There Ain't No Cure For The Summertime Blues...

As I sit here , in what is officially Summer, and listen to the rain outside the back porch..Come On! This is Washington State..Why do you think the Cullins Live here ( sorry for the Eclipse reference...really)I'm thinking there is SO much to say. Jerri and I went to the Fremont Solstice parade ( in the rain) and got to see the Naked/painted bike riders..an adventure that is now in my "Bucket List"..the riding painted that is. We went to a very nice Party that was celebrating the 44th wedding anniversary of a fella that works at Jerri's station...I thought I was back in 1967..and this is not a slam in any way, shape, or form. I was alive in 1967 and there was a certain feeling," Groovy", perhaps? that existed then. This Party had that feel to it. Lots of Music. Anyone who wanted to could get up on the brand new-built stage and "Jam"...ah, The good Old days. Jerri having not been born yet relied on me as a sort of Guide to the event...since I wasn't "Stoned" I did my best to describe what is for the most part indescribable even for those of us who were around back then. But, that is not what I want to talk about. I had a Nephew, his name was Jim ( I called him Jimmy) and he died a month ago. He was Jerri's age. I was married to Janet ( The Ex-Wife) for 25 years and since my Family is all back East, this was my Family for all those years. I really liked them and always felt they accepted me and liked me in return, but since the divorce ( I want to say here the only reason I know how to spell "Divorce" is because of the Tammy Wynette song, which I played 10,000 times during my Radio Career) I have not seen any of these people, or had any contact with them. So there was that....and Jerri said she would come with me to support me in this "Uncomfortable" situation, we would go as a couple..a Team, and do this together. The Family was going to meet the "Other Women" Jimmy had a Ton of friends and the VFW Hall was packed which was a good thing I feel. And what happened, happened...the People I loved the most, accepted me as if time never passed and accepted Jerri, because they knew I was happy and that she was the best "Thing" for me ( or I'd like to think they thought that way). Those who do not have a clue that life is short ( and at an event such as this, makes you wonder)and that there is no time to waste on past stuff that you cannot change...friendly?...not so much. I did get to see "My Boys" though...I'm not really their Dad but I have always felt they were..and I loved them as though they were my own..and we met a new GrandBaby to boot. It was a very bittersweet afternoon. But I'm glad I went, and glad Jerri went with me, and glad it's behind me. There was a wise old Guy, Herb Lehman..the father of my first wife, who said there was an expression in the "speak-easy" days of 1929, "When the wagon comes, they all bums"...meaning if the joint got busted it didn't matter who you where or what you did..the Police we're taking you in. Kinda like death..it "don't matter who you are, or where you're from"..it comes for you...all you can try to do is live the best life you can, love as best as you can.....and try not to pick your nose in Public. That's all folks.

I'm Late,I'm Late for a very Important date...

I have 5 minutes...Yes! it was a fabulous weekend..No, I haven't challenged the Blog Photo-Gods yet to make them bend to my Will...Jerri had her car broken into...and while she was trying to mold a response to a complaint letter I was taking a nap! When I awoke I thought" Egad! I have dropped the ball here!" This is my help to her in that regard: Dear Mr and Mrs X______, We take customer service quite seriously at my Company and at my Station and so I take your unkind comment about one of my employees like a dagger to my heart, one that is twisted ever so slowly, while you watch the agony in my eyes, the blood gushing slowly down my ample chest.( too many vampire books lately, perhaps?) You see, we obtain our employee's newly born, and plant the seeds of "Customer Service" deep into their newly formed brains, ensuring total obedience, a "You're way better than I am" attitude, and "if I leave my lips upon your ass too long I am truly sorry" smile that will not leave their faces. If one of our emplyee's fails to "graduate" from our Breeding Home, they are immediately sent to work at Airport Ticket Front Desks...a fate one one wishes, I assure you. After reviewing the complaint you sent to My Boss and his Boss, The Washington State of ******, I can only come to one true conclusion..You Sir, are cheating on your wife with Goats, and she does not mind at all, in fact if you were to ask her she would be more that happy to join in...I say this with the utmost authority as I have studied the type of persons, with great detail, that cause such grief over 5 minutes of their time ..5 minutes out of two years, and with that knowledge I have also come to know that you don't give a shit about anything but yourself. Rest assure, The Lane Operator in question will be killed and served at the next "Bite of Seattle". We will supply you to what vendor and booth She (He) will be presented, as you may have the opportunity.....Uhm, maybe it's better She didn't get me to help with this letter of apology...Have a Nice Day..and I'm saying this with a "If I have left my lips upon your ass too long I am truly sorry" smile......no, really

