I can hear the wings rhythmically beating against the body as it flies in circles about two foot over my head. The sound that I know so well is back! I roll out of bed quickly in my attempt to turn on the bedroom light, and open the bedroom door. Nothing is working very well at one-thirty am.
Vain attempts appear to be the order of the day, but after five tries, one success. I fling open the door and it follows me out of the room. Then, I scramble for my flashlight on the shelf. Dimly it illuminates a much larger arena
Up, down, around and around flies the bat.
I jerk open the heavy wooden outside door hoping he will make his escape, but he chooses to land and hide instead. An hour later, with the aid of my diminishing return of a flashlight, I track and net him. Catch and release. As I finally lay back down in bed, I hear the faint sound of tiny wings against my window pane like "Rats feet over broken glass."
I stopped to give Mike a hand today. Not the same situation, but it did remind me of fifth grade in Carsonville. Perhaps it was the pristine Allis Chalmers. I loved them even more later in life when I discovered they manufactured air craft engines.
When Michigan went to a program to recycle bottles and cans, a friend of the family went ballistic. He was a beer truck driver, and if you listened to him, it was tantamount to economic ruin for the state. Instead, the law just worked out to be a different economy for many people. Beer and pop didn't cost any less other places without the return law, but at least a person didn't get any return deposit for their investment.
Mike told me last week that Bose called him and offered to buy his radio back for $150 and sell him a new one for $500. He asked as an after thought, "What are you going to do? Take a sledge hammer to it?" The response confirmed his suspicion so he declined the offer. It was still a great radio and deserved a better fate.
Erin and Randy gave me back my Mac G4 Cube. A very generous act! The only problem was that Apple technicians wouldn't work on it anymore and steered me to eBay instead. It was too old and getting parts would be difficult. I bought another Cube for $150 and was able to swap enough parts to arrive at a working model. Now you're looking at the ultimate computer music machine of the 20th century. "A thing of beauty is a joy forever"
Crackhead had two vacations, in short order, in one of her nine lives in Florida. I think you can see in this photographic evidence some remorse on her part... then again, maybe not.
The eyes have it!
Returned from St. George Island with lots of new ideas, and a different weather pattern all together.
The road trip was flawless. The fog didn't really make any difference as I wasn't traveling very fast. The fog lights were a luxury. One of the signs that I passed on the causeway cautioned, watch for birds. I didn't see any birds, which worked out well as I was listening intently to my box cd set. The sun cleared long enough for me to take a picture of a road machine at rest.
The music looped my attention as the same song played on the bridge in as well as the bridge out.
I have a lot of respect for this man. It is sad to see him leave our world. I'm not a military guy, but integrity commands respect. The book he wrote was a chronicle of difficult times finishing in triumph.
Grace under pressure is a mark of permanence. During a press conference in the Gulf War, with the eyes of the world on him, he made a very funny remark after a convoluted explanation. " I would love to see anyone diagram that sentence!"
The bottom of the step ladder believes that one day without food and water is the crucible. Yet, I have another idea. Wealth is the knowledge that you have one song in your pocket that everyone loves and you can play it over and over as many times as you wish. It can't be worn out with your family and friends.
Tale of two Fieros and a like number of unfinished trips. When my oldest daughter graduated from AIT, I wanted to drive down with her mother and see the graduation. Without a doubt, I was very proud, but my Fiero at the time didn't appear to be in form for the journey, so I chose a different vehicle.
When I retired, my friend Randy suggested that I do something special. The first thing that popped into my brain was a road trip in my newest, old Fiero. Again, age outdistanced dreams, and I didn't take the trip.
Road trips lurch to the fore. Ringed bologna, crackers, and a box set of cassettes could be the missing key for a journey of graduation.
When I returned from Keego-Tampa and Enterprise, a cursory inspection of my laundry equipment revealed a broken clothes line. Two trees had fallen on the stand up garden and ripped down my line too. Four days of rain delayed me, but a beautiful day created the working conditions to mend that little beggar.
My arrival in Keego-Tampa prompted the remark, "You look like you just stepped out of a wind tunnel!" Well I know by now that I also need a haircut. Again, I'm behind the eight ball, shaggy hair, dirty clothes, and a cupboard that's bare.
I get to the barber shop but it is closed for lunch. I return ten minutes before it is scheduled to reopen, and there are already two people ahead of me. Looks like a little waiting time is the order of the day.
The barber asks me an immediate question. "I'm taking a survey. Did you watch the debate last night or the Tigers baseball game?" What an easy survey, only one question!
I already know the political stripe of the barber, but the other two guys are unknowns. My response is simple. "After all this time, I can believe that there are a group of undecided people still out there" The guy in the chair comments, "I'm for Obama because of the pell grants." The barber says, "I'm for freedom". I don't bite as I already know this code reflects abstractions in the body politic.
I voice my support for our President. The big guy across from me with the leather hat puts down the paper and walks out of the shop. The barber adds, "Well, I guess he doesn't like to talk politics." He never said a single word, but now I'm next in line.
