn tools of observation to better unearth the psychological shards and artifacts in the others that they come across in order to obtain some sort of an advantage in their dealings with them and with others like them.  

Like some short-circuit to understanding, this more often than not leads to real imagined misunderstandings.

Hopefully if you have stumbled upon my page and come back to find it again then you have found something here that you have been able to enjoy in some sense. If indeed you know me from past experiences that we have shared and in turn read something real or fictional that I have written and think that you have possibly discovered some well hidden insight into my deeply disturbed psyche you may be Uber-savvy and clever, and then again you may be utterly mistaken.  Either way I hope that at any rate no offense is taken and can assure all that none is ever intended.

I tend to write observationally more often than not but sometimes I like to throw out a curveball and write something more comically or dramatically philosophic, and sometimes I just throw caution to the wind and express something fictional.  Whatever comes out onto this page typically does so in a spur of the moment extemporaneous fashion.  Steam of Consciousness is a term that implies something more in the realm of an artistic or fashionably creative process and although personally I like the sound, the “ring” of it,  it is well beyond describing what I am currently and quite possibly ever capable of producing either here or anywhere!  

If as you read this rather longwinded piece you find yourself wondering if indeed I am speaking directly to you rather than trying to create some excruciatingly lengthy disclaimer about any commentary written within this site, then I am doing what I assume all writers are in some way trying to do –reach you or connect with you on some personal level.  Personally I’d like to believe that occasionally I do connect with some of you –Realistically it’s more likely than not that I am reading a bit too much between my very own lines, “thankyou very nice.”   

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Holiday Thought...

Well here it is another Thanksgiving come and gone with Christmas hurrying around the corner like Lance Armstrong on an anabolic high and New Years’ soon to be just another memory before we even have time to put away the funny looking pointy party hats.

The Holiday season often seems to drag out getting here but once Turkey day arrives it’s an all out sprint to January One and if you get too caught up in the whirlwind rush of festivity preparation it becomes all too easy to miss out on the importance of these get-togethers to begin with.

Now I don’t mean to get off on a rant here and I certainly know better than to weigh in on any of the religious overtones that tend to be so closely associated with this Holiday time of year. I’m a bit older now which goes without saying, we all are. Unfortunately older doesn’t mean wiser –at least not in my case apparently (-or at any rate that’s what younger folks seem to want to point out, but hey they’re “younger” so what the hell do they know anyhow).

What I’m trying to say is that we need to make sure to take the time, especially during the Holidays, to take stock in what’s really important to us, and, by that, I mean turkey, presents, Lance Armstrong and of course pointy party hats. Now I know that some of you are thinking, “Hey, wait a minute, sure I like pointy party hats as much as the next guy but really don’t you think that we should take some time here…some real quality time that is, and celebrate what it is that we mean to one another…that we should try to embrace the terrific fellowship of family and friends that the yuletide spirit so powerfully evokes?”

Pullllease, really?  Are not these the people from who we so gladly seek to escape throughout the very year that is drawing down to a close as we speak? The long hours that we spend at work or focused in deep reflection at our computer screens perusing the most recent and evidently completely engrossing Facebook spackle seems to support this hypothesis. We wash our cars, shine our shoes, iron our clothes and spend altogether too long (some of us) prepping ourselves after showering in order to please who? Ourselves. Our bosses. Our neighbor’s opinions of us perhaps.  Certainly we don’t exercise these measures for the select purpose of demonstrating our love of family or our commitment to close friends, both of these exclusive groups of people know each of us well enough to call b#@%*&+t on any of the paltry tricks that we may utilize in order to draw attention to our outerselves without really disclosing what it is that our tricky nougaty inner-center actually portrays.

The Holidays somehow get us altogether too caught up in the flashy symbolism of festive decoration.  The planning and shopping and ribbon knotting that seem to misrepresent the core of what it is that we should really be celebrating. Family, Friends, (Faith if you have it). The three F’s, and two out of three truly ain’t bad in this case.

 Let’s don’t forget the folks that got you “Here” from this time last year to where you are figuratively at least today. Celebrate the emotional ties that helped to nurture and create the package that is You today as you hunt for and cherrypick packages for the special people whose lives you’ve deemed so worthy this Holiday Season.

