THE HIGH ROAD

THE HIGH ROAD

 

This is one of those conversations we are not having, but should.  In America, and just a few weeks or less before the World Series Baseball Game, will be played.  Without the New York Yankees, I feel as if something legendary is missing.  The Older Generation is all but gone.  I am next.  And came to the conclusion that I wanted to take the high road with you, but then I saw the frown and the waving finger and a cautionary sign, as you whispered in barely auditory verse, “Don’t Go There.”  

 

The effect was chilling.  Froze me in my tracks.  Now stalled, and wondering if I should abandon The High Road Approach.  Open for discussion, my blog for this day, The High Road.

Wonder what lies ahead for me.  Word has it the high road is strewn with stones and Stoners, and just taking this word stream in that direction, is a buzz killer. And wanted to find out, what that is about, but not really.  In my father’s day, every conversation took the High Road, and did not contain vulgarity and swearing.  No WTF and other insinuations that suggest, more questions than answer.  

Not saying that his generation had all the answers, what with dropping the big one to end World War II.  How moral was that, but he said, “Saved Lives.”  And I believed him.  Was involved.  Risked his life.  Back in the day, it was known, integrity is telling the truth.  And that is where I am today.  Silent Majority.  Silent and The Stone doesn’t say much.  Blows smoke, but mostly in the rear view mirror it is observed.  Faulty Valve.  Something more to get fixed, but with gas the price of cotton candy, around $6 a gallon.  Ok that is an exaggeration, but not by much.  Has me walking.  All By Myself.  

Choice and Freedom.  Where Do You Want To Be.  Name your destination.  High Road.  Direct route.  Standing Still.  Saying very little.  Stone Deaf.  And I wonder.  What lies ahead for me.

In the groove and trust the journey.  So to speak, I am not saying too much.  Has to do with backtracking and justifying my presence and lots of situations where somebody is talking, about the High Road and honesty and integrity.  And by the time I get it all sorted out, I realize.  They are telling me what I want to hear.  The Truth is, she said, “Don’t Go There.”  Is where we shake hands, separate and go it alone.  

 

No agreement and I like my way.  Stoner Heaven and The High Road.  Won’t know what to say until I get there, spend some head-time, and then come down to share with you, the magnificent view I had.  Or didn’t.  Eagle Scout eyes, slightly red.  Somewhat disappointed, but not really.  Found an alternative reality, doing okay so far.  Hypocrisy avoidance.  Being brutally honest in the sense that this is what its all about.  The conversation we are not having, but should.  

 

On shaky moral ground, but just waiting.  Out in the other Washington, where I find my walk and talk in high mountain tones, am taking that road where silence prevails, and waiting to see, if elections and the vote turns out to be, The High Road. 

On the ballot, legalizing marijuana.  Setting people free.  Giving them an Out of Jail Card in the game.  And I am thinking.  Wait and See.  And do what she does.  “Don’t Go There. On The High Road.”  And I wonder, what lies ahead for me, on this stoney path.  The Path Not Taken.

Not yet.  But do Vote.  

 

In the groove and trust the journey.  So to speak.

The High Road. 

And World Series Baseball, without the

New York Yankees.  How good is that?

And she said, “Don’t Go There.” 

And am lost.  Damn Yankees.  

 

ANORAK-WEARING GOOD GUY

ANORAK-WEARING GOOD GUY

I am in desperate need.  I need to write a blog.  That it pleases me or makes me content with the subject matter or the style points or gathers a comment field that amuses, matters little.  Once a week.  Twice a month.  More than three times a year.  My blogging habit needs some repair.  In keeping with that demand, I begin my topic for today:  Anorak-Wearing Good Guy. 

And require a proper reading before you say, “Enough Already.  Click.  Click.”  Using this device to distract and displace the hollow-point feeling I get when a gun is pointed in my direction, tis best to smile when you have no clue. What to Do?   Enough said about war and peace and living in an urban city.  We do the best we can.  In The City.  

 

And yes it is true; Comic Art and Presidential Debate, broad-casted on every network, and I find it best to not talk about it much.  Silent.  Stoic.  Take Your Medicine.  Be Democratic.  Buy something or wear a vote-for-me button,  if it makes you feel better.  And that’s when I notice The Anorak-Wearing Good Guy I have become.  Almost over-night.  IS:  Waiting for you.  Come Home. I need help.  1-2-3. 

