Monday, January 31, 2005

Dreaming is different than sleep walking

We were standing as a family in a certain area of our 82 acres in Vermont talking about what we would like to do with all this undeveloped land and my dad points to a outgrowth and says he would like to build a little shack there for a place of solitude. Well, even Vermont has building requirements and where my dad pointed to would be too close to the neighbors land and I said as much. He looked at me, down to my soul, and said “I can dream can’t I?”

It turns out that our land was surveyed incorrectly and the new property line would allow for my dad’s dream.

Maybe, I waste some of my time and effort on things that may not happen and when someone points this out to me I think “I can dream can’t I?”

You ask “Why?” I ask “Why not?”

Thump...

Why does the dropping of the second shoe get all the attention? There would be no second shoe without the first.


“Are you alright?” ask that of me and it depends on who you are what kind of answer you get.

If you’re just someone I know – “things are fantastic”

If you’re an acquaintance – “things are okay”

If you’re a friend – I will think a brief moment then say “Yeah” and then turn my focus to you, look you in the eye and add “and you?”

Someone I know died of a heart attach shoveling snow. This someone was respected and famous, I’m not certain how wide the fame reached.

A friend of a friend, that’s how we met, that’s how I know most of the respected and famous and to some extent that’s how they know me. I prefer it this way, I like as less direct contact as possible, I like the buffer zone, I like phone calls channeled through friends.

This friend of friend needed something fixed or installed or just looked at to make an informed decision on what to do next, I forget what it was that was actually needed. I remember entering his house to a private space, a space that I imagine a lot of writers have, a space not for public consumption. The nature of the space was why I was there, it wasn’t particularly because of my skills but because I could be trusted, he didn’t want just anyone in there.

I was afforded trust because our mutual friend was trusted, I respected him for that.

Sunday, January 30, 2005

Loser

I’ve been called worse.

I actually don’t mind being called a loser because at least it was noticed that I was in the game.



There’s this activist that works the area where I’m employed, his cause is to save the whales. He seems to be a most unpleasant man, he’s rude and he usually reeks of body odor.

I imagine that he is most likely unpleasant because it hard to get people concerned about the plight of whales when there are a bunch of other causes out there that could seem more important. Most people don’t even give him notice when he starts his pitch.

It’s also hard to get people to think about other things when it is going to cost them something of themselves, whether it is time, money or effort.

The Whaleman is pretty consistent and he seems determined, I have thought, in the past, that he could be making better use of his time, after all people die from hunger everyday and hunger has to be one of the easiest things to fix.

I’ve in effect called him a loser and not because of his manner or his methods but because of his cause but at least he is in the game.

Hunger still exists
Whales are still threatened
Poor kids still need clothes
The homeless still need homes
Preventable wars still exists
Local area wildflowers still can use preservation

I’m a loser by my own judgment of the Whaleman, I’m a loser by the judgment of some unnamed commenter but at least a loser had a chance to win.

A loser was at least brave enough to try.

safe ain't fun (mostly)

So, I hold my niece part way out the kitchen window so she can touch an icicle and she gets all squirmy and says it’s not safe and she was touching her head.

I think “No shit it ain’t safe” but I had just done something more unsafe myself to get a photo of an icicle but she wasn’t talking about being hung out the window she was talking about the icicle.

Her grandmother told her icicles are dangerous. The danger comes from them falling on your head but this wasn’t explained too well to the two year old.

So, I reach out the window and snap off the frozen water and try to hand it to her but she still wouldn’t take it.

So, I said “It’s safe you can eat it if you want” and I was just about to demonstrate but I knew where that water came from so I just dropped it out the window.

...

I have more mouse traps to set at the second office.

...

I bought a book about birds because I don’t know nothing about birds. I saw a Downey Woodpecker and some sort of hawk today as well as those birds I took pictures of, I know it was a Downey Woodpecker because my $36.95 book told me so.

One thing I noticed was that the birds come by between sunrise and 10:00am and then they’re gone. The squirrels show up at about 8:30am, stay around until about 11:00am disappear and come back for a couple hours at 2:30pm.

...

I bought another book I probably won’t read “The Gypsy Man.” It was on sale.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

I talk like this

Sometimes people cheat themselves

I don’t buy candy for the wrapper

This ain’t my first road-dee-oh

You gotta do what you gotta do but you don’t have to do it here

That’s cheesy. You want slick.

He thought you were being an asshole but you were just being a goofball

tiger tom dixon's blues

Tiger Tom Dixon had a gift from God
He could hit you quick, he could hit you hard
In a world where a man’s hands are put to the test
Tiger Tom Dixon’s hands were the best

Men came from Boston, from Ohio
Corners of counties that you’ll never know
From barrooms and pool halls with nothing to show
Except for the fists that they did throw at Tiger Tom Dixon
Tiger Tom Dixon

He’d step into the ring, gloves tied on tight
After humbling a man Tom would tie one on in spite
Kick back into a whiskey like it was an easy chair
Drink to anything that the devil may care

Now Tom held his future in his right fist
But there was no good time Tom Dixon could resist
No neon in New England he hadn’t passed out under
No white lightning that hadn’t felt his thunder

Men came from Boston, from Ohio
Corners of counties that you’ll never know
From barrooms and barstools with nothing to show
Except for the fists that they did throw at Tiger Tom Dixon
Tiger Tom Dixon

Tougher than leather and quick as a cat
Till a young man one day is no longer that
And dreams of those around him sink to the quick
When he slows just enough for them to figure the trick

Come a day in December the steely winds did blow
Into the ring a man Tom Dixon didn’t know
It was himself without the bottle, and the dream held fast
He took Tom’s dream with him and he never looked back

Tom rolled around that bottle for a couple of years
Till he was put in the ground by his own fears
Now all that is left is the story I have told
And the dream that still waits to unfold for Tiger Tom Dixon
Tiger Tom Dixon

Men came from Boston, from Ohio
Corners of counties that you’ll never know
From barrooms and barstools with nothing to show
Except for the fists that they did throw at Tiger Tom Dixon
Tiger Tom Dixon
Tiger Tom Dixon
Tiger Tom Dixon

-Rod Picott sung by Slaid Cleaves

Boston Born, Boston Died

Paul Revere was first and foremost a silversmith just an ordinary guy making a living.