…Oh and do be careful with the Pointy Party Hats~   


Thursday, October 4, 2012

A Letter To My Sister ...For Her Birthday~

October 2012




Dear Sarah:

Well hopefully this should reach your humble little doorstep on the appropriate day this coming Saturday, and, well if by chance NOT, I plan to blame it on the U.S. Postal service, the weather, gas prices, Plague-n-Famine, and a whole host of other potential possibilities other than myself and singularly Poor Planning on my part!

You have been on my mind much lately and not just because of the forthcoming National Celebration of your much adored birth (~as if that wasn’t enough you may add) –will there be parades this year or is that planned for 2013?  No I actually do tend to think about my sister and her little brood of Boys-to-Men down South in “F-da” (-just made that up right there on the spot for you –“F-duh”, I kinda like it although perhaps it does gravitate a little towards the PG-13 in a Freudian-slip kinda unintentional way).

I thought that perhaps this year we’d simply  skip the whole store-bought card stuff and just express some good ‘Ol down-to-Earth raw, off-the-cuff in your face extemporaneous thoughts and feelings (makes me just tingle on the inside with emotion~). –Well that plus it’s way cheaper know what I mean!  At any rate if you feel the urge to send me an expensive card stuffed w/$, contraband or Colonel Sander’s secret recipe feel free, me I’m goin w/the Keep It Simple Stupid (KISS) approach this year –that’s how I Roll , at least this Year.

Curious by the way, is it personally frustrating that you will forever remain my younger sister of three years, and is it compounded, too, by the fact that your Birthday consistently shows up exactly one week ahead of mine somehow as a reminder of this shortcoming?? –Sad but these are the kinds of things that keep me awake at night…

Anyhow enough…

I can only say how truly proud that I am to be able to call you my “Little Sister”. You have always been the “Can-Do” girl; The “Find-a-Way-to-Make-it-Work” person –obstacles be damned! Take no prisoners; “See the Rainbow through the Clouds and Rain” philosopher. You possess this special Gift that pushes you to find a way to succeed in what to others would normally be reason enough for giving up and folding their hand for the next reshuffle. For those of Us who are not “Others” and who do indeed know you, we can see that what may appear to be some sort of Magic-Trick, some sort of luck perhaps is hard, hard work and persistence to the N-th Degree!  -Still We all wonder how in the “H” you do this! The Apple that is You always seems so “Shiny and Bright” –the sheen of it, the glossiness if you will, somehow never appears to fade! With each new endeavor you March on in the same wondrous fashion, humbly I should add (-for this one reason I must question our genetic link by the way!).

At any rate I for one do indeed Adore You and not just because of your ability to juggle so many balls in the air at one time (like some freakish Chinese acrobatic routine!), you are and forever will be my Sister, my one-and-only Little Sister and I am so happy that that worked out the way that it did!

Have a wonderful Birthday and Pop some balloons for Me…You will be, and always Are in my Thoughts~

Much Love… Tom

Thursday, September 20, 2012

...And Furthermore

~An Update of sorts to “…And Laugh” dated September 18th…..

I suggest skipping to the next post before returning here to glimpse these most recent macabre developments…

So anyhow it has become increasingly apparent that inanimate objects (-in particular Automobiles) and me have some innate problem in the development of “healthy” long lasting and fruitful relationships. Actually in retrospect my ability to maintain any realistic normalcy in basic fundamentally social interactions is likely questionable too –but for now let’s just stick to cars in order to retain some focus, some succinctness….

In case you choose to first read this instead of taking my advice and skipping below for some relatively important background information regarding these most recent developments of the last 48 hours, I’ll try and relate a quick (-impossible for me) synopsis to get us up to speed-:

My Honda has had some fairly unacceptable misfortunes over the last several weeks and my ability to make entry and egress has become a bit cumbersome. The driver’s side door (up until last night) could only be opened from the inside because of a recent “mishap”, the front passenger seat can only be opened from the outside (another relatively recent set of unfortunate and “bizarro” circumstances), and my driver’s side electric window has been stuck in the “up”, (thankfully-), position. Confusing, I know, but if you knew Me, it would all make perfect sense in some fashion.

Ok so here we are in the almost here and now and I can restart this tale from the most recent albeit confounding set of events that took place essentially yesterday and the day before          (–Yay).:

So anyhow we encountered a very heavy rain event over the last 48 hours after perhaps a week of very pleasant and mild weather. By heavy rain I mean “squall-like”, as in –Oh I don’t know….picture the movie “The Perfect Storm”, -the one w/George Clooney about the Andrea Gail boat that uh, well that didn’t fare so well either I guess you could say.

