Fart And Smelling

Six hundred miles in two days driving through farmland and cities can lead to funny experiences in which you end up talking out loud to yourself.

Some people love seeing the cows but I am not always among them as there is a stench that sometimes comes along with them.

Saw this skinny dude working alongside the road and wondered if he had gone noseblind or if he wandered around muttering about “farting and smelling.”

I don’t mind manual labor and hard work but I looked at that and hoped it paid well.

Been wrestling with a few thoughts lately and then this song popped into my head and I nodded along.

I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul
Where I’ll end up, well, I think only God really knows

You Can’t Help Yourself

Got this iTunes playlist flowing through my headphones while I play around with trying to decide if I want to share a couple of stories with you.

One probably can’t see the light of day or cellphone because there could be financial complications while the other one could have the same effect as the Ghostbusters crossing the streams.

Go ahead and ask me if I am willing to share either and I’ll say the latter is a possibility not because some friends say I am “fucking nuts” and as “unfiltered as they come“or anything special like that.

It is because I am built to withstand nuclear blasts, dancing in the fire, Brussels Sprouts, shrimp and fried cat.

I am made for handling nonsense and managing narishkeit, you can read about it in the job reviews. Not everyone can say that, but I can.

So instead of telling you the stories I’ll share a couple of lines that sort of relate to them.

Story number one goes something like this. “I think I might have wasted your time and I don’t want to do that.”

“No, you didn’t waste my time. Your material is very useful.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, but it is useless at this particular moment. Let’s revisit in about three years.”

I suppose it came out with more of an edge than I intended or maybe expected because there was an audible gasp.

****

Story number two is a little different and can be related like this.

“I want to tell you what my husband said about the Hokey-Pokey, Bunny Hop and Charleston.”

I nod my head and listen but my lack of poker face betrays my thoughts.

“You are staring as if you think my husband is a fool.”

“Fool probably isn’t the word I’d use.”

“What word would you use?”

“I probably shouldn’t say anything.”

“No, go ahead and speak your mind.”

“In my mind fool conjures up more of a court jester who makes decisions to make others laugh at their stupidity or makes a naive choice.

In this case I am thinking idiot. An intentional idiotic move perpetrated by someone who considered their options and chose the dumbest while trying to convince themselves it is educated.”

Some might say that was harsh or call me a social assassin but others would ask why they are still married but I digress.

Maybe Try Dishonesty

Called someone on the phone and set up time to meet them in person to go over a few things.

“There is an edge in your emails that is creating some issues. I wanted to suggest you work on polishing them a bit because the tone is being misunderstood and that is going to be a problem for you.”

“Josh, not everyone can handle honesty.”

“You don’t know me very well so I’ll understand if you don’t believe me when I say I can be very blunt. Presentation and timing are everything, especially with certain crowds. Maybe try some dishonesty and see how that goes.”

“Josh, I don’t think I can do that.”

“Ok, here is my honest response. If you do not adjust your tone I am going to help you understand what Sherman did to Atlanta.”

“I am not sure how to take that when you are smiling like that.”

“My eyes aren’t smiling. As those who know me best what happens when the twinkle isn’t there or when the vein on my forehead starts to protrude. Those are a couple of my tells.”

“Josh, I know you think you have something special here but you really don’t.”

I shrugged my shoulders, said he might be right and said I had nothing more to say.

“You sure you don’t want to lecture me some more.”

“I have teenagers to lecture. I am responsible for them, I have no responsibility for you. Do as you wish. I am done.”

“What does that mean? Done.”

“Exactly as it sounds. I am going to walk away. I have said my piece on this. Got way too much important stuff to wade around in crap. Good luck and stay out of my way.”

Books On Tape

Thanks to the folks at Audible I listened to The Wild Heart Of Stevie Nicks and The Minuteman over the last few days or so.

I think I have about 60 books in my library and listened to most. It is a mix of fiction and non fiction with a variety of authors and topics ranging from Malcom Gladwell, Mark Twain and Stephen Ambrose to Neil Gaiman, David Spade and Neil deGrasse Tyson.

When you spend countless hours in the car the books on tape make for a pleasant way to make practical use of your time.

But it also makes me realize that sometimes I don’t have the same focus that I do with hard copies. So I wonder if I get the same benefits or if I am missing something.

I miss feeling like I have time to read the way I used to. I used to consume several books a week, but life is different than it once was.

Still I try to make use of the time to continue my education and to be able to say I really have read many of those classics, not for anyone else though.

I do that for me.

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