April, 2010

It’s day one million or whatever since I started this blog. Created new profile on here. So far no friends. It’s a lonely place but I keep myself occupied by reading the warnings on the back of my medicine bottles. One of the voices in my head likes to draw illustrations to go with them. So far it’s always a skull and crossbones so not a lot of variety but the voice always points out that genius is never appreciated in its time. Some of the other voices have pointed out that voice may be crazy. Time will tell.

FINALLY, THE GUYS’ SIDE OF THE STORY.
WE ALWAYS HEAR “THE RULES”
FROM THE FEMALE SIDE.

NOW HERE ARE THE RULES FROM THE MALE SIDE.
THESE ARE OUR RULES!
PLEASE NOTE: THESE ARE ALL NUMBERED “1″
ON PURPOSE!
1. MEN ARE NOT MIND READERS.

1. LEARN TO WORK THE TOILET SEAT.
YOU’RE A BIG GIRL. IF IT’S UP, PUT IT DOWN.
WE NEED IT UP, YOU NEED IT DOWN.
YOU DON’T HEAR US COMPLAINING ABOUT YOU LEAVING IT DOWN.

1. SUNDAY SPORTS. IT’S LIKE THE FULL MOON
OR THE CHANGING OF THE TIDES.
LET IT BE.

1. SHOPPING IS NOT A SPORT.
AND NO, WE ARE NEVER GOING TO THINK OF IT THAT WAY.

1. CRYING IS BLACKMAIL.

1. ASK FOR WHAT YOU WANT.
LET US BE CLEAR ON THIS ONE:
SUBTLE HINTS DO NOT WORK!
STRONG HINTS DO NOT WORK!
OBVIOUS HINTS DO NOT WORK!
JUST SAY IT!

1. YES AND NO ARE PERFECTLY ACCEPTABLE ANSWERS TO ALMOST EVERY QUESTION.

1. COME TO US WITH A PROBLEM ONLY IF YOU WANT HELP SOLVING IT. THAT’S WHAT WE DO.
SYMPATHY IS WHAT YOUR GIRLFRIENDS ARE FOR.

1. A HEADACHE THAT LASTS FOR 17 MONTHS IS A PROBLEM.
SEE A DOCTOR.

1. ANYTHING WE SAID 6 MONTHS AGO IS INADMISSIBLE IN AN ARGUMENT.
IN FACT, ALL COMMENTS BECOME NULL AND VOID AFTER 7 DAYS.

1. IF YOU WON’T DRESS LIKE THE VICTORIA ‘S SECRET GIRLS, DON’T EXPECT US TO ACT LIKE SOAP OPERA GUYS.

1. IF YOU THINK YOU’RE FAT, YOU PROBABLY ARE.
DON’T ASK US.

1. IF SOMETHING WE SAID CAN BE INTERPRETED TWO WAYS AND ONE OF THE WAYS MAKES YOU SAD OR ANGRY, WE MEANT THE OTHER ONE.

1. YOU CAN EITHER ASK US TO DO SOMETHING
OR TELL US HOW YOU WANT IT DONE.
NOT BOTH.
IF YOU ALREADY KNOW BEST HOW TO DO IT, JUST DO IT YOURSELF.

1. WHENEVER POSSIBLE, PLEASE SAY WHATEVER YOU HAVE TO SAY DURING COMMERCIALS.

1. CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS DID NOT NEED DIRECTIONS AND NEITHER DO WE.

1. ALL MEN SEE IN ONLY 16 COLORS, LIKE WINDOWS DEFAULT SETTINGS.
PEACH, FOR EXAMPLE, IS A FRUIT, NOT A COLOR. PUMPKIN IS ALSO A FRUIT. WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT MAUVE IS.

1. IF IT ITCHES, IT WILL BE SCRATCHED.
WE DO THAT.

1. IF WE ASK WHAT IS WRONG AND YOU SAY “NOTHING,” WE WILL ACT LIKE NOTHING’S WRONG.
WE KNOW YOU ARE LYING, BUT IT IS JUST NOT WORTH THE HASSLE.