He was also a currier which is probably why he had his midnight ride, he did what he knew.

His fame came after the fact because some dude wrote a poem. Longfellow wrote a poem because that is what he knew.

Revere died at the age of 84, retired




His stone sits in the back of the graveyard, quiet away from the noise of Tremont Street and not too big, not so different than the others.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

This historical moment

I often wonder when that point came, the point where someone decided that change was important enough to make it happen.

I often wonder how grand or how seemingly uneventful that moment was, the moment where life was risked or just an opinion voiced.

I often wonder when was it, that the time became ‘now’ was it known that a specific action would produce a certain reaction, was it a conscience decision or just a product of circumstance?

I often wonder did some historical moment come to be because somebody somewhere witnessed someone else’s effort for change which seemed, at the moment, to be in vain.

I often wonder why should I try to make a difference but then I wonder why not.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Recipes that I keep in my head

Honey mustard dressing
3 parts Dijon mustard
2 parts Honey
1 part Red Wine Vinegar

Mix all the ingredients together and you’re done.

I use this on salads and on things like homemade beer batter chicken fingers.


Beer Batter (for deep frying)
1 part Beer
1 part Flour

Mix ingredients and let stand, covered, for at least four hours. It should have a consistency of a gooey shaggy mass that will make you think twice about putting it in your mouth no matter how fried.

I use this on onion rings (you may want to freeze the onion rings before you batter and deep fry them – they kinda disappear if you don’t) and on chicken fingers. This would be grand on other vegetables too like broccoli, if you like that sorta thing.


Yeah, this is what this space has come to. Next week I'll tell you how to get a water ring out of the finish of your favorite antique using pumice and baby oil.

...

search for this sexy guy undressed my humble blog is listed


...

with all the snow I had to park 4 tenths of a mile away

...

I got permission from someone submitting something to me that I could change the wording if I wished too, like anything that passes over my desk I don't get to change. If I touch it, I can change it, dems da rulz, look it up if you must.

what was up for one is sometimes down for another

building no longer standing

two guys standing

sign that says no standing


I’ve been around construction

I’ve been around destruction

Construction usually happens piece by piece

Destruction usually happens a whole lot quicker

With construction you sometimes forget all that’s involved, how much there truly is

With destruction you sometimes have the pile of rubble to remind you how much there truly was

Oh, yeah

my archives appear to be fixed, which ain't so grand in itself but now I can link to a specific post from old.

I start with stone but end with air

I’m having trouble closing thoughts. I have a lot of words built on other words taking up a lot of space but there is no substance. The point of the thoughts escape me. I start with stone but end with air.

I’m tempted to just post the open ended thoughts.

I met that writer in his home once, the home whose sidewalk he was most likely shoveling when he had the fatal heart attack.

Monday, January 24, 2005

that makes me a bird feeder

I did not have to report to work today because to the state of emergency, the powers that be want folks of the roadways so they can clear them.

I fixed the squirrel proof bird feeder and purchased and installed another.

...

Sometime when it snows like this, I think everyone has it the same until a friend on the West coast lets me know it's eighty degrees and that they probably never heard a snowthrower throwing snow at nine AM on a Sunday morning with six more hours of falling snow on the way.

But I try not to feel too bad for them.

...

My city is still going to be screwed tomorrow.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

snow what?!

20 plus inches of snow.

I may or may not be required to report to work tomorrow, I will be phoned if I have to go in.

I no longer wonder if spending close to $800 on a snow thrower was a good idea or not. It was, it's an 8HP deal 24" wide it was choking on some of the height of that snow but managed to handle it.

I did both of the neighbors' sidewalks and I always feel bad stopping at the next neighbor over but I believe both of those guys have good size throwers, they should be able to manage and I gotta stop somewhere.

Saturday, January 22, 2005

I try to wait and then see

Sometimes beauty fades even when it doesn't


but it's the same with ugliness

Friday, January 21, 2005

How to screw up doing nothing

Yesterday morning I sat at my desk and reminded myself that it was “Not a Damn Dime Day” as I opened the paper to where I left on reading it when I realized that the paper, even though discounted to half price, cost money but I told myself well it’s only a quarter as I reached for my medium size Dunkin Donuts coffee.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Down the street

If I lived down the street from Angelina, I’m certain she would have had us rob a bank just for fun and somehow not get arrested for doing it by now.

If I lived down the street from Radiohumper, I’m certain she would have used my 32’ ladder more than I by now.

If I lived down the street from TRUE, I’m certain I would have had to run from the police for tagging or posting ‘illegal’ signs or something by now.

If I lived down the street from xtx, I’m certain she would have watched my porno collection more than I and if I didn’t have a collection she would have gotten me one by now. (mainly because I don't give porno the attention it deserves)

If I lived down the street from Hun, I’m certain I would have learned something about music or HTML by now.