During this fairly heavy and cold cascading damp soaking personal nightmare, and because of the way that my driver’s side door now hangs from the unfortunate “accident” that I participated in, moisture (-read LOTS of WATER)  poured in the gap in my side of the car overnight while I was asleep. When I entered my Honda to leave for the morning, (-gaining entry by 1st opening the front passenger door and reaching in to use the interior driver’s door handle to get that open and then, of course, walking around and getting into the driver’s seat w/out having to climb in through the passenger’s side –which would look even more “dorky” –as if that’s possible!), I had to use a towel to wipe the rainwater off of both my driver’s side seat as well as the driver’s side door and armrest as both were completely soaked. New morning chore accomplished, I started her up and took off down the mountain to get a cup of hot coffee and start my day.

When I arrived at “Dynamite Coffee” I let myself out of my door from the inside (this doorhandle does work!) and upon removing myself from the car I made a point not to close my door completely so that I wouldn’t have to use the dorky move previously mentioned in order to gain reentry. Ok again –in and out of said Coffee Shop, no prob, open driver’s side door to get back in w/out too much personal embarrassment no prob, still raining like something out of a dramatic movie –check.

It’s still morning,  got my coffee, back in my machine, I decided to light up a cig and head into work  –so far  –so good….

As I lit up and began rolling towards the highway I decided to roll down the rear passenger window (electric) along w/my sunroof to let the smoke out as I drove –I’ve got a roommate that I take care of and since he doesn’t smoke I try to be relatively considerate about the lingering tobacco odor (-hey what can I say –I’m a classy guy!). Well anyhow it’s still raining like Hell and now I’m getting cold with all this rolled down window space so I flicked the butt out of the sunroof (-my ashtray no longer “works” either –I told “you” to read the post from September 18th first but does anyone ever Listen to Me?). I pressed the switch to close my sunroof (switch located on the dashboard ~check) and then I began to catch a faint whiff of an odor that I couldn’t immediately place. I smelled this almost indiscernible “fragrance” and I just could not for the life of me make the neural connection necessary to place what it was right away. I turned down the radio to see if maybe I could focus better on this “thing”, well then all I could hear was the sound of the wind and rain rushing in through my open back window so I reached over to my driver’s side armrest control panel and went to press the button that raises the back window. It was then that it hit me as I was trying to pull all of my limited powers of observation into focus and figure out what the hell this familiar odor was. It was the scent of ozone, the scent of a shorted out electrical connection, the aroma of all of my power buttons, at least the ones embedded in my driver’s armrest portion of my car going through their Death-thrawls!....So here I am in this Marx Brother’s mobile of a car ~a Clown Car at this point really, and it’s pouring down rain and I’ve been getting soaked anyhow because of the gap in the door on my side because of recent personal appendage threatening events related to the “accident” from the week preceding, and now the @#$%* back passenger window is stuck in the down position too because of some freaky “Thomas Edisonian S@#t!” …..Oh Well, Right.

So last night after dinner my roommate and I were leaving the partially skirted singlewide castle where we dwell (-another story for another day perhaps) and as I waited for him to gain access through his front passenger door and kindly open the driver’s side door from the inside (remember!) –he decided to insert some further “humor” into my embarrassment of having to wait for him to open my door for me by depressing the door lock button also embedded in the driver’s side armrest. Upon depressing said button, the door locks immediately went into this convulsive ratcheting up-and-down rapidfire spasm TicTicTicTicTicTic….Well because this too is electric and somehow interconnected to the wiring in the armrest there,  Guess what?…My  driver’s side door is now completely locked out,…Completely, as in I furthermore can no longer gain entry or exit from this particular, and to Me, important accessway!                                          (-Yay!).

Ok so now with this most recent bit of karma I ask my roommate, who is now actually stuck in this Car Monster (*Remember he cannot get egress from his interior door except from the outside door handle!) –I tell him to sit still while I walk around to his side of the Car, open his door from this “position”, ask him to please step out of the vehicle so that I can gain access to my seat via the now open front passenger way.                                                                          REALLY~

So anyhow off we go to this function that he attends in the city. Said function lasts approximately an hour or so give or take and we go through the previously described Clown Car routine of getting in/out/in/in (Use your imagination and you’ll be able to see this in/out/in/in visually in your head –let me help …roommate opens his door getting In, he gets Out, I climb In through his side, he gets In ~special Right!)  Finally situated in the HorriCar we crank it and get on the highway that takes us both back to my aforementioned vinyl sided palace in the “Hills”.

