Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Spring means green stuff
Steamed
Hot humid days of spring here in Seattle and environs bring with them a renewal of such fascinating flora.
Vast herds of wild moss thundering across the yard.
Green fuzz gathering in my window sills.
Congregations of verdance on the bathroom tiles.
Mushroom families fungal parties rampaging between my toes.
The greening of the cat
Ah, spring.
Ah, pollen.
Ah, choo!
Hot humid days of spring here in Seattle and environs bring with them a renewal of such fascinating flora.
Vast herds of wild moss thundering across the yard.
Green fuzz gathering in my window sills.
Congregations of verdance on the bathroom tiles.
Mushroom families fungal parties rampaging between my toes.
The greening of the cat
Ah, spring.
Ah, pollen.
Ah, choo!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
These Days
I tried to sleep 'til 10 but when I did get up, it was only 8:30.
Boiled some water, poured a bowl of Cheerios, poured the water into a cup containing a guessed at amount of instant coffee, poured milk on the Cheerios, and put sugar on that.
While I was eating,
I was visited by the ghost of breakfast past.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Bar fight
This is what really happened.
Not what the cops said.
Not what the lawyers made out of what the cops said.
And not what the judge said, which was based mainly on his own set of prejudices.
Coming home from my guitar lesson where I was studying how to play blues, I stopped at a bar for a drink and to sit for awhile. I parked my case at a table in the back and ordered a Guinness.
This guy comes up, he's drinking wine out of one of those long stem glasses.
He starts talking to me and asks me about my music. I told him I was just learning and couldn't play very well at all.
So he says "C'mon, I betcha you can play up a storm"
I begged off "No," I said "not really, I'm just learning"
"Yeah, yeah," he says, "don't mean to pressure you. Buy you a drink?"
"Sure"
We got to talking about guitars and music and stuff.
About three beers later he asks me again to play.
Three beers is right at the edge for me and I was kind of flattered that he would ask.
Mostly, for me, it's "Do you take requests?, how 'bout "stop playing?"
So I pulled out the guitar and hit some chords.
They sounded nice.
Nobody complained.
I had another beer.
Pretty soon I was wailin', really getting into it, the guy was smiling and everybody seemed to be enjoying it, so I just kept on, getting all creative and having a good time.
But soon the beer caught up with me and I started missing the strings and whatnot.
So I had to quit.
Got a nice bit of applause.
So I packed it up and told them I had to leave.
When I stood up, I realized I had had more than I usually drink.
Feeling kind of unstable, I asked for some coffee.
My wine drinking fan got up to leave, paid for all the drinks "thanks for the music", he said.
I sat for a while, drinking the coffee.
About a half hour later I felt better and tried to stand up, but I stumbled and fell face first into the wine glass on the table in front of me. The glass shattered and cut my face up and the stem shoved up into my cheek and jammed into my sinus.
Somebody called an ambulance and the bartender tried to stop the bleeding with a bar towel.
The doctor fixed me up. It wasn't really very serious.
I think it was the ambulance guys who assumed it was a fight, and they told the cops. The cops took it from there, they wanted to know who the other guy was, I couldn't tell them anything co I had to listen to a shitload of humiliating crap
from the judge.
At least I didn't get jailed.
Anyway,couple days, I went back to the bar and asked about the guitar.
They remembered me, saved it for me, and had it stored in the back.
I felt like buying the house a drink.
But it wasn't the same people.
And I only had five bucks on me.
Friday, April 08, 2011
Tour de Beacon hill country.
18.18 miles, no yellow jersey.
Not that I didn't have the fastest time.
I had the only time,
And no jersey, of any color, was offered.
I did get up to 32.8 mph, but only averaged 8.9
Took 2.02 hours.
Lots of hills there, had to walk one of 'em.
Explored several dead ends (sometimes there are paths)looking for a way off the hill to the waterfront.
Ended up using Columbian-Spokane street ramp to the industrial area.
Didn't go to the waterfront, didn't want to do that big a ride.
puffed and panted my way back to Airport and thence to M.L.K-Henderson-Renton-Roxbury.
18.18,
8.9,
32.8,
2.02,
2055.1
April is looking up.