If I lived down the street from Anti, I’m certain my cordless power drill would have been returned in fine working order but with some unknown sticky substance on it and I would ask about the stickiness and he truly wouldn’t know about how it got there but he would offer to have one of the sign walkers clean it but I would say “Naw, I’ll do it. I was just curious” by now.

If I lived down the street from Regina, I’m certain I would have seen her perform live by now.

If I lived down the street from Lisa, I’m certain we would have swapped a recipe by now.

If I lived down the street from Jamie, I’m certain we would have been in a some coffee house not really talking to each other but making certain each other is hearing the story the crazy blond at the next table is telling too loudly to be ignored and Jamie would say “I kind of know her” by now.

If I lived down the street from Downwindofabum, I’m certain either one of us would have told the other some obscure story and then the other one would have said “No shit, me too” by now.

If I lived down the street from Meg, I’m certain she would have asked “Can you get any lamer?” while shaking her head at me by now.

If I lived down the street from unitedbingdom, I’m certain her friends would have asked her “What’s up with that dude?” and she would say “Beats me, he’s just some crazy neighbor from down the street” (which I would find funny) by now.

If I lived down the street from Raymi, I’m certain I would have seen her partially undressed because she thought there was a tick on her back and she wanted me to check and it would have probably happened on the bus in front of her boyfriend and thirty other people. There would be no tick but she would tell me everything I never truly wanted to know about ticks but then later I would tell others my new found knowledge about ticks, she would catch me and say “I told him that” by now.

sometimes, I'm pleasant (actual email)

I don’t mean to be a bother you but Steve thought that I would have better success than he requesting that the department order some writable CD’s. I think the ones that come in their own jewel case would fit the department’s needs the best.

If you could assist the department in this endeavor I’m certain your efforts would be greatly appreciated.

Thank You,
Tim

Cut it

there is this sandwich shop that sells half of a submarine sandwich (hoagie, hero), a tiny bag of chips and a 16oz soda for $5.25, which I think is a good deal. The bread is baked right there and sometimes you can even get it warm it's so fresh, anyway regardless of the size or shape of a sandwich, with very few exceptions, I like it to be cut in half. So, I asked could you cut that? and the dude looks over to Leo and says "See, you're making trouble" and I say "What? I always like them cut." Leo then explains to me that he and this one other guy out of the six or seven that makes sandwiches are the only one that cut without being asked.

Sandwiches need to be cut - always and any sandwich guy worth his salt knows this.

So, thank you Leo and your other friend too.

I'm about to eat my nuts

“Hey Bob what’s up?”

“Nuthen but I’m about to eat my nuts”

Bob had in his hand a can of peanuts which aren’t actually nuts, they’re legumes

I hear little conversations like this all day long.



I know I sarcastically said that I love the bus but I actually don’t mind public transportation. I actually use the bus infrequently only under special situation do I ever have need for the bus, I usually make do with the subway.

I’m being publicly transported only about 30 minutes each way, each business day, I rarely get a seat because I live relatively close to where I work, downtown, the only thing I can comfortably read is the paper. I’ve tried reading books and I don’t like it.

The thing about public transportation, for me anyway, is that I’m limited in what I can do so I get some quiet time and it conveniently comes at the beginning and the end of each working day.

Do I love the bus? No, but I like what it affords me.

Do I think you care? I would worry about you if you truly did but downwindofabum.blogspot.com got me thinking about it.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

more public trans

Trolley



Subway




Trolleys are known, in the business, as light rail.

"Baby rides the train" is what I want to say for some reason.

keep it moving

Shit shooting, I give it about five minutes and then move on.

...

I wish I had something to contribute.

Can I tell you something? Are you listening?

So, the meeting runs late, way late, I get to the second job at 11:30PM and assess the damage. Not much, most of the changes are minor and for checks there are just two I have to write. So, probably you know the deal by now, I’m going goof off until I can’t possibly get the stuff done until 2:00AM, then go home and try to sleep for four hours before I have to get up again for the first job.

I had three meetings today, communication is a lost art or maybe it’s listening that is the lost art.

My money is on the listening.

So, one my way to the second job I realize I haven’t eating anything all day, well except for coffee which I hear may or may not be a food, anyway there are two choices stop by the 7-11 or the Chinese Restaurant, every place else is closed. I would really like Chinese but I don’t want to wait the seven minutes after the order so I go with 7-11. I got a small bag of Smartfood Popcorn and a small bag of Salsa Doritos and a bottle of Arizona Ginseng Ice Tea.

I should keep a notepad by the bed tonight so I won’t forget the screwed up dreams I’m bound to have.

In other news, I’ve given up on thinking.

It was too much of a liability.

In other news still, I have photos on the trolley and the subway to go with the bus but you won't get them until later. Somehow a lady's ass is prominent in the subway photo but I was being covert so it's not like I was really looking at what was in the shot.

If you must know I was being covert because what type of spaz just takes random photos while riding public transportation?

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Public trans

I love the bus. Love love love it.

I tell myself to "Just shut up" frequently but I never do

Posts like that usually make me quiet for awhile, I sort of feel empty afterwards and not like an unburdening of the soul, more like my value system, the one I actually live by as opposed to the one I wish to live by, has had a successful clearance sale, nothing left but dust and shadows.

I could line up folks that know me and I could have them sing my virtues because to those I know I can be genuinely giving but that just brings me even at best.

“And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others?”

I wish I could say I didn’t wish to subscribe to that but somehow a version of that question is commonly posed to me. And I'm the one asking the question.

