Sunday, May 10, 2009

Never The Good Stuff

Much that I could write I don't, because I have to protect the innocent. The innocent would be me in this case. If I were to write about things in such a way that others were heavily highlighted, they'd be mad and I'd be sad, and that is not protection in my book.

So they have a regular auction off of 595 somewhere in Broward County That is an interesting event. Some people are obviously regulars who resell stuff somewhere. Some things go for a fraction of their worth and some goes a little bit high. Most of the things that seemed to go for too much weren't things I'd want anyway. I didn't want anything because I have not so much money, and where would I put it? I'm not shipping some giant china cabinet back to Ballistic Mountain where I have no room.

I don't care if Paul Bunyan felled the trees that Babe the blue ox took to the mill so that Michelangelo could sculpt it into a perfect piece. No room at the inn, senor.

No room at the inn is a recurring theme in my life. Probably not always obvious to others what is meant by that, which is just as well, however I'm damned sick of the feeling. Even so, it is a cumulative thing, the no room at the inn syndrome. One has to work at cultivating this defect. It is easy work, tough consequences and part of the law of the universe in action. Therein lies the dilemma. I'm good at it but it yields no benefit. Quite the opposite. Do I shred myself because I can, or just be a lousy saved soul? Great loser or less than mediocre founder?

Life can sure be confusing sometimes. Is a coin toss the right approach or do we break out the Ben Franklin balance sheet?

There may have been some things to say, but as I mentioned at the start, I must protect innocence. It's Mothers' day. I was in one place with a gazillion mothers today. They were all in some way related, either by blood--shared or let--- or by law in some sense. Someone must have done something right because the younger ones were all impressive and gracious. No one shot anyone or carried on in ways that would result in injury or worse. Must be a boring family, you are probably thinking.

Or maybe you are thinking, "I guess they aren't from Memphis". You'd be correct. It could be they save the more festive gunplay for Thanksgiving or Christmas like they do back in my previous home town. Surprising, considering this is South Florida, where not reacting to a traffic light changing color quickly enough used to be cause for other drivers shooting you and stealing your rims. One thing is just the same as ten or fifteen years ago--the heat.

It is not a dry heat, however it is a mildly breezy heat. Not necessarily easy kite flying breezy but enough to move smoke, were there any to move. Which there isn't. Big drag.

I'm impressed with the work we've done to this point. Right now it is not so easy to see where it is going, but soon enough there may be tangible result, other than the immediate mess of DEMO.

Godzilla, thew gigantic lizard, allegedly an iguana, has shown himself again, off in the distance. There are water birds and more turtles per acre than I've ever seen in any body of water. My view is of a large pondish thing with tropical whatnots and golf lands beyond. I could sit for hours and watch the wildlife, and the golfers over there. But no, the work must be done and others will do it if I don't and they'll do it without asking my advice. I can't stand to be slacking out of the loop. I don't mind if the others relax while I work. I want them to. But they never take the way of the slacker. So, to keep them from pitying me for being a slacker I have to fake it the best I can.

Thespianism at its finest.

About Me

My photo
Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


Blog Archive