I talk funny. More people should.

 

So.

I talk funny.

Not all the time.

And not the same way each time.   But....I talk funny.

Y'see, I've... lived in a LOT of different places. 

Spent first 50 years of my life living in multiple homes, in...

• Four different states
• 12 different municipalities

And, you know.

Words.

People's stories.

People AS stories

Kinda my thing.

And now I talk funny.

I was in Chicago for a few years, after leaving the deep, damned damp south, and my business calls would still regularly be interrupted by whomever I was talking to asking:

            Did you just say "Fixin'"?

Uh...I didn't NOT say it....

I'm in MI now, 20 years later, and have reached a level of  business-casual in my work email correspondence. 

        Y'all:  I just bange out a new audit, comparing.....

Noone says boo.

Almost 40 years ago, I was hanging out with a group of guys from Balto, MD, in Dayton, OH.  Was their first trip to OH, and they were getting a kick out of pronouncing it "OooooHIIIIIIIooooooooo", with their Balto accents.

Bastards.

I was born there, still have people, there.  

And I find myself calling it "OoooooHIIIIIIIooooo" but with my southern OH accent.

Which, by the way, ONLY EXISTS WHEN I'M TALKING ABOUT OHIO.

it turns on instantly.      Drives my wife crazy.   

Last night, I caught myself, and then had to try to think about the correct way to pronounce it..

And yeah, I can whip out stereotypical chicago accent like g.d. champ.  15 years, you pick up a couple of things... Most of the time it's intentional.    

Occasionally..... 

The thing about my talking funny is:  accents weren't the only things I learned, the only things I picked up, as I moved about.  Different ways of thinking, of cooking of... existing day to day.   

MS survival skills

CHI survival skills.   

VERY different skill set.

I've thought about this more and more, in a professional context, since moving back to MI.

I've worked for Colombians, the Japanese, companies HQ'd from Hong Kong to Etobicoke, Banks to Banana companies.....

And accept for when I've lived in  MI, the folks I worked with, generally had similar experiences.

Didn't notice the complete lack of this sort of thing when I was a younger fella, here.  lots of people hadn't been anywhere or done anything yet.   I DID know I was hosed one afternoon, however, when a boss told me she thought degrees were worthless. 

27 years later, I moved back.

My first boss when I moved back to MI was by far the worst, though I continue to see it even today, albeit in more benign doses.

She had lived the same 15 mile stretch of corn and meth labs her entire life.  Started at our mutual employer in high school and went exactly nowhere else.. ever.

To put it as kindly and as in-actionably as possible - She did not talk funny.    

But fuck, she really needed to be able to do so.

Jesus on the El Train - a True Story

 A true story, from my time living 'round Chicago.

I just canNOT figure out why folks automatically assume I'm telling tall tales, when I say stuff like:

 "I saw Jesus Christ on the El train once...."

(I mean, fuck.  who HASN'T?)

And when I told the tale, I was asked "Why haven't you wrote the song yet?"

Because my song writing skills are shite.

But here's a pass.  might be playing it live in a couple months.... Hoping the person who asked, will work with me to clean it up before we put it out there.

all rights reserved, cannot be used without my written consent, etc etc etc.  

AND blah blah blah.   

mustn't forget THAT.

_____________________

Jesus on the El Train

 

1.  Barely made the train after work the other night

Ran up and down, far too many flights

Winded and sweaty and flushed and sore

When Jesus walked through the door. 

(refrain)

Saw Jesus Christ on the El Train

Was it just the freak of the day?

But there was Jesus christ.  On the El train.

I wonder if he paid?

 

2.  It’s been decades since I last confessed

Not since my sins became my grins

But Jesus was standing in my el train car

The answer to the big question

 

(Refrain)

 

(bridge)

I’m sorry about that one thing, But I was young

And didn’t know

And how I handled that other thing

But I really had to go

But here’s where we’re gonna part

I’m not sorry for my lust and impure heart

 

3. Jesus Christ was in my El train car

And I had just started to get right

When he walked on past me

and out of sight

 

4.  Keep steppin’ random crazy guy

You weren’t the one from on most high

Glad you moved on before I had to start

Examining my own heart

(refrain)

_________

He was from a hispanic christian sect of some kind. when he passed me, radiating peace. he stopped to speak with two young hispanic women, who were not weirded out at all. 

I remember being really relieved when I saw that everyone could see him....

Anti-social media

 

Woke up to snow on the ground, and an ill spouse.   

Can't say as I was expecting either one of those.

So I sip a cup of coffee, quietly clean up a bit, and try not to question my lot in life, all the decisions made that brought me to this exact point.

The spouse is back in bed, and the snow appears to be melting.     Wonder what's gonna happen next?

Read this week that Trump's Truth Social is officially and thoroughly a flop.  Noone uses it.