Monday, January 17, 2005

Same, same

I double parked and got out.

Twenty minutes prior I was trying to calculate the price of a pizza with steak, pepper and onion as the toppings. The problem was that the steak counts as two toppings and the peppers count as one and the onions count as one, so that’s the price of four topping total and my take out menu only prices to three.

Sixty minutes prior to that I was applying a wax finish to a chunk of wood basically just because I could.

I usually pick up the pizza myself because I don’t like dealing with delivery guys, it’s one of my odd quirks. There were a couple of people standing by the door, it was snowing so my only thought was on a route of avoidance. The two consisted of a younger guy looking like he was waiting for a friend to finish in the store and the other was an older woman, cleanly but poorly dressed, with a cigarette. As I passed them both the lady asked if I could spare some change on my way out, my answer was expressed with a shake of my head even before she finished her question.

I work downtown, I pass beggars frequently, I have an unwritten rule - no money to smokers. I don’t have a problem with people who chose to smoke I just think if you need to ask for money you shouldn’t be buying cigarettes.

Waiting at the counter for my order to be brought out from the back I heard this thought: it’s sometimes easier to bum a smoke than it is to get money.

I was in line waiting because the deal was, if I would fly someone else would buy. It was a decent deal and what better way to watch the local football team, on my big screen tv, win a playoff game

I passed by the older lady on the way out in silence and put the pizza in my still double parked truck. I returned to the door way. I was eating for free and my conscience got the better of me.

I stood at a distance where she would just be able to reach the five I was offering. I made a deal with myself inside that if I had a five dollar bill in my pocket, she would get it. The deal was made because I couldn’t think of a reason for this woman to be standing basically in the snow asking for money unless there was a real need and by now I didn’t even care if she was going to buy smokes with the money because smoking an addiction and I judge too much.

I folded the currency tight to give me some get away time, it would take her a moment to unfold what I had folded, she was, however, quicker than I thought.

“No. Come here” I heard.

“I’m not looking for a friend, I’m just easing some guilt” is what was said in my head as I offer a “No, that’s all right. Good luck.” But she persisted, so I approached hoping that I could just escape with hearing what a good man I was, but it wasn’t that easy. She said “Give me a big hug” she must have seen my heart sink because I’m not that good of an actor and because my heart sank. There I was trying to demonstrate that I care about my fellow man, in the most convenient way possible to me, and I am asked to do something that maybe that’s more important to her than giving her the money I most certainly wasn’t going to miss.

Then that voice, I often hear, chimed in again, the voice I had heard just moments ago waiting in line, “If you wait any longer why don’t you just spit on her and get it over with.” That damn voice is brutal sometimes but in the end it’s never wrong.

So, I more than less let her hug me and as each quarter second passed, I wondered if I just gave myself head lice. I don’t know how long I stood there getting a hug but it seemed like forever so I said “Have a good night” as I stepped away to break the embrace.

I called “Cut!” to this scene, this acting job of mine that I actually care about others more than I care about myself.

Maybe, I am Bush.


and even my good is bad which is most ugly

Sunday, January 16, 2005

yard waste



If I had changed the order of the cuts and used clamps while I glued this, those cuts lines would have been nearly invisible.

But hey, I was just goofing about with a log from the yard.

Saturday, January 15, 2005

Friday, January 14, 2005

I get this all the time

"Tim, can you do me a favor in about ten minutes?"

"Sure"

"I need to pick-up a cake and a Box o' Joe"

"Okay but am I going to get wet?" (it's raining)

"Probably, but maybe we can get wet together"

Egads man just look at the lizard.



So boss dude holds up the key on the keychain I brought in and asks “Which car is this to?”

“It’s stamped right on it” I say.

“What?”

“The car it’s to, it’s stamped right on the lizard. You gotta look at the lizard”.

He looks at the lizard and reads the C and the 4 I had stamped into it and says “Oh. Is that one of the good ones?”

“Sheesh, I put a lot of time and effort into that and you don’t even respect it enough to look at. No, it’s one of the bad ones”.

“I’m sorry. It’s very nice”.

Damn, straight it’s nice.

in the key of g

I believe in love and danger
I believe that truth is stranger

I just have to say ryhmes
not always just sometimes

Thursday, January 13, 2005

If justice is unjust then it's not justice

“I heard about you little escapade the other night. So, where was it.”

It’s the one that is really scared of mice. She’s really scared of mice because while in her college dorm she would have these dreams that mice were crawling all over her only one night she found out it wasn’t a dream. Her dorm was adjacent to the kitchen and her bed was in the way of wherever from the mice where coming.

“I rather not say.”

“I would rather that you did.”

“How would it make things better?”

“I don’t know but please tell me.”

“It was in one of the gift baskets.”

I didn’t recognize the look I was getting from her. It was sort of a bewildered look.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Yes. I do.”

Moments later I find out that a member of the staff has been sneaking items from the basket in question and bragging about it a bit. Sometimes justice just happens.

Maybe I will get a snake to help with the mouse problem because really what kind of weirdo doesn’t like snakes?

Side note: snakes aren’t slimy, they’re scaly but even that is probably not what you think it is.

Do or Don't

“So, what do you do?”

He looked down and away because he doesn’t like taking about it but he couldn’t think of a reason not to answer the question.

“Part-time superhero” he said

“Oh, do you like what you do?”

He was still looking down, so he glanced upward, to get a glimpse of her eyes. Well, actually just one eye, usually that’s all it takes. It was an honest question with a touch of concern which is information you can only get from the eyes, the left or the right, usually either one of them will do. He chose the right, glanced back down and thought for a moment.