 

Weather is on the cusp of being on the banned list.  Certain things we just don’t talk about.  Religion.  Same-Sex Marriage.  Feral Cats.  Try to maintain   daily walks.  Good Twist to another day that comes before the rain and snow of winter.  Urban North and was last seen coming out of a downtown Mall/Maul.  

 

Survival of the Fittest.  New James Bond movie now being released.  UK Spy Guy:  007.  And we ask, “Why are you telling me this?”  And truth is.  “Don’t Know.”  Just trying to write a blog and then post it.  After that will pick up velocity and escape into the night.  Hood Up.  Face Down.  Amazing what you can do, when retired. 

 

And I am Top Shelf.  A little bit to the right of center.  Is a good situation for me, looking down.  Hands in pocket.  Actor mode and myth dispelling at the moment.  Looking Good.  For my age.  Everything comes with a modifier and complex explanation, that is available on demand.  But generally I am what you see.  Anorak-Wearing Good Guy with a sense of humor. 

Slightly Whack, but then if you read my blogs, you will know:  Acquired Taste.  Not for everybody.  And having said that I am now full circle.  360 degrees of turn around and thought-bending material.  Here to write a blog, not mock you.  Just saying.  Word Count is important.  From Portland to Seattle, (in 4 words), and didn’t even get dirty. 

Family-Friendly.  James Bond.  Skyfall.  UK lovely. 

And that’s it.  War on Terror and they killed the wrong guy.  Plot and Story.  Not for me.  1965 Doctor No.  Jame Bond.  I liked.  2012 and James Bond is getting old.  And I am done with it.  This blog.  This mindset.  Life in Crime and Violence.  And so I bid  you, “Good Day.”  Walking Away.  Wearing-Anorak and flashing a harmless grin.  Walking-Away.  Until Tomorrow.

 

WHAT NOW SUPERMAN?

WHAT NOW SUPERMAN?

 

It is okay to ask:  “Where Did Time Go?”  “Did I Do Kay or O’-kay?”  And more to the point of fantasy and oblivion we ask, “What Now, Superman?”  Was Superman but a character out of comic book land, and is the grandson of the publisher of DC Comics a billionaire, because back then in a simpler time, Escapism was King?  Questions and am not here to find an answer.  Am part of the stream of consequence when all things go digital, and out west on the edge of a now unspoiled stream, sponsored by the environmentalist, I. M. Green, salmon frolic in the spray, sentimentalists like me lay on the bank with picnic basket and wine bottle in hand, counting Old Growth Trees and rejoicing in the fact, we have technology now.

 SAVE THE WORLD.  ( if you can.) 

Be My Super Hero. 

The powers then that made a nuclear bomb, and yes it was used in war and was dropped on warriors and people.  Not sure who died and who survived, but that generation is almost gone now.  A few survivors and they can give us stories and names, but more than that, if they speak to me, they might be able to complete my thought and theme for today, “What now, Superman?”

Not sure I am a fan of Small-ville.  I like my Super Heroes big.  Super Size it.  Obesity will come and go.  Am dying to try out the next diet fad.  We come and we go.  We are willing.  We are hostile.  Jimmy Olsen was Superman’s pal.  Newspaper junkie, and we all know.  Going Out Of Business. Local Paper – 10 Cents-Small-ville Journal 1954.   Where does time go?  How bad can it be, from age 15 to age 30. 

The Glory Years. 

And is part of history that Superman’s pal, Jimmy Olsen is/was an American comic book series character published by DC Comics from October 1954 until March 1974, spanning a total of 163 issues.  The original.  A Geek.  News Print.  Not digital.  And those who read this now, ask:  “What is he talking about?”  And that is why I say, “What now, Superman?”  Is there any money to be made.  Presidential and Vice-Presidential Debates.  What are they talking about?  Old People on stage.  Talking.

Sounds like my parents. 

Good question.  A Bunch of Malarkey.   Exposed for what it is.  Politics.  What does this have to do with me?  Just asking.

 

Caught in the middle.  Was alive in 1954 when Superman was a new creation.  Pulp Fiction.  More like comic book and pictures, and I was not yet bi-lingual.  Learning my A-B-C’s and basic math.  At the time it didn’t add up for me, I was little.  But now.  Omg!!!  The big question:  “What now, Superman?”

