Flummoxed By The Flim-Flam

I have developed a habit of saying “Hi Dad” every time I pass a particular picture knowing the man in the photo isn’t going to respond.

Sometimes when no one else is around I stare into the bright blue eyes and dare him to make like Gumby and step out of the picture and try to scare me.

“C’mon dad, 45 years ago I offered to fight you instead of being sent to my room” but the silence tells me the answer is the same so I shrug my shoulders and go back to what I am doing.

I am mostly bullet-proof, take away the dysfunctional digestive system and I power through most things because I am too busy not to do so.

Except for moments like now, when the twice, sometimes thrice a year cold finally manages to catch up with me and then for a few days I feel three guys with baseball bats have their way with me.

The good news is that this one caught me at the start of the weekend so in theory I’ll be mostly better for the start of the work week.

Got to pick up a rental car, write a letter that will burn the optic nerve and spine of the person who reads it and find a way to rope the moon, so I have to beat this cold into submission.

Can’t let myself be flummoxed by the flim-flam.

Who Can You Trust?

The second or third time I banged my head on various objects (doors, cabinets) I knew I must not be right and made plans to spend the weekend mostly resting.

Didn’t leave the house once, thought about it, got dressed and then said screw it.

Had words with a teenage boy who questioned things and reminded him your father is one of the most reliable people in your life. If you truly have me, you know I will go through hell covered in gasoline for you.

I’ll fight the dragons, the monster in the closet and the one under the bed all at the same time.

It is how I was trained and raised.

Reminded him that it can be lost and that others have seen me walk, but he is one of the very few who can’t shake me off.

“Eighteen is a rough time in some ways, your voice is about as deep as mine, you more or less look me in the eyes and can wear my clothes. But you can’t match my life experience, one day you will, but not yet. So if you really are smarter than me you’ll avoid making some of the mistakes I made.”

I don’t expect him to buy into everything I am saying or to accept it because I sure didn’t when I heard it a million years ago.

****

Had to change the WiFi password on the home network and found myself sneezing my way through a variety of curses aimed at the idiots who cause this situation.

I hate fixing unnecessary mistakes made by people who didn’t bother to think through their actions.

Maybe it is because I am adept at getting into trouble and don’t want any help with it.

Flipped on the final device to make sure that it had the new password and checked Netflix to see if the films loaded without buffering. Watched a trailer for The Notebook and smiled cuz the damn thing worked as it should.

Thought about the movie for a brief moment and wished I could punch a button and get some Matza Ball soup.

Not Exonerated

The blog needs attention. I have to do something about fixing the theme or installing a new one.

I have been saying I need to do so but haven’t any good excuses for why I haven’t. I am not exonerated by the excuses any more than Mueller’s report exonerated the grifter in the White House.

In spite of my best efforts to stay silent I had to respond to a neighbor who was crowing about the fake exoneration.

“You understand that a lack of exoneration suggests there was reason to believe something happened. It means there is suspicion of wrongdoing and that there wasn’t enough evidence to prove it. That is not They found OJ innocent too.”

“You just hate the president and you hope he fails.”

I shake my head and say I despise divisive liars who refuse to be accountable, who promise to hire the best people and surround themselves with far too many who are indicted and or incompetent.

“Mexico isn’t paying. There has been no change with North Korea and the man refuses to hold Russia accountable for meddling in our elections. That is indefensible and morally reprehensible. But I would be grateful to be given reason to be proven wrong and to discover the man who spends his days tearing down is building all of us up together.

I haven’t loved every president but I never believed we had one who only cared about some Americans.”

****

Back in the land of self-promotion  I am here to say this post keeps getting picked up and tweeted.

I am grateful and appreciative and wonder if I ought to make like the old days and focus on that particular message. Wonder if I ought to spend more time visiting and commenting on and with those that came by to visit.

Thing is, my head is in a funny place and I don’t know that I have the bandwidth and energy to do so. Don’t know if I can make it happen.

Got this funny feeling about things I think I know and stuff I don’t know at all that is pushing me. Ideas about what life will be like at 50 and if things I thought might be are going to or if they aren’t.

Woke up with this morning and was grateful that some things still happen and thought again about how every ten years I have a big birthday and am surprised that I don’t feel as old as I am.

Or maybe that is the one that hits next month and that one that preceded it a decade ago.

Maybe if I could figure 0ut how not to sneeze so hard my neck feels like it is trying to remove it from my head and torso I could figure it out.