“Yeah, I guess I do... but sometimes I don’t like doing it.”

I would rather know than not, mostly

So, there is this free paper that gets passed out and I guess some of the executives said some things that were racial, so some folks call for an immediate boycott of the paper.

Which brought up another paper that people boycotted years ago for reasons called racism, I personally don’t hold the paper totally responsible because the police were, in fact, giving wrong information. I actually buy this paper every weekday. I buy this paper and another co-worker buys the other major paper and we share them with the office.

Racism is foolish, I don’t understand it, it’s also dangerous but here’s the deal with the newspaper, I want to hear the other side of the story even if it’s false because I think it’s easier to talk about things if I know what the other side is saying, otherwise I’m just talking and not communicating.

Sweet bejesus

I thought my grammar was off on a certain something because after I post stuff I always go over it in my mind so I call up the post in blogger because I was there anyway and I noticed something different and I actually said to myself "Sweet, bejesus I've been empowered"

Sometimes, I don't know either.

“Why did you even post this? It makes no sense to me.”

That question has never been asked of me but I’ve seen it in comments.

I just am always surprised that some people think that they will understand everything that someone writes in a personal log.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

I do smile just not on camera (yeah, I heard that somewhere else, too)

so, I've said somewhere that I cannot smile on command but there are some things I can think of that will make me smile or even laugh. Usually the things change over time because I just get used to them but I'll tell you what working today for me:

notimetosayit with her plans for elf feet

trueboy with her trail of t's

paxgitmo with her invites

bringthebeef with the invited

Tim’s little secret for filing success.

Whenever I’m filing stuff away into hanging folders, I’ll always give a little lift to the hanging folder just to make certain when I drop the manila file into it, it will actual be in the one folder I want and not in between the folder I want and the folder in front or in back of it.



I always assume that the faint sound of that music mix I hear is coming from your head phones.

Why this is funny


Sometimes, i have to draw stuff for work.(her caption)


I find this funny because I picture some bossman type figure (could be a woman) sitting xtx down, handing her a 3x3 post-it note and a blue medium point Papermate stick pen and saying "Draw" and she's all like "Draw what?" and she told "Just Draw" so she shrugs her shoulders and says "Alright" because she's still getting paid, but now she's getting paid to draw and she draws a pair of shoes and stocking that would best belong on some Dutch elf but secretly she would like a pair for herself.

Baby, it's the little things.

I realize there are times I must seem inconsistent. There are times I can wait out almost anything and other times I can’t take two seconds of a thing. Case in point, that Chai Tea photo, it started to bother me last night, and it really bothered me that it was the lead off photo but I told myself relax it’s just a photo, did you not indeed drink the Vanilla Chai tea? But then this morning I couldn’t stand it again so I grabbed the first photo that didn’t offend me and put that up.

Some things I just don’t let go of and usually they are the little bullshit things. There is a formula to rattling my cage and it’s not like getting in my face or threatening me with harm or even stealing my stuff. All it takes is a series of small things, small stupid things and all my patience, that I’m known for in the flesh and blood, is gone.

The 'Enter' key is the Carriage Return

So, most likely the deal with the mouse is that I was angry with it for not killing himself like he was supposed to. I met him more than half way, I left the mouse traps in travel routes and even baited them with yummy peanut butter and peanut butter is like crack to mice, but this mouse chose something differnet.

In the world I'm often told to met folks half way, just do your part and others will do theirs but you know what, sometimes half way isn't enough because other folks don't want to carry their load.

I've come to, sort of, expect that from certain others so I don't need some mouse doing it as well.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Please just use the mouse traps

So, it's 10PM eastern and I'm helping the owner with her email and in the office kitchen I hear a rustling.

I know what it is, it’s a mouse in one of the left over Christmas Baskets that hasn’t yet been delivered. I had seen two mice and this very same basket on Sunday night.

The little fella didn’t care for the mouse trap.

I left the owner’s office and entered the kitchen and gave the offending basket a shake and out comes a mouse who is now between the outer plastic wrapping and the basket.

So, I think

And think some more

The thinking is how to end a life

The mouse isn’t digging his new popularity and is getting antsy, so I have to stop the thinking and get to doing. I can’t let him go outside because he’ll just come right back in, so I picked up a stapler and gave the small brown rodent a stern thump on the head. I watched him slump to the bottom of the plastic wrapping motionless at first and then he starts twitching, so I cut him out of the plastic, grab his tail and bring him to the closest toilet.

And now there is this foolish remorse for this mouse who was just doing what mice do

I have a confession to make

Do you know down in that post where I bragged that I always had peanut butter?

Well... you see... ummm...

I was looking through my pantry and...

ummm

I looked on all the counter space and even in the refrigerator and...


I'm just going to come right out and say it.


I had no peanut butter.

I'm sorry I lied and I'm sorry I spoke so boldly when I shouldn't have but I think I have learned my lesson.




oh and the mouse traps are the never-bait type with that phoney piece of scented plastic that looks like cheese. I hate those.

And I think I like Jiff peanut butter better than Peter Pan (no offense to anyone who may or may not go by that name).

Yeah, I had a big spoonful after I baited the never-bait traps.
"Timmy, I have six mouse traps how do you bait them?"

The question was for my specific way of baiting a mouse trap.

"I use mostly peanut butter but they can lick the peanut butter right off that metal thing so I always use a bit of bread as well".

"Oh, I always use bacon".