Not that I didn't have the fastest time.
I had the only time,
And no jersey, of any color, was offered.
I did get up to 32.8 mph, but only averaged 8.9
Took 2.02 hours.
Lots of hills there, had to walk one of 'em.
Explored several dead ends (sometimes there are paths)looking for a way off the hill to the waterfront.
Ended up using Columbian-Spokane street ramp to the industrial area.
Didn't go to the waterfront, didn't want to do that big a ride.
puffed and panted my way back to Airport and thence to M.L.K-Henderson-Renton-Roxbury.
18.18,
8.9,
32.8,
2.02,
2055.1
April is looking up.
Monday, April 04, 2011
Faith and other sources of light.
So I asked him, what motivates you? What do you believe in?
What does this picture inspire in you?
He says, "I believe that for every drop of rain that falls, something gets wet."
"Come on be serious" I counter.
"I am being serious, I only let myself believe in things that I can actually observe. They are the only things I can react to, and so few, if any, can I do anything about."
"Yeah," (me again) "that's all very nice, but it's not what I'm asking."
I think I've got him on the hook now
"What do you imagine happens where you can't see? Don't you ever speculate about the mysteries? Where do we come from, why are we here?"
"Matters of imagination I let run free," he says "but I don't believe in or assign any credence." he snorts "any thing can be anything in the mind."
"So these rain drops are just raindrops to you?"
"Not even that" the smug little smartass says, "You've shown me a picture, how do I know it's not some kind of fake?"
"Well, for inst..." I started to say.
"Could be a photomicrograph of the surface of highly polished metal."
"Well, for inst..." I started to say again.
"Or the surface of some outer space asteroid"
"Well, for inst..." I started to say once more, then changed my mind when I realized I was arguing with a figment of my own imagination.
Which is not a very productive way of filling in blog space.
I think my carotid arteries are filling up with cholesterol shutting off the flow of blood to my brain.
What does this picture inspire in you?
He says, "I believe that for every drop of rain that falls, something gets wet."
"Come on be serious" I counter.
"I am being serious, I only let myself believe in things that I can actually observe. They are the only things I can react to, and so few, if any, can I do anything about."
"Yeah," (me again) "that's all very nice, but it's not what I'm asking."
I think I've got him on the hook now
"What do you imagine happens where you can't see? Don't you ever speculate about the mysteries? Where do we come from, why are we here?"
"Matters of imagination I let run free," he says "but I don't believe in or assign any credence." he snorts "any thing can be anything in the mind."
"So these rain drops are just raindrops to you?"
"Not even that" the smug little smartass says, "You've shown me a picture, how do I know it's not some kind of fake?"
"Well, for inst..." I started to say.
"Could be a photomicrograph of the surface of highly polished metal."
"Well, for inst..." I started to say again.
"Or the surface of some outer space asteroid"
"Well, for inst..." I started to say once more, then changed my mind when I realized I was arguing with a figment of my own imagination.
Which is not a very productive way of filling in blog space.
I think my carotid arteries are filling up with cholesterol shutting off the flow of blood to my brain.
Poetry month.
Here's one of my favorites; from Finnegans Wake
Duff Mugly, who now may be quoted by very kind arrangement (his dectroscophonious phyotosensition under suprasonic light control may be logged for by our non too distant futures as soon astone values can be turned out from Chromophilomos, Limited at a millicentime the microamp), first called this kind of paddygoeasy partnershipthe ulykkhean or tetrachiric or quad-rumane or ducks and drakes or debts and dishes perplex ( Some Forestallings over that studium of Sexophonologistic Schizophre-nesis, vol xxiv,pp.2-555)
Even more relevant today.
Duff Mugly, who now may be quoted by very kind arrangement (his dectroscophonious phyotosensition under suprasonic light control may be logged for by our non too distant futures as soon astone values can be turned out from Chromophilomos, Limited at a millicentime the microamp), first called this kind of paddygoeasy partnershipthe ulykkhean or tetrachiric or quad-rumane or ducks and drakes or debts and dishes perplex ( Some Forestallings over that studium of Sexophonologistic Schizophre-nesis, vol xxiv,pp.2-555)
Even more relevant today.