People go on, see the lack of activity and post stuff like "Anyone here?"   Didn't help that the man himself never uses it, either.    Built his own platform, after getting kicked off all the ones that have rules, and that people actually use..........

And it got me to thinkin'.........

If noone uses your social media platform, is it still social?    How social is, say, an Ice Cream Social, if you couldn't get in at first, then when you finally could, you find noone there, and no ice cream?  Do you even bother turning the lights on?

What we have here, is anti-social media.    

Let's develop a platform for malcontents, to never use.    

Once we develop it, we'll do a big advertising spend to bring them in.   maybe ads on AOL and Myspace?    

Is pre-ghost Ebenezer Scrooge available?  we need a "face" for the campaign.

I follow my neighborhood's FB page.     It's a frequently head-scratching combination of folks still fighting to keep a speed limit from going up, that's already gone up; folks bitching about animal waste, and people running stop signs and has your trash been picked up /street plowed / power out?  

with the occasional request for information that OP could have gotten by googling.  

 

Maybe there's something to my anti-social media idea, after all.....

His brain flits around like an amped up Monarch butterfly in a field of wild flowers....

 

Kid's asleep, coffee cup is full..... might as well.  

I mean.... I'm up.

Was so nice, opening the house up a little yesterday.

Turned off furnace, was gonna be a nice night to sleep....

Been since... maybe forever, that our idiot rescue dog was in bed with us with windows open, when the thunder started...

I mean, it was one thing for the murder kitty to go nose to nose with me, and then step over my head because a window was open and she wanted to lie in it.

at least that was funny and, more importantly, during the GODDAMN DAY.

But since my wife's at work, and the teenager's going home in a bit...    

perfect day to "grumble 'round my little parlour....."(Music reference for any who might get it)

the girl she makes me pulverized, I feel so very strange...

sorry.  where was I?

oh.  Sleepy and crabby.    Yeah, that's engrossing reading right there.  

moving on.

Russia has "GONE TO WAR" with Ukraine.

Like when I was in 3rd grade, and the 8th grade bus stop bully "went to war" with me.  only... an uncountably high % worse, what with death and destruction and all....

i remember laying there in the wet grass, crying, my head throbbing from where i was punched, from behind if I remember correctly.   (he was somewhere behind me in line)

I remember thinking "If only i wasn't a liberal snowflake, worried all about cancel culture and feelings, I'd understand the big picture" of how I came to be lying there.

pretty damn advanced for a nine year old in 1976, if I do say so myself.

Was a daughter weekend, this weekend.      

tympany!!!!!!!!

.................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

'twas light.   

only ... 6 round trips in 36 hours.   

of course, to finish off the weekend with those kind of numbers, you KNOW I just didn't bother to bring her home, at least once.   

damn.   hang on....

nope.  she's asleep in her room.   Guess we ended strong, at least.   

would be lots of yelling and finger pointing, I expect, if I showed up to sunday morning rendezvous with no child in the car.     

shit.  I knew I was forgetting something.   

My bad.   

But if she turns up, here's her stuff.

Had Emergency dental surgery... five days ago.  70+ minutes in the chair, while they sawed and hammered and chipped away.  no gas.  no local.  Just numbing the destruction zone.

worked the morning before I left for it, checked emails from bed all afternoon, and was at my home office desk before 7a the next morning,      Put in six hours last sunday at the office, while in fuckton of pain because of... need for emergency dental surgery.

went home from work early on monday, day before the surgery, cus... i hurt so bad I couldn't focus.    First time calling off sick in years.   Cus.. been working from home.....

My boss texts me from his vacation.    Wanted to know if I needed to use any vaykay time  to make up lost time due to EMERGENCY SURGERY.

I'm salaried.     And because of pandemic and working from home, I've not called off sick in literally years.      

Also, I have little patience for this sort of thing.   Thankfully, it was never an issue, until a recent change in management.

After good naturedly asking him if I need photographic proof of the surgery or not, and him assuring me it was not necessary.....

"Well, take whatever you feel is correct, for a salaried person when they miss time for EMERGENCY surgery.     Let me know what you decide.    Oh, but make sure to account for the 6 hours I gave you on sunday, please, and enjoy your vacation!"

great

googly

moogly.

winter farmer's market, and if the poo shitz.....

 Good morning, sports fans.  

Coffee is good, the air is cold, and I've got nothing but time.  

(untrue.  I've other stuff, as well)

Let's, shall we?

It's 7:15 am, the dog has moved to her day location, and is resting from the journey.

Murder-kitty is in ambush position#3, just inside my bedroom door.

I'd say the morning's coming along nicely.

Later (I have to spread the fun out, so I don't explode), I'll swing by my elementary school gym, this year's location of the city's winter farmer's market.      

know what's really NOT the focus of winter farmer's market?   

farmers.

produce.    