There is no way in Hell I'm going to bait a mouse trap with meat but I try to be gentle so I say "Well, I usually don't have bacon on hand but I always have peanut butter and bread."

"Oh, okay. Do you want to do it then".

I hung my head because I think I was just played but it's better that I bait the traps than the owner's 78 year old aunt so I say "I'll do it".

So add that to the things I need to do tonight. I bet I forget the peanut butter and the bread.

Quote of the Day

Fame runs downhill, eventually.

Sheesh, give me a brake. It takes a moment to get into bulshit mode

“Hey. I need your help. I’m filling out this application for the private school Little g wants to go to and I need some bullshit.”

“You need bullshit so you come to me?”

“Yeaaaah! The question is: What would the student bring to *the private school’s* community?”

“She would bring an enthusiastic attitude towards learning.”

“That’s a good start but I need more”

“And a positive sense of citizenry.”

“Do I need to explain any of that?”

“No, they’re supposed to be the smart ones.”

What the heck is this thing doing?



on a different note, or rather an actual note that is about something different

written in my private penmanship
I guess I have this blogger addiction which is facilitated through my access to computers where ever I go. Well, at least the places I most frequent like home, job, job. So, I’m probably online more than the national average and when I lose focus I’ll run and check my email accounts and most likely hit a few blogs. The problem arises when I’ve already read everybody’s new stuff so I can’t get my fix, and when I can’t get my fix from others, I usually end up writing stuff myself and that never truly satisfies me.

I added an new shelf for other books and miscellany, such as a metal lizard keychain and a small elephant carved out of Ebony wood.

Sshhh...

Back in the day when I was in school, grades 1-12, sometimes there would come when the teacher would call on the class for answers. Me, being shy and reserve and not wanting to look like a know-it-all, would never answer the first time the question was asked but after a while the silence would bother me so I would speak up.

On to the next question, I would do the same only the pause between question and answer would be shorter. After a few questions, I would forego the pausing and just give the answer, then teacher would ask does anybody know besides Tim.

The moral of this story I have a hard time not answering a question when the room gets silent. I can do it but it’s difficult mainly because I just want to move things along…

but sometimes that’s not the point of the question.

Monday, January 10, 2005

Some record

A former worker had business with us today and before he left he said meet me at *the place* after, so I met him after and had a few and after that I dropped by the normal place and had one. While I was having the one the Jeb Bush look-a-like was there talking his normal variety of things, I exchanged looks with the barkeep, same old same old.

Jeb starts to tell me how he thinks it would be some record that would go down in a annals of history if someone could get there when they open and be there when they close. Well, I think my patience was used up with Jeb from the last time he was talking at me so, I said I think there are some records that aren’t worth having, he disagreed he thought it would be neat. I told him I thought it would be like holding the record for the smallest penis.

He just shrugged his shoulders. I was told the last time I saw him there he had gotten there at 11:30AM and didn't leave until 10:30PM. I wonder if he has that world's smallest penis plaque hanging in his living room with pride.


too much

I have way too much hope for a pessimist, it causes all sorts of problems.

It's like driving 35 miles an hour in second gear, there is a lot of whirling noises but I'm really not going anywhere fast

Sunday, January 09, 2005

Six to one, half dozen or another

I finally ran that other network cable and moved the old machine downstairs as well as got the owner's new laptop setup. I've have to get a security cable so this laptop doesn't walk off. I had to but the covers back on the old machine, I took them off a year and a half ago and never put them back on. That's the geek in me.

I actually have pictures if I get lame enough to post them. And there's the dork.

ducks in the dark

I miss my hat

It's easy to amuse me at times

Listening to these crack me up.

Yankee Doodle Dandy

Tom Dooley

definately not easy listening

More of just me talking to myself

I’m used to not winning because the fights I get into usually have the odds stacked against me.

Sometimes, I’ll take on something small, something to try and encourage me to carry on, something that might bolster my lifetime record of wins and losses but those wins ring hollow. A win that almost anybody could accomplish, in the end, seems like a waste of my time, I should have been fighting a bigger fight.

“I don’t see us winning this.”

“I know but if there is a chance, shouldn’t we try?”

I hate it when I have no argument but then it’s hard to argue against the truth, or at least what I believe to be the truth.

I hate it in the end when someone else’s parade goes by and I’m not too big of a man to say “I told you so.” On the better days, the reply I usually get is “But we were close.” And, usually there will be some other benefit stated, like we’ve found a couple more people who are willing to take a chance on something better.

Even on the worst days there is usually some benefit even if it’s just practice for some other thing, some other fight, some other day.

I don’t enjoy watching the other guy win but I know I would enjoy it less if he was unopposed.

This is just so I don’t forget.

Saturday, January 08, 2005

I got my hairs cut today.

...

The neice was by and was eating scrambled eggs with ketchup and she was asked "Do you like eggs from your head down to your legs?" because that was that stupid ad jingle and she says "No" so she was asked "How far down do you like them?" her answer was "To my belly"

which makes sense to me.