As I get off the freeway exiting down this rural road that is no more than a mile from home base, I see a car approaching rapidly from behind w/his bright lights on. Blue lights soon add to this crescendo of visual overload after what has been a most interesting evening. I pull over into the parking lot of a country convenience store and kill the motor.

As the policeman gets out of his car to approach mine on the driver’s side I roll back the sunroof. He steps to the door where I am sitting and motions for me to hand him my information –by respectfully rolling down my driver’s side window I’m guessing. I peer out at said policeman upwards through the open sunroof escapeway and at the same time make a horizontal finger slicing motion back and forth across my neck area trying somehow to indicate that rolling down my window wasn’t likely to happen any time soon as I stuck my other hand gripping my license vertically through the sunroof attempting to hand it graciously to him. As he took the ID from me via this open roof portal he asked me how long my car had been so damaged and what had happened. –Got A Minute?  Returning to my car moments later after no doubt checking my vibrant civil and criminal history, the officer obviously trying to be somewhat respectful of my car’s sad physical shape, elected to approach said vehicle from the passenger side. When he got around to that side w/my ID in hand I again made some sort of nonverbal gesture now referring to this his newest attempt at gaining access to my attention. “Sorry”, I said as I related that my passenger window would neither roll down nor open from the inside –I took a leap of faith as I continued with my current woeful tale by asking the kind officer if he would possibly not mind opening the passenger door from his side so as to gain rapid access and hand me back my photo ID in the least further embarrassing way. He complied, shaking his head slightly as if in disbelief at my current predicament. –He kindly suggested that I get my shattered rear brake light cover fixed in the Very near future and gave me what I guess could best be described as a “Pass” –kinda “GoodFellaesque-style” and sent us on our harried way.

Well that’s it, so Far at Least, of course the day here so far isn’t even half way over yet which as far as I can say still leaves plenty of time for Future possibilities that may be hurtling My way and Yours even as you finish reading this horribly ill-composed piece.

~Good Luck To The both of Us



Tuesday, September 18, 2012

...And Laugh

These last few months or so I’ve been responsible for taking care of a young man who happens to have some substantial challenges in his life. Terrific guy and who among us can truly say that we are without the need for help in some form or another from the others in our daily migrations within our often, at times, chaotic existences….

At any rate, several weeks ago my friend and I were travelling in my car on a Saturday towards one of the movie theatres here in the western “hills” of North Carolina where we now both live. As we approached our destination that afternoon my cellphone rang w/a caller ID which indicated that it was a friend calling not for me but for my current travelling companion, who, at the time, was napping. As I swung into the theatre parking lot I nudged this sleeping person awake and handed him the phone w/his buddy holding on the other line. ~Now I probably should mention that at times I can be cheap and that my cellphone and network carrier reflect this abhorrent quality of mine~ ,upon gripping this sub-standard cellphone of mine and uttering hello my service dropped this seemingly important incoming call. –Turbo semi-wakeful Agitation descended so quickly at this distressful occurrence that I barely had time to slip into a parking space before trouble began brewing within the very tight confines of my car. Thinking fast on my feet I stopped, parked, got my phone back and related to my companion that perhaps we could redial the recently “dropped” call from the movie parking lot area with better results and hopefully regroup our collective composure by absconding from our vehicle for a more suitable reception area. As I made my way out of the parked car and moved around to his side to try and get better reception I noticed with some degree of  my own personal agitation that he was gripping the interior door handle and frantically attempting to open his door in order to get out quickly. As I observed this unfold in the slow motion way that seems to only happen when things are about to go completely awry I blinked once and the next image that my brain processed was one of him red faced and even more angry than before holding what just moments before had been my interior-connected door handle (plastic housing and all) in his clenched right hand! –Yay.

So…for the last several weeks and to this very day still, in order to open the passenger side door of my car it is now necessary to first open the passenger side window (electric windows!) and then stick your (his) arm out the window in order to use the outside door handle and abscond from my Honda. –Yay.

Two weeks after this initial excitement I began to notice some relatively gradual change in the speed in which my driver’s side window (did I mention –electric?) was going up and down. Soon thereafter it quit going down altogether and I have had to leave it in the up and “locked” closed position. (~This will make more –or less, sense shortly.).