Nary a farmer to be seen.   But the bakeries and coffee roasters and fresh meat and cheese people will be there.    probably buy a knit hat if I wanted.....

and there's always honey.     

Cuz it's a farmer's market law, I believe.  

without it, you can't include the word "farmer" in the title.  

I don't know that this is true, but people are talking...

Summer market, you plan your saturday morning 'round it.   hell, that's just to find parking...

Winter....  "I'm double parked, even though the lot's basically empty.  we can be in and out in 5.  shall we leave it running?"

looks around at the neighborhood where he went to elementary school.

"nope.  we shouldn't.   Lock it up...."

Hmmm.... Not bad, for sitting down in front of my laptop without a plan. 

probably gonna blow it, next up.

Quick.  words that don't belong together.   And... go.

Designer + dog.

interesting choice.   I was gonna go with "Stafford" and "Super Bowl", but we'll use yours.

"I want a dog, but I don't want any dog that ALREADY EXISTS ON THIS PLANET.  INVENT NEW ONES!  GET BUSY!!!!"    (followed by petulant foot stomping)

great look, folks.    Great look.  

I've a couple of draft essays in the can.   I couldn't finish them.  

lost steam, topics I thought would carry me thru didn't.. 

whatever.     

Above swerve to designer dogs is an attempt to use some of what's in the can.  A kernel of an idea not strong enough to blossom into any kind of serious word count....

it's a result of getting hit by a # of references to how we MUST always have bigger and newer and shinier, even though....  we really don't have to.  

(do these shoes match my dog?   Will I need a different dog for after Labor day?)

And to a lesser extent, the divide and disconnect between us as a people.

The "close puppy mills" / "adopt /rescue" crowd, vs. the "If you cross a shitzu and a pekinese and a miniature poodle, will it make a decent fashion accessory?" crowd.

most of us are in the middle, there, somewhere, or not part of the equation at all.    

Like with most divides and disconnects between us as a people....

 

 

  

Curbside Christmas / Excessive Idleness / birthdays on the fly. I hope you like it, at least.

 

Good morning, and happy new year.

It's a brand new year, I've most of a cup of microwaved coffee and a couple of not-quite-stale christmas cookies. 

let's get weird.       

In signing in to write this, this morning, I discovered that someone celebrated the winter solstice, by reading... my blog.  Like... a whole lot of it.

Every so often, this happens.  I sign in after not writing anything for a bit, and... there are 75 hits on one random day; I can see exactly which posts were read, how many times, etc. 

Each time, I wonder who it was, and what compelled them to keep reading, and each time... I never know the answer, obvs.

Hope they liked it, at least. 

It's a brand new year, and I've a herd of deer walking down my unplowed street, and a flock of cardinals duking it out at my bird feeders, which have seen NO action, for the last week.

hope they like it, at least.

Today was supposed to be my family's annual christmas gathering.    Seemed like, as we got closer this year, the dithering and dire weather predictions and such started a bit earlier than normal.

Almost like something, something huge, has caused the non-delusional among us, to exercise more caution than we used to do.

maybe.   

The winter weather threat that cancelled this year... a bit of a popcorn fart.  Lots of build up... and then all fizzle and no sizzle.   

the three or so inches of snow on the ground are pretty, if not particularly unsafe.   it's not quite a picture postcard, but....

Hope everyone likes it, at least.

Anyhow, due to predicted weather, and what ended up being a need for some to quarantine.....family christmas was 15 minutes long, two days ago.  

My sis dropped stuff off and picked stuff up, and later in the day, I stopped by my mom's for 60 seconds to pick up the stuff that was left, there, by others.

And when I called her first to make sure it was ok to come by, I was told "As long as you're NOT planning to stay and talk."      alrighty, then.

Not very festive, but everyone should end up with the correct presents, eventually..

Hope they like them, at least.

Today is last day of my paid christmas break.    I mean, of course I signed in and had to do a bit of work most days, compared to 90% of other salaried folk, cuz... ships and trains don't stop, just because you're on shut down....

But it was nice, and I've never lost sight of the fact that it's a sweet gift I get from my employer, every year.

Even if I did virtually nothing outside of chores and moving some stuff from the country house, all week.     

"Idle" is not my thing.   But "I don't know what to do with myself" IS my thing.

You can imagine how well this has gone at times, lo' these 54 years.

If nothing else, it means that when my wife tells me to "not worry about the house" because she'll take care of it when she gets home from work......   I will OF COURSE worry about the damn house.

At least a little.

Birthday was on the fly this year, which is fine. 

Nice card and fresh coffee waiting for me when I woke up, presents from family already opened due to the 15-minute family christmas; a couple presents to unwrap at some spur of moment time later in day when my wife got home; celebratory texts and calls at random moments throughout the morning.....   good enough.   