yeah, that'll do

Don't Rock My Boat


Huh, please don't you rock my boat
'Cause I don't want my boat to be rocking anyhow
Please don't you rock my boat, no
'Cause I don't want my boat to be rocking
I'm telling yo that ohh-ooh-ohh I like it like this
Can you miss
And you should know, ooh-ohh, when I like it like this
I'm a really it's, ooh yeah
You satis-satis-satisfy my soul, morning time, evening cold
satisfy my soul, yes I been a telling you
Bake me the sweetest cakes
I'm happy inside all the time
Oh can't you see, what you've done for me, yeah
You make me feel like
Oh can't you see, what you've dont for me, yeah
You make me feel like
When we bend a new corners
We feel like a sweepstakes winners, yeah
Whe-en we bend a new corners
We feel like sweepstake winners
And I say ohh-ooh-oh, I like it like this [yes I do]
And you should know ooh-oh, when I like it like this
I got it, just can't miss, ooh
Satis-satisfy my soul darling, make me love you in the
morning time yeah
If ever I treated you bad, make it up to me one time
'Cause I'm a happy inside all the time
I want yo beside me, yeah, to be mine
One thing you got to do is when a we holding hands together,
you've got to know that we lo-love eachother, yeah
And if everytime you should walk away from me, now
You'll know I need your sympathy, yea-ah
Can you see
Do yoy believe me
Oh, darling, darling
I'm calling, calling
Satisfy my soul
Satisfy soul
Never, never...
Never give it up now
All in the same boat
Rocking on the same route
We got to get together
Loving each other
And can't you see, what I've got for you, yeah
I'm happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, and not even time be blue, now
Come a little closer
Satisfy my soul

- Bob Marley

People look at her then they look at me


Millionaire
(chorus)
Love is more precious than gold
It can't be bought, and it can't be sold
I've got love enough to spare
That makes me a millionaire

I've got a woman
with eyes that shine
Down deep
as a diamond mine
She is my treasure
So very rare
She's made me
a millionaire

When we ride around
this old town
in my beat up car
with the windows down
People look at her
then they look at me
say that man
is sure living in luxury

repeat chorus

Her kisses fall
from everywhere
like riches on
a millionaire
So when my pocket's are empty
and my cupboard is bare
I still feel
like a millionaire

repeat chorus

-Kevin Welch

Just give

Give a care
Give a listen
Give a look around
Give attention
Give an effort
Give a greeting
Give a moment

and you can change the world

the squeeze box

so, I have a limited amount of sheet music in the house which makes playing musically instuments a little difficult. The two songs I have that I know the tune to are Pop Goes the Weasle and Tom Dooley.

Pop Goes the Weasle doesn't have any words and there is a hole in my memory after the monkey chases that damn weasle (and I fear some day I'm going to be woken by this scene with what I find in the house normally) but Tom Dooley has the words.

Here they are:

Hang down your head Tom Dooley
Hang down your head and cry

Hang down your head Tom Dooley
Poor boy you're bound to die


which seems a little less festive than a weasle popping

note from the editor:
musically instruments what the heck is that?

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Handy

I sometimes make the argument that nothing was given to me which isn’t completely correct. I was given a few things.

So then I’ll say I wasn’t ever given much which may be true but there were a heck of a lot of things that were put within my reach.
I had a post going about how I sometimes choose to do things that I don’t like to do but then decided against posting it. I really couldn’t sum it up, couldn’t put a finish to it and it started to get long and I really had no desire to finish it.

Usually when this situation arises I’ll just delete the whole thing but I actually saved this one, it will probably be saved for quite some time and be forgotten.



Do I care today?

I don’t know. What’s the cause?

Gee, I don’t know. Is anybody watching?

I’ll have to check my calendar. I’ll get back to you.
"It's not a matter of whether you love her, it's a matter of whether you love her more than you love yourself"

The talking seemed to end after that

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Oooo... Training

In this workshop you will learn to distinguish assertive communication from communication that is aggressive, passive, and passive aggressive. Practice constructive techniques for
* Expressing your needs
* Disagreeing constructively
* Requesting a change of behavior from someone
* Giving constructive feedback
* Delivering your message more clearly and confidently

Learn to deal with conflict and criticism by
* Distinguishing helpful/unhelpful criticism
* Seeing mistakes as learning experiences
* Clarifying your critic’s message
* Responding to unfair criticism or put downs
You will share ideas and solutions with other participants, practice skills and receive supportive feedback.

I suppose yelling "Hey! Listen up" is not a constructive way to express my needs

I suppose yelling "You suck!" is not classified as disagreeing constructively

I suppose yelling "Cut the shit!" is not a proper way to request a change in behavior

I suppose yelling "Dumbass" is different than giving constructive feedback.

I think I have the "Delivering your message more clearly and confidently" thing down pat.

"I'm gonna hafta take a point"



I thought I had emailed that post to myself but once I got home I couldn’t find it, not at the address I mailed it to nor at the address I mailed it from, I then guessed that I did not email it after all. So, I rewrote it and during the rewrite the flavor changed.

I tend to rewrite a lot of things if I get the opportunity. I sometimes have a waiting period between when I’ll write something and when I’ll send it, a kind of cooling down period. Sometimes I’ll change my mind about sending/posting it at all which brings about a debate on whether I actually believe it at all.

If you believe it then speak it …but sometimes it’s best to wait your turn to speak.

Sometimes a whisper is heard louder than a shout.

Sometimes I don’t wait, I’ll just spit it.

You can tell where my words originate - my heart is bolder than my head and my head tries to be more diplomatic than my heart, sometimes they both click, work in concert, I get the best of both worlds which is nice because usually the two are at odds.

The owner was rearranging the office.

“Things should be a certain way” she said.

“I agree but some don’t make the effort” I agreed.

“Well, things are going to be done my way.”

“And they should be but it’s hard to get your way when you’re not here.” I offered

“He’s earned that” was heard from the peanut gallery after a laugh.

“But that problem seems to be fixed” I added.

“He takes a shot and then he softens it” the owner noticed.

I just smiled ‘cause that’s just me, that’s my style a stiff left jab followed by a right that just kisses.