To Be Continued...Plan "B' Or "The Blogmonsters fight the King for Pic Placement

Plan "B"..I Know plan "B" I Lived it

(Prelude)Once upon a time there was a fair maiden, actually, she was a Queen, but still fair as she never cheated on things..and her name was Jerri. As the story goes, Queen Jerri was going to turn 40 (gasp! says the audience.. but alas true)and there existed a Plan "A" for this large and wonderful occasion. This Plan "A" was Far Off Miami Beach...drinking Cuban rum drinks, served by Cuban Beach guys, and all this hosted by The Irish Catholic Sister-in-law and her Wonderful Cuban Husband Miguel, what a Fabulous Plan it was...and truly deserved the grand title of "A" as far as plans go...But the forces of Evil came as a cloud over the fair town of Graham, and threw a cosmic monkey wrench into the works of the beloved Plan"A" "What to do?" The Queen's King wondered. And there was born a New Plan...A plan so wondrous...so ingenious...so freakin' fabulous..it could only be described as "Plan B"...and this is it's story. Plan "B" went as follows....... The Emerald City. While Dorthy had many obstacles to over come, The King knew many sort cuts to access the Emerald City, one of those was interstate 5 which by-passed those trees that threw apples at you and the poppi field that made warm blooded Peeps and creatures fall asleep...The king had learned many things from repeated viewings of " What's up with these stupid people" as he liked to call the 1939 film. Going by all the "Bad stuff" he was soon at the Queens Realm in The Emerald City..here to be known as Seattle, because that's kind of what's it's really called. The King knew there was only one castle that was truly worthy of the Queen,...and that was the 102 year old Sorrento Hotel. And though The King Commanded the photo to be placed here...the gods have decided otherwise...

My Sweet Young Thang....

This will be quick. Just a note that Jerri, the love of my life...the reason I put socks on my feet every morning, as opposed to my ears, will be turning 40 next week. I know, 40!?! why that ain't nothing but a word! Been there done that ( but please don't ask me exactly when as it was SO long ago, and things get hazy after awhile.....)but the fact is She hasn't, and I think I understand the way she feels. Forty just sounds a whole lot more serious than thirty. You could be found with a party hat and clown makeup on, bent over the hood of a car with a scoop of Starbucks Mocha Fudge Ice cream shoved up your ass, and people would say,"Oh! She's Thirty? What'd you expect?" But Forty...not so much. The world says,"Well, come on now you're moving up there...you gotta start getting serious about stuff." I've really never bought into that...and I hope Jerri avoids that trap too. I love her SO much,..she will always be My Sweet Young Thang,..and no matter how she chooses to view the new decade before her, she'll always know she's a shitload younger than me, and always will be.

School Dazed...

