Ten things that I've learned in the past week.

1. Generic Cheerio's do not go well with beer.
2. German Opera is a lot like a really bad "B" movie, I don't know weather to
laugh at it, or be astounded that someone actually spent money and time
creating it.
3. Hole reinforcers (paper assholes for those of us who aren't quite so
sophisticated.) come in various colors, not just off white.
4. People actually pay large amounts of money to eat zebra.
5. Citrus Listerine and Penguin caffeinated peppermints don't go well together.
6. Thirty percent of the people I know didn't laugh when I wished them a
happy VD day.
7. When I have a head cold, I don't taste Tabasco sauce.
8. The skin of the narwhal is rich in vitamin C.
9. Most people don't like black licorice.
10. I'm the only person in my department who has never had a body part
of some sort pierced.

Idjits

Todays Rant:

Today some idjits firebombed a low rent housing complex that was being built in a nearby town. Weather or not they actually were members of the Earth Liberation Front (E.L.F., go figure) as their graffiti stated has no real impact on my views concerning them. If they were members of this (until recent months fairly innocuous) group, they are creating even more enemies for environmentalism.
In an area that still blames those "long haired hippie environmentalists" for the sawmills folding and mines closing, when it had more to do with corporate mismanagement and good old fashioned greed, I would think that environmental groups would be trying to make as many friends as possible.
If, on the other hand this is a small band of individuals that are trying to discredit the environmental movement, I would say that the only thing they really accomplished was to piss off those of use who could use clean affordable housing near town.
I just hope that these assholes, regardless of their motivation, realize that they are very very lucky that nobody was hurt by their little display. Folks up here have a way of dealing with unpleasantness, in spite of our recent influx of civilization. We aren't as likely to live up to the media ideal of "be afraid, be afraid" because a lot of folks up here understand that unwanted and dangerous people can disappear occasionally without drawing attention, have hiking accidents, hunting accidents, get attacked by the local fauna, slip in the snow and not be found till spring, etc.
Take my advice little idjits, go back to the city where that sort of behavior is acceptable and people are willing to let themselves be kept.

Reflections on Fourteen Feet of Polished Mahogany.

Hey, what can I get you?
Whats your name?
Where are ya from?
Really.
So tell me kid, why are you here? Not tryin to be rude ya understand, just want to know your story.
Me? Well I know why I'm here, I work here, I live here, this is my place, these are my people.
This over here is Draft Labatt and a shot. He was driving the car the night a drunk in a pickup plowed into it and killed his wife and two year old child, doesn't remember it at all, walked away without even a scratch.
Double Bushmills over there got to watch his closest friend from highschool fall into a log peeler down at the mill a few years ago, (they had to pick him up with a sponge).
Jackie D. on your other side worked on the row at Quenton, got to help a few choke before he'd seen enough, called it quits and crawled in here.
Early Times neat, down at the end got sent off to bumfuckistan at age eighteen, only three quarters of him made it back. Sort of like Tony Bennett left his heart in San Francisco, well he left his leg in the bush.
Jonny Walker in the corner is a good cop, a descent deputy in a small, good-ole-boy department, still having trouble reading between the lines and speaking the unspoken law.
You'll get to meet Wild Turkey straight in a bit, he's in the john tossing it up, got snatched by a stranger in a campground when he was seven, only had him for a couple hours, won't even talk about it unless he's completely hammered.
Smirnoff and tonic will be around in a few, hasn't slept since 1941, was there the day the ships went down, has never forgiven, has never forgotten.
Meyers and Coke hasn't been in for quite a while, probably steer clear of her till your sure where you stand, got raped by her stepdad when she was thirteen, made a living as a lot lizard for a while, even if she doesn't have anything contagious she'll cut you in your sleep if she decides she doesn't like you.
Don't make any loud noises near Kesslers and water (he's the one who just walked in), was working his way through college as a night shift convenience store clerk, got held up, gave 'em the money like he was supposed to, and got two in the chest for it. He lived, but now he's packin, and jumpy as hell.
Dry Martini is sort of a strange duck. Blew into town about four years ago, rarely talks, always pays cash, just sits and drinks, and occasionally plays a song on the juke box. "Crazy" if your interested, the Patsie Cline version, the only song he plays on that damn thing, you'd think he'd heard it enough by now.
Glenlivet on the rocks works in search and rescue, has been to all the big ones, Mexico City, Northridge, Oklahoma City, WTC. He was a cop before, got shot in the back responding to a 911 call. Don't ever say something smells bad if he's around, he'll be sure to tell you about something he's smelled that was worse.
Whitfields just never got out, was going to make it big, but ended up sticking round here when his folks got sick from drinking the well water, spent eight years taking care of them while they died, never even got an apology from the mining company that dumped the chemicals out there.
Old Crow comes in every night now, didn't see much of him before his wife died, but now he's a regular. He's the one that helped the cops catch that freak a few years ago. He was renting a property to this guy, went by to check on why the rent hadn't been paid since October, and found three human torsos in the wood shed.
We get the others in here too, the ones who are just passing through, just slumming, just trying to soak up a bit of rural Americana, trying to convince themselves that they're tough. We get all kinds here, take all comers, not a really judgmental crowd in here.
So tell me kid, why are you here?
What can I get you?
Whats your name?

Polydactyl Orphism.

A smile,
A nervous laugh,
A touch on the arm,
A meaningful glance,
A whisper in the corridor,
A silent conversation,
A tacit agreement,
A chance for redemption,
A chance for compassion,
A chance for regression,
A chance to forget,
A biological need,
A neurological shortcoming,
A moment of weakness,
A mutual need for contact,
A faint hope that were not alone out here,
A simple desire for company,
A tangible need for something more,
A taste of a long forgotten life,
A morning of regret.

Yep, still tired, still angry.

Haven't been on in a while,
recently bought a nice typewriter (manual),
been telling people its a laptop for neo-ludites.
Haven't had much to say in any event,
still working outside,
not reading as much as I would like,
eating too regularly,
drinking too much,
not exercising enough,
not sleeping (as usual).

Once again where I had hoped not to be,
knowing that something is about to happen,
not in a position to do anything about it,
every year I learn to like people less,
happy fucking new year.