Keeps your hands up and protect yourself at all times.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

If you weren’t as attractive as you are would I still find it sexy that when you clear your throat it sounds like a little growl?

I forgot the title

When Lee left a comment my New Year’s day post about the raccoons and signed it citi kid, it made me wonder where I picked up my attitude towards wild animals because except for one school year when I was nine, I have always lived in the city. And in that one school year, when I lived I in the suburbs, I didn’t come across any wild animals, except for garder snakes . My experiences with raccoons, opossums, skunks, bats and the more common mice, rats, squirrels and birds have all come while I was in the city.

The first time I witnessed a hawk up close, outside of captivity, was when one was eating a pigeon in the middle of one of Boston’s old cow path streets, called Creek Sq., 600 feet from City Hall.

I can’t remember when I learned what a smell of a skunk was like

…but then I don’t remember a lot of stuff

Sometimes I do

"I not arguing whether it's right of wrong. I just don't think it's 100% honorable."

"Do you know what Tim? You can shove your honor."


Don't worry sometimes I do.

Monday, January 03, 2005

think

Jamie left a comment on a photo which reminded me I hadn’t been around the lunch place for a while. I remedied that today. I did my best to save the barkeep from inane chatter from one of the regulars, I occupied the guy for about forty of the sixty minutes for which I was there. I was thanked for my effort.

I don’t think that guy really knows what he’s talking about. I think most of what he had to say were the words of someone else.

He wasn’t quick to defend any of the things he was saying.

Sunday, January 02, 2005

"You probably don't give a shit, but..."

I like the fact that your journal doesn't involve insightful and original takes on the state of the world. I like the pretty pictures.

I’m just a nobody that found your site while looking for the Official Rules for a Yankee Swap but I don’t think a true asshole would be bothered, that sometime in the world, it’s kittens vs. bunnies.

A true asshole wouldn’t give a damn.

January 16, 2004


...

That's the first email I ever sent to a stranger, the first I ever sent to a blogger.

The title of this post is what I put in the subject line of the email, she wrote back that she did give a shit.

I was reading her site for maybe a month, reading words that essencially bared her throat. I would often wonder why she would do such a thing, why would she lay herself bare.

...

i do

give a shit that is and send you about four hundred and forty four thank yous for what you wrote to me. cause it's dope and courageous to write notes to peeps you do not know.

what's a yankee swap? how great is it that you can find a person who doesn't know fuckall about a yankee swap by looking for the official rules for a yankee swap? i love this internet shit.

thank you, is what i mean to say. and thank you.

friday kicks ass so far on my end. hope the same goes for you.

January 16, 2004


...

That's the first reply from a blogger.

If her reply would have been something different I'm not certain I would still be sending the emails (or comments) that I sometimes send.

I didn't know it was "courageous to write notes to peeps you do not know" I just figured the email address was there for a reason.

I thought it was far more courageous to expose your jugular to all comers and do so with the confidence that come what may, you will survive. I still think it's far more courageous.

Two days after that reply this site appeared, although my 'courageousness' ends with the emails because I keep all my vital parts covered.

The point of this all - maybe nothing - maybe everything - maybe i love this internet shit, too - sometimes - even if it is for losers - or a person of three - or someone famous in a specific world - or someone who lets you listen to some secret frequency - or someone who paints an image with words and brush - or someone who sings from the heart with voice and a site - or maybe I'm just using old emails for a post.

...

So what's the big deal? It's just another new year, no more important than any other day that dawns, dawning on all those other first days of the rest of your life.

New day tomorrow, or at least that's the rumor.

I think I'll live it.

Saturday, January 01, 2005

It's illegal to keep a coon in the house without a permit

So, the new year started with a whiskey sour with double the garnish. Double the garnish because I was making them and if I had my way all cherries would be soaked in Jim Beam.

Once again have an unopened bottle of Champaign after 12:00AM on January first.

I spent most of the day assembling a wardrobe unit and rearranging my bedroom. For the wardrobe unit, the tools required were a Phillips head screwdriver, a hammer and a power drill – all of which were sitting somewhere in the room, already. I did have to go to the basement to get the 1/16 inch drill bit.

At 2:00AM the show was over, I went to bed but I wasn’t sleeping well, I thought it might be the new location of the bed but I really don’t know. At 3:45AM I hear a scratching noise. My bedroom is at the front of the house, off the front of the house there is an enclosed porch. I’ve heard the scratching before, always early in the morning so I usually would ignore it, I always thought the noise was coming from under the porch and for the most part I’m a pretty easy going guy so if some critter wants to mess about under the porch I really don’t care. Today I cared.

I grabbed the flashlight that I keep by the tv and went to the basement and looked to where I thought the sound was coming from, the joists run parallel to the foundation where I was looking and the first joist runs just about an inch from the top of the foundation which creates a mostly enclosed ledge. I look up and see the one inch gap filled with grey fur, grey fur that isn’t usually there, I was trying to think of what it could be, it was too big for a opossum and too much solid grey for a raccoon, then the thing moved.

It moved and looked right at me. I think “Happy fucking New Year*” but I still could not make out what it was when I saw something in the corner to the left move along the top of the foundation, right by the electrical panel, out in the open basement. That one was definitely a raccoon. I took a step back and hear something rustle about over my head in a portion of the basement ceiling that’s enclosed. I think – okay boys there’s not much I can do about you tonight but can you keep the noise down a bit, I’m trying to sleep.

Hopefully it’s up from this point.

*When I told the story to my mom I changed it to "Happy New Year, Fella"