 Is like the world is going to pot.  Smoking and doing a line.  Things get hazy, but then we recover and go to work.  Live for the weekend and free time and more lines.  Lines of departure and looking for something to keep the buzz going.  Maybe.  Mostly I scratch my head.  When they write about me, I don’t want to be a fictional character, based on the need to escape and yes, young or old, we have to ask, “If I was the last man on earth,  “Would I Do Kay or O’-kay?” 

And I can see it clearly now.  Salmon and Trees.  Sunshine.  Technology.  No need to be the last man on earth.  Have the power.  Can do something to make it all better.  Not fictional character at all.  Am real.  Keeping it Real.  No, I won’t vote for you.  It’s a joke.  Maybe you are too. Who Knows?  Not I.  

In front of the people.  Presidential and Vice-Presidential Debate.  And I cover my head.  Duck for Cover.  Ask:  “What now, Superman?”  And then retreat into the shadows and prepare for winter.  Chilly.  November Elections in America.  But is our lot, so  Vote. 

And if you must find a choice outside of the establishment and people you saw talking malarkey on TV, well then.  Just vote and write in, in your own way, your man or woman or favorite Dawg,  who sees things as you do.  Just Vote.  Pencil in.  Digital Protocol.  Hello World Vote For Me.  I. M.  Green, no wait changed my name and mind.  Time waits for no one.  Getting old but still flying around.  Vote For Me.  I. M. Superman.  2012.

RED ROBE

THE RED ROBE

Our theme for today is Red Robe.  Something we can put on and wear, and feel good about in the morning.  And morning appearance can be an issue, especially now in this modern age, where many tasks of the routine are scheduled by your computer, including the lights and building heat and the coffee pot.  So the lights come on, its morning and it doesn’t matter that you might be retired like me, it’s a matter of keeping up appearances, doing the routine and feeling good, even when caught on camera. 

LEAVE YOUR WOLF OUTSIDE MY DOOR

leave your wolf outside my door and then come and sit a while

 

And this happens a lot.  Gear up.  Out to the front room, computers on and warmed up and in the corner an alert button is blinking.  Notification that you are not the first one up.  Around the world are friends and family, checking in and just being part of your daily routine.  Feeling good about the morning and starting and living through another day.  Part of the theme and my routine, to do certain things.  A Life in Morning.

 

For a while I have gone silent.  No Blogs.  Based on forced change and the small amount of change I had in my pocket, was a matter of resources and what was important in my day and routine and life.  Taught me a good lesson, which I will repeat here and now.  And that would be:  Change is Constant.  Friends come and go.  And most of all I learned:  I can live without my computer, but not without my computer-friends.  

 

And true to form this report includes the finding that blogging is a unique form of correspondence.  Not social networking.  And is not as popular for a society faced with time-based-decision-making and running short on gas and other resources, and so many spend their time on Face-Book and places similar.  The Blog Space might not be for you, and so we lose our connection.  Perhaps. Or on any given day, he appears.  And this is living proof that Blogging is part of my routine.  I write.  I post.  I am friendly. 

Seeing is evidence that he is back.  Daily or more than once a year, his blogs appear.  Makes me laugh.  I comment.  “Having a good time, are you?”  One thing leads to another.  Was talking to a friend on the computer just the other day.  The Subject came up.  Red Robe.  Talking about how we had been friends on the internet for a few years and it was missed when I stopped blogging.  Change of mind and habit and location.  Made an effort to keep in touch.  Is what friends do. 

But then I had to remind myself of how many had come and are now not to be found. “Internet Disappearing Act.”, is what I call it.  And we get use to it.   The services that once were free, need funding.  Cluttered with advertising and pop-ups, we just stop coming around.  Real Life and walk-to family and friends and neighbors and work demand our allegiance   True for me, so I project that this is true for others.  We make choices.  Blog.  No Blog.  Red Robe.  And appearance is important.  Be attractive.  Be friendly.  Just Be.

So that is what I was talking about with my friend just the other day.  Another year and still connected.  Calls for a celebration or some ritual to show this is a happy occasion.  And it was said.  “Christmas is coming.”  And this was not to imply I needed to send a present, nor money.  Was more like, “Well friend, maybe I should put my Red Robe on.  And then come online and visit.”  Christmas and Holidays and Celebration.  Has been a long time.  We are friends.

It was suggested just yesterday.  A Fresh Start.  No History.  But then here I am.  Suggesting I have a history with some one I met on the internet.  That we would dare to wear our Red Robe, and  plan a visit during the holidays.  A visual session and fun and chatter.  What people do when they are being holiday social. 

