Fire Up The Searchlights !
PEOPLE COME AND PEOPLE GO. That is the nature of life. They are here one minute and then, without warning they are – somewhere else.
I love a mystery – don’t you?
PEOPLE COME AND PEOPLE GO. That is the nature of life. They are here one minute and then, without warning they are – somewhere else.
I love a mystery – don’t you?
NO MATTER WHERE WE HAVE BEEN – No matter where we are now – it is where we are going that matters more. We can’t change the past. Things will never be the way they once were, like it or not. Our Present is squeezed by so many outside forces that are beyond our control, but it is Tomorrow that we can plan for.
I’VE BEEN CATCHING SOME FLAK about a recent posting where I spoke about the hairstyle of the female baristas at St. Arbucks. I can handle the flak – I’m used to it.
INFORMATION HAS REACHED these tender ears that the engagement of Charles Manson and Afton Elaine Burton aka “Star” has been called off. The bride is distraught and the groom has stormed back to the far corner of his cell to be alone.
Boy, there is a real hoo-haw going on about whether or not kids should be immunized against a number of diseases.
It appears to me that the bulk of the screaming and pontificating about “freedom” is coming from the arugula and quinoa crowd, aka the parents who were themselves immunized as children, but who now think that risking their children is a good way of showing the world their Haight-Ashbury free-spiritedness while thumbing their nose at “The Man.”
THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE weekend all I saw and heard on my TV was that there was a monster winter storm coming. The talking heads on The Tube were using terms like, “Storm of the Century,” and “Once in a Lifetime Storm.” They were showing pictures from the “Blizzard of 1978.” That was the one that sent me scampering off to snow-free California.
Uh – oh. Brace yourself.
I suppose that no matter what I write about and post here someone will be unhappy about it. I can live with that, but apparently others cannot. That, as I am wont to say, is their problem. I see no need for them to try to make it mine.
When I started this blog, more for my own amusement than anything else, I stated that it will consist of whatever coasts across my mind. Many things do waft by, but if I wrote about all of them I would need a personal secretary, a bottomless coffee pot, and some serious bandwidth. Since I have none of those things I must pick and choose what will show up here. I tend to select those things that amuse or amaze me. I choose to avoid the things that sadden or anger me. I have enough stomach acid. I don’t need any more.
The reason I bring this up is that this morning someone said to me that I should use my blog to express anger and outrage about the various issues that upset him and should upset me. When I suggested, politely I reassure you, that he should start his own blog, he said that he was too busy and didn’t have the time.
This is the same person I see always decked out with various colored ribbons to express their concern for a multitude of causes. When I suggested that, to me, it seems that he is more concerned with having the appearance of caring rather than actually caring for real. His ribbons are worn to impress other ribbon wearers, and to make him feel superior to those without ribbons, not to actually do something. After all, he is too busy.
I suppose that I could have gotten nasty and bluntly told him to mind his own business and to have a nice day being a hypocrite. I didn’t because he already knows, deep down, that he is a hypocrite and he must be used to having people telling him to piss off. After a while even the sharpest thrown rock doesn’t have as much impact.
In what was supposed to be a rebuttal, he announced that he has never actually read anything I have posted on this blog. I can live with that too. I am also too busy – to care about ninnies like him.
Maybe I should pin a ribbon to my shirt? Perhaps a nice clear ribbon so that everyone will know that I care about transparent jackasses more than they do. Just thinking about it I’m already feeling better about myself -superior, even.
And now we return you to our regularly scheduled broadcast.