In part because it de-emphasized the fact that it was my birthday.   

I realized, awhile ago, I don't actually like birthdays.  Mine.  

Other people's are fine, and I hope they like them, at least. 

I don't care that I'm getting older; I stopped worrying that I wasn't "far enough along" in my life, decades ago; and I'm not of a weird religion (redundant?) that doesn't acknowledge them.

It's just that once I stopped expecting the actual to somehow meet my expectations, when I couldn't even clearly state my expectations.... life got easier 

Growing up, it was always shoe-horned in around Work and travel schedules.  So be it, it was all I knew, so....  And There were years when I'd hear about how tight money was for christmas, knowing of course my birthday was five days after.....     

I am not bitching, as a middle-aged-grown-ass-man.  One has no business bitching, really, after you've decades to sort it out for yourself.   

At whom does one bitch, at this point?     

(Man stands in yard, shaking fist at clouds.   Not a good look.)

I know the best that could be done, was done, and I appreciate it for what it was. 

But now, NOT trying to force it to be more: NOT being told " don't wash that dish, it's your birthday!" for example, while my birthday's absolutely NOT an all-day thing in any other way....   NICE.

   

And a casual dinner / beers with friends to end it..,. was perfect.  

 I hope I liked it, at least.

I checked just now, and... I did.

 

 

   

Tasty bathroom water and old habits. You know you're already intrigued.

 

Alright. 

So - a few weeks back, we put a water bowl in the bedroom.

Why?

So the damn dog wouldn't whine to go out at 3a, only to run to the bathroom, drink from the toilet, belch contentedly, and run back into the bedroom and onto the bed.

hypothetically speaking, of course.

Anyhow, the small bowl of water in the bedroom is now the preferred source of hydration for both the idiot dog, and the psycho kitty.   

I guess the water that comes out of the bathroom tap is just tastier than what comes from the kitchen.

today, twice now, she's gone to town on her food, stopping to walk across the house to get water.

Why, yes.  Yes there IS a full bowl of water right next to her food bowl.

it's been full for a long time now....

At least she only thinks I'm going to abuse her, about 19% of the time, now.     almost four months in, I'm guessing this is where it will stay.

Until unless I start abusing her...

The psycho kitty?  she'll sit in front of it for extended periods, just to remind the dog who's boss.

Tonite, just a few moments ago, I saw my chance.

My kid was in the shower, and the dog was outside.... 

I filled the bowl with kitchen water.

 " Today we're at world famous blah blah blah in New Orleans, and we've switched   their normal coffee with folgers instant crystals.   let's see what happens, with hidden camera...."

I didn't know it, as a child when this ad ran.   But as an adult, I can, with confidence, call bullshit.   Unless, perhaps, this world famous eatery in New Orleans, served shitty coffee to begin with.   

Like... one of those terrible coffee vending machines in the kitchen, with a pile of quarters, only instead of quarters, it takes tiny pieces of the souls of those who ingest it.......

- level shitty.  

Fuck.  Dog just barked, and the water bowl sailed over the gate into the hallway.

Oh, c'mon.  Dog's a moron, remember?   A sweet, reasonably well behaved one, but.... 

So, there's a story.  happened a few weeks ago, whilst fall was still beautifully fall-y.

It's about growing up, realizing your perspective has changed, and a weird dude by the side of the road.

wanna?

The woman I married, lived on the street a couple back from my own.

but 12 miles further west.    We call it the country estate.   And then laugh.

I was blessed with this drive, especially in spring and fall. you hit the county line and it's nothing but dirt roads and trees.   

In the winter... you use the highway a mile further south. I mean, no reason to be an idiot....

I was contemplating this on a particularly fall-y evening drive back to the city place,  and how right it felt that this splendor would be our guide, on endless trips back and forth, when I saw him.

Dude, standing behind his pick up truck, on the opposite side of the road.  

Road's narrow and... barely a road in places, so you go slow...

He was getting out his... guitar.    And as I drove on, I saw him the rear view, strumming and singing to... the creek that was there, perhaps.   or maybe just accompanying it's music.

"Wanke..." I started.    But I stopped.

See, old stuff, old...ways, can still come on automatically.  

Always without thought. 

duh. 

"automatic".  

.My younger, angrier, unhappier self, would have found it necessary to judge the  wanker guy.  And I would have had help, or at least a cheering section, more oft than not.

Old habits.   Of no value.   

There I was, dodging potholes, realizing he was not, indeed, a wanker.   

(as far as I knew, at least)

He was just a guy who fed his soul

sitting on his tailgate and playing the guitar

next to a stream.

as the sun slowly set.    

Who unknowingly reminded me that I'm no longer young, angry, nor unhappy like I was, in my youth, and wasn't it all exhausting, for no good reason?

And am no one to judge another's eccentricities.

So there you go.  

Now off you pop to bed.