 

And I had to laugh.  “No History.” I said.  But now I am connecting with another.  Suggesting a chain of events and telling a story.  Having fun.  And why not.  The Theme is Red Robe.  And yes, appearance is important.  How you appear to me is part of the ritual that occurs.  When I appear.  I write.  I post.  I talk to you.  Why.  Because we are friends.  And I like it.  This blogger-connection.  Hence.  I am back.  Suggesting an adventure.  And a Red Robe, left to your imagination.  I say.  “Have a good day.  Missed you.”

 

FRESH START

FRESH START

Fresh Start is the theme.  And I will explain that in a minute.  First I must tell you that I woke up at 3 am this morning, and instead of tossing and turning in bed, and waking up the geese and live-stock, I decided to do some computer work, resulting in writing this blog, my first in a very long time.  Turns out one of my sites where I add pictures to the words, is going out of business. 

 

And they did warn me, but in many ways left me high and dry, like a boat out of water, and no place to go, and lots to do.  Retrieving blogs in their natural state became my challenge.  And all I really need to say is, “Not Happy.”  And that brings me to the present moment.  Taking a break from computer chores, to just sit and write.  Blogging is what they call it.  Private Thoughts, posted in a public place.  Many do it.  Is not unlawful.  It might be awful and nobody reads it.  This is the chance we take. 

 

And finally after a long while, I have found a replacement site, but still am hesitant.  Will write my blog like I am a newbie.  No history.  And this is where the wrinkle enters, and resides across my collar.  Boy is on a short leash.  Will write and then add pictures.  Have a finished product.  Display it.  And will do that in several places.  First will be the new blog site, where nobody knows me, and I have 0/zero page views as of this morning.  Then I will move it all to Thoughts.com, where indeed I do have history.  But over time, things change.  And a new audience comes and goes.  

And we know, that social networking is more popular than blogging.  So the population density on my space:  Stone Head; is sparse.  Again this would be because I have been so busy retrieving my blogs from 2006 to The Present.  Lots of blogs.  A lot of work.  And so you have not seen me for a while.  And if you are reading this from the new site, This is A FRESH START.  

 

And you are reading me for the first time.  Of course it might be first and last, but that is not up to me, its up to you.  And so it is, the reading lap has been turned on.  Still dark outside.  Most people are sleeping if they know what is good.  For all the others, I say:  “Good Morning.  Nice To See You.”

 

So far, so good.  Want a Fresh Start.  No History.  And will let my image and persona grow, as the Blog Count increases.  Here to say, I am hoping to make this a happy place where you come to laugh and smile and have a good time.  Which got me thinking about all the towns in the world that might possess the word:  HAPPY.  And found a good example of where I want to be at the end of the day.  Want to be happy.  Could be when the sun goes down and I am ready for a beer, that I am to be found, right here.  Right here might be, Happy, Texas.  

Turns out Happy is a town in Randall and Swisher counties in the U.S. state of Texas.  Yes, Texas is a big place, so let me give you greater detail.  Of course you have the name so can go to Google Maps and enter the name, Happy Texas.  But for now I will tell you, Happy Texas is near Amarillo, up on the panhandle at the northern section of the State of Texas. 

Enough about that.  

Be Happy.  Regardless of where you are.  That’s what I plan to do.  Want a Fresh Start.  So far, so good.  No History.

 

So I don’t want to over-stay my welcome.  I might be the new kid on the block.  So I won’t be here long, but will be back soon.  Seeking a happy place and a pleasant state of mind.  Visiting Towne Center and if the mood strikes will go shopping for a new outfit.  Will limit what I do and say, as this is all new for me.  Fresh Start.  No hesitation.  5 more years of blogging is my intention.  And so here I am.  

At the north entrance of this here town, HAPPY, Texas.  Happy Hour menu is in front of me.  Building an appetite and will have a beer.  Join me if you have time.  Has been a long day.  Got up early.  3 a.m.  Walking around Happy-town, and don’t mind a little company.  Not as happy as the name suggest, my feet hurt now.  Will pull up a chair.  Wave at the waitress as she walks by, and sip a beer and contemplate my Fresh Start in a place called Happy, Texas.  

 

And she hands me the menu and points at the sign:  NO SMOKING.  So now the puff-stick goes out.  “The beer is coming.”, she says. And that is how it all begins.  5 more years of blogging.  My Fresh Start.

A PLACE TO SIT WITH TIRED FEET TUCKED UNDER