Some people want the security of a firearm in their hands because it provides them with comfort should unwanted visitors show up.
I can’t dispute the effectiveness with which they can be applied in some situations but the rules of the blog dictate if I am going to defend the Ponderosa I prefer to use my hands.
My daughter says I have chubby fingers but others have referred to them in more descriptive and yet less generous terms.
Variations of paws and comments about how much cloth is required for gloves are common as are the occasional comparison to something a gorilla might find attached to their wrist.
Having had the occasion to measure mine against the occasional monkey and or ape I know better.
Against the chimp I do ok, but against the gorilla there is no question about who walks around with the bigger appendages.
I don’t think the guy at the door was able to decide whether the bulge on my side was a greater concern than how fast I could swing the bat at my side.
He certainly didn’t take any time to discern whether these meat paws could do more than feed my mouth but he probably should have.
‘Cuz if things had gone a different route we would have been intimate and not in the kind of way that makes me yawn and smile.
The net result is we didn’t find out what kind of dancer I still am or have to have any uncomfortable conversations about how my Louisville Slugger can still knock the hell out of…balls.
Shmatas & Stuff
Spent a few minutes going through boxes filled with knick knacks and old shmatas.
One of those boxes was filled with a page of obituaries that is about 20 years old or so. I took a quick look at the list of the dead and wondered if people still read the obituaries.
Wondered if I died tomorrow whether my name would end up on paper or just in digital form. If you mentioned it on Facebook you might get a few remarks about how shocking and or sad it is to see a younger person go, but that would probably be it.
Most people would just go about their business because the world doesn’t stop for any of us. It is a hard lesson for some, but that is how it is.
I remember how an ex once told me how she had a dream I died while I was out of state or country and how she didn’t know.
She told me over the phone how it was scary to think I could just die and she might not ever find out. I told her I planned on living to be a 130 and that there would be a disturbance in the force that would signify my being gone.
She said that was ridiculous and I said ridiculous suits me fine. Doesn’t change things, if I died she’d still do whatever it is she does with her life now.
The world doesn’t stop turning.
But in spite of the consistent motion it is clear to me that in some ways the world is getting smaller all the time.
I have seen Facebook connections between people that I know but who I know don’t know each other or at least I was certain they didn’t know each other.
Clearly their connection on Facebook proves they know each other…sort of…maybe.
I say that because I have some friend requests I haven’t approved from people who are friends of friends. I don’t know why I didn’t approve or delete them, I just didn’t.
Might be the same reason I didn’t contact them and ask if they meant to send me a friend request or if they were asked to try to become my friend to stalk me.
Most if not all were probably a mistake, but there are some big oafs and dumbasses out there. There are people who have reached out to me to have conversations about things I never expected them to know about.
Loose lips sink ships must not apply here.
Running With The Devil
iTunes has Best Of Van Halen 1 for $4.99 so I just picked it up. I had almost every song on a mix of cassette, vinyl, CD, MP3 and decided it is time for one single medium.
Just finished listening to Eddie play Eruption and am on to Running With The Devil, an old favorite. Mulling over whether to pick up the Stevie Nicks album.
Can’t decide so I pull out some Marvin Gaye, sing about Sexual Healing and move on to What’s Going On and think about how timeless and timely it is.
Spoke with an old friend and mentioned I had surgery last year and got yelled at for not sharing it before it happened.
It was minor surgery, just a hernia so I didn’t think of it as being something I needed to share with a lot of people.
But it got me thinking a bit about what I would do if I had something really serious going on.
If I had some sort of cancer would I want to tell people about it?
Can’t say for certain but there is a pretty good chance I’d keep that circle really small. Not everyone needs to know everything about us and sometimes it can be exhausting.
You’re either part of the inner circle or you are not.
How Do You Know?
He asks me to explain how I know certain things and I shrug my shoulders.
“Can’t tell you, I just know if I hear ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’ when I think of you then I know.
I have been played for a fool and messed with. Had my chain yanked by people who swore they would never do it and I kept going.
If I thought it was intentional or that they didn’t care I just moved on. Sometimes people think they hold the chain not realizing you can set the collar it is attached to aside at any time.
You have to be willing to put the effort in to figure it all out.”
He nodded his head and I walked away, promising I’d visit again soon.