Getting closer to this present time frame, just shy of two weeks ago I was involved in a one man car accident. I currently reside in a trailer park development here in the mountains (-don’t ask) and the trailers are placed  going up this rather steep hill (-read mountain). The units are also aligned horizontally to one another so as when you are ascending this slope going up you have to turn in rather quickly to the left in order to come in for a “landing” and park next to your own little singlewide castle!

Now on this particular early evening as I was taxiing in upon arrival I made a simple yet problematic mistake. I entered my runway -(read driveway) at the wrong angle and instead of hitting the tarmac (-read driveway pavement) I came in “hot” hitting the rain soaked slippery hill just next to my landing-way, on a very steep incline where gravity wasn’t favorable to stooge-like overcorrections.

My car wheels spun for purchase but a Honda ain’t a Hummer and I slipped down this fairly steep incline into my neighbor’s yard/driveway pinning my car against a tree on the driver’s side and their beat up Oldsmobile against my back bumper. As I snapped out of my current state of semi-shock induced from sheer stupidity I made a rash decision to open my driver’s side door and remove myself from this mess of a situation which I had so recently created. I opened my door just barely enough to stick my left foot out and escape when it became apparent, rather quickly, that my car was still rolling and that the tree alongside my door was pressuring said door closed quickly against my now stuck b/n the doorframe and door foot. –Problem!

I jammed my right foot back down on my brake pedal to prevent the car from lurching further backwards and at the same time I slammed my left wrist and hand against the door panel to create some space so that I could pull my pinned ankle back within the car to safety. Thankfully this maneuver was successful and I was able to rock the car back and forth enough w/gas and brake action to remove myself from the scene of the scene as it were and make some sort of apology to my hillbilly neighbors. –Yay.

-I should probably quickly add that my “roommate” had just that day moved on, rather abruptly I should add, to another living arrangement (-read, he was not in the car at the time of this incident and therefore not in harm’s way at said time) and that there were some pretty new as well as pretty unsettling financial concerns related to this piece of my day as it unfolded here.

Because of this newest, (at least to this point in my story –believe me it gets “Better”), wrinkle (pun?) and the physics that mass and velocity in regards to cars and trees and Oldsmobiles and Hondas can and do create….now my driver’s side door can no longer be opened from the outside (-read, it has to be accessed from the inside door exclusively). Also because of the mangled metal damage caused by this ridiculousness, this same said door is askew in that it hinges and “hangs” pointed up and out in relationship to my doorjam with about a 3 inch gap that now lets the air (and rain) in throught this orifice –a real custom job let me tell you.

(*Remember, if you will, that my driver’s side window no longer goes up and down).

The day after this interesting occurrence I visited a guy that I know down in the valley because I had noticed that given the way my driver’s door now hangs my interior door light that is on the door panel of the drivers side stays on all the time and I was concerned that this might be a drain on my car battery. Dave is fairly mechanical and I felt that maybe he could be some assistance in helping to determine whether or not I needed to be concerned about it.

Dave decided to disconnect the idiot button that is supposed to depress when you are normally able to fully close your car door (-mine no longer closes completely although it does close enough to stay shut while driving –Yay!). Ok so this guy disconnects this “button” –disengaging the wire that it was connected to and shuts the driver’s door to see if in fact this light will now go off.  As soon as he shuts the door my car alarm begins going off and the power doorlock engages and my car locks up! Apparently this button was also connected to the security anti-theft/doorlock operating system too (“knee-bone connected to the thigh-bone” crap). I would push the button on my Honda key to unlock the door and the door locks would unlock and then just as quickly lock back down –it was sick, but frankly funny in a disturbing kind of way! Finally we were able to get in from the passenger side door (remember –no access from the driver’s side door because of my current faux pax) and reconnect this stupid “idiot button” so that although the interior door panel light would still be continually burning –at least I could continue to gain entry via the passenger door if still only from the outside!

As I left Dave’s hose, (-he actually lives in a real house!), I lit up a cigarette. I reached over the automatic gear lever to open my car’s ashtray and as I touched it, it broke into two pieces in my hand. It Broke. REALLY –came apart in my hand from me touching it apparently~

So anyhow as I write this today my recently “old” roommate has moved back into my trailer and so that part of my discombobulated life has been readjusted so to speak. It is so funny how the things that we often take for granted can change in such seemingly dramatic ways so very quickly –both good and bad, they quite simply Can and Do and Will and you just can’t always be prepared to do much more than roll with the punches. ~Oh yea…and Laugh…never forget to Laugh…!