So, it was like so many other days, except I was off ( I mean off from work, not my head, which would in fact be like so many other days) when I pull in front of our mailbox, put the key in, twist it, open the mailbox door and peek inside. There lurking in the deep abyss was a large envelope, addressed to me, sent by my Sister Debi, from far off Miami. "What could this possibly be?" I muttered...well, actually I said that quite clearly as if I mutter I tend not to understand myself..but I do digress. I took the large envelope home and carefully opened the top, paying attention not to rip the mysterious contents, and dumped it out on our kitchen counter. Whatever was in this envelope was old, that was to sure, as a musty smell followed the documents as they found rest on the counter.What I discovered, what my Sister sent me, were Class photo's from first grade through Junior High School, along with report cards, and various ancient parchments, that had been sitting in a bag, forgotten, for the past fifteen years. A bag that was marked by my late Mother with "Michael" written on it, that found it's way through all these years and miles to my kitchen counter." Un-Freakin'believable" I thought, as I sifted through these old pieces of memory. I looked at the class photos and had a hard time spotting myself ( except for 3rd grade..all the boys had on clean white shirts, and there I was the only kid wearing plaid,..Hey! I didn't get the memo,..OK?). And as I looked things over a distant memory began to weasel it's way to the forefront...something I had kept repressed over the many years since first grade,...something that came to me and explained why I was never really "Good" at school. My mind when back to my very first day at PS 201, six years old, and ready to impress Mrs. Weiss with what I knew to be true. That I was Freakin' Brilliant...the smartest, most well behaved child that was ever spit out of a uterus! Other kids need not even try to come up to my standard of wonderfulness,...they wouldn't even come close. I was feeling smug by the end of that first day, quite sure I had hit "My" mark, and was sure I had displayed my superior Intellect and upbringing to everyone who had the chance to bask in all of my six year old glory. Feeling this way I listened carefully to Mrs. Weiss's last instructions of the day."Children", she said," It's time to go home now. I want you to all sit up straight, with your hands folded in front of you, and the people who do that best will be released first. when I call your name pick your chair up, put it on the desk, and then you may leave." I thought,"OMG!How freakin' easy is this?" Looking around me I thought there might be some kids in here who might be challenged by such instructions, But, "Davey Crockett!", I exclaimed (to myself of course), I got this one aced!!.just another chance to show Mrs. Weiss, that I am in fact, the most fabulous child she would ever have the pleasure of teaching! Man, at that moment, My life was Good! So, I sit up as straight as I can, fold those fingers in front of me, and practice putting my chair on the desk in my head, being careful to exhibit just the right amount of superiority a truly perfect example of six years old maleness, should display. At the sound of Mrs. Weiss's voice I was already starting my move to stand up. " Benny Coen..you may leave." I was like,"Huh? Wha-?" I thought How is That possible? I mean, I was looking straight ahead, and couldn't really see Benny, maybe he had some moves I didn't know about. I made a mental note that if we ever played this game again, I was totally going to sneak a peek at Benny and check his stuff out...but no worries, I'm next so I better get my self reading for my Grand Exit. I got ready to stand again. "Sheila Burnstein, You may pick up your chair and leave." Sheila Burnstein!?? A freakin Girl?! I thought for a moment that maybe I mis-heard, but as hard as I tried to find similarities between Sheila Burnstein and Michael Gorry, I just couldn't seem to make it work.It was true, Mrs. Weiss hadn't called me. I remember thinking, "This has gone too far! I know sitting up straight better than anyone...why, My Dad's Military...Sheila's Dad owned a dry cleaners for cryin' out loud!! "Ruben Swartz, you may put your seat on the table...you're dismissed" "Steven Friedmann, when you put your chair on your table you may leave." On and On it went...soon I was sitting in a jungle of upside down wooden chairs, their gray metal legs sticking up into the air, looking like one of the NYC "waterbugs" after my Dad chased it down and assaulted it with the Sunday Times Book Section, while my Mother screamed over and over, "Kill It!Daddy Kill It!!" I could hardly see the front of the classroom. Soon, I was the only child left .I remember thinking, What does this woman want from me? If I sat any straighter I was sure I was going to cause major harm to my back that would prevent me from ever making the major leagues and by now my interlaced fingers were blue and cold...should they be purple and colder? And there I sat, watching the clock above the front blackboard, watching time go by...5 minutes, 10 minutes...15 minutes. Mrs. Weiss was busy, looking down at her desk..paying absolutely no attention to me and I was seriously rethinking my concept of sitting up straight, when I just had to ask what was it that I was doing wrong.From my seat, I raised my purple fingers, and said, "Mrs. Weiss?" And you know what her response was?...She Screamed! Flung papers in the air and shot straight up from her chair knocking it over." Michael!! What are you still doing here!!??" Yup, she forgot I was even there. She apologised, said she couldn't see me, and said it was OK to put my chair on the desk and leave...which was easier said than done as my body had atrophied all the while I was displaying my perfect form wondering what the fuck wasn't I doing that everyone else seem to know. This is the memory that came back to me from looking at report cards and pictures from long ago...and I wonder where I got the feeling there was no pleasing these folks...The Teachers...scarred at such a young age...for life. Why if it weren't for that first traumatic day of school,..I believe I could have become President...or a circus clown, or something in between.

Scattered thinking...

It seems to me I often start a thought, and then lose sight of the " Thought Goal". And I stress over this..one more reason not to blog ( Jesus C. Homesteader! We have washed our uniforms with an ink pen and they are all fucked up! Our Spring is MOST un-springlike and I don't know how to address our Plants! My Gay Subaru has a shimmy and what will that cost me....). If you think about it there are a lot of "Things" to occupy my ( your) time.. a Blog should not be a one of those things. But,... a blog is something unique, and it lets me tell you something...when I have time...and when you have time.. to read it and when those two meet we "high Five" and connect. What I wanted to tell you is this, I have a Mortgage. You might look at that statement and say, " Fuck Who doesn't?" Well, the answer would be ME..not ever, until now... until Jerri. I have for the first time in my life, well,.. owe the Bank more than I ever imagined could be possible...( I must say if I could owe them more I would..fuck 'em) but on the upside of this "strange" fact is I own ( kinda) a house for the first time in my life. I thought this morning as I walked out onto our patio..and looked at "Our" property and thought.." Well, I'll Be 90 when I pay this off..but this is one of the coolest feelings I've ever know." Just sayin'