1. IF YOU ASK A QUESTION YOU DON’T WANT AN ANSWER TO, EXPECT AN ANSWER YOU DON’T WANT TO HEAR.

1. WHEN WE HAVE TO GO SOMEWHERE, ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING YOU WEAR IS FINE…REALLY!

1. DON’T ASK US WHAT WE’RE THINKING ABOUT UNLESS YOU ARE PREPARED TO DISCUSS SUCH TOPICS AS SEX, CARS, THE SHOTGUN FORMATION, OR BASKETBALL.

1. YOU HAVE ENOUGH CLOTHES.

1. YOU HAVE TOO MANY SHOES.

1. I AM IN SHAPE. ROUND IS A SHAPE!

1. THANK YOU FOR READING THIS.
YES, I KNOW, I HAVE TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH TONIGHT;

BUT DID YOU KNOW MEN REALLY DON’T MIND THAT? IT’S LIKE CAMPING.

1. As I let go of my feelings of guilt, I am in touch with my inner sociopath.
2. I have the power to channel my imagination into ever-soaring levels of suspicion and paranoia.
3. I assume full responsibility for my actions, except the ones that are someone else’s fault.
4. In some cultures what I do would be considered normal.
5. My intuition nearly makes up for my lack of wisdom and judgment.
6. I need not suffer in silence while I can still moan, whimper, and complain.
7. When someone hurts me, I know that forgiveness is cheaper than a lawsuit, but not nearly as rewarding.
8. I am at one with my duality.
9. Blessed are the flexible, for they can tie themselves in knots.
10. I will strive to live each day as if it were my 50th birthday.
11. I honor and express all facets of my being, regardless of state and local laws.
12. Today I will gladly share my experience and advice, for there are no sweeter words than “I told you so!”
13. A scapegoat is almost as good as a solution.
14. Just for today, I will not sit in my living room all day in my underwear. Instead, I will move my computer into the bedroom.
15. I will no longer waste my time reliving the past; I will spend it worrying about the future?
16. The complete lack of evidence is the surest proof that the conspiracy is working.
17. Before I criticize a man, I walk a mile in his shoes. That way, if he gets angry, he’s a mile away and barefoot.

(author unknown)

So there I was. Alone. In the woods. My chainsaw as my talisman – it was me…or the tree…It was perhaps one of the largest trees on my property, two chainsaw lengths across. It was my Goliath. It stood in silent challenge. Silent because it was dead which is one of the reasons I chose it as my opponent. The other was I had never cut down a tree that large. Well, not and still had a chainsaw bar that was straight.

I approached with stealth as I surveyed my archnemesis. It was midway through the second cut that it occurred to me to ponder the wisdom of cutting down a tree that big, the realization suddenly hitting me that I’d have to carry the pieces of it out to the tractor which stood out in the open trail.

Then it hit me. Excalibur. My new 50 horsepower diesel steed, it’s front end loader standing in challenge to all that needed carrying. Or grading. Or lifting up. Or dumping out. Or just driving around the pasture because diesels sound so cool…. Others have used their tractors to skidsteer the logs out – why should I be denied that right?

There came a point in the battle when we stood there. Goliath. Myself. Excalibur. Waiting. The cut went 3/4 of the way through. Professional loggers die due to things like this. I bought my chainsaw because it had a cool handle and “anti-vibration” shock absorbers…. Do I cut more? Do I wait for a windy day to finish it off? No. That seemed cruel. Plus, I started this battle with a roaring Husqvarna, it was time to finish it. The snow-covered silence of the woods once again gave way to the growl of my Husqy, which eagerly bit back into the trunk…finally…a small crack… I backed away. In short order, Goliath swayed once and began its plunge to forest floor. I tipped my cowboy hat in silent salute to the fallen forest sentry.

After cutting the tree into sections and wrapping a long cable around it and knocking down a huge section of my woods with my new metal charge – we battled. We fought. Tires dug themselves in to ruts. Several times I had to re-group, the only thing moving was the gentley wafting haze of my cigar smoke as I wondered if amateurs should really attempt feats like this with new equipment.
Suddenly we broke free of the woods into the clearing, emerging dragging sections of tree into the clear where despite what the manual says I still managed to get those sections into the bucket and came home long after the sun set, moving majestically through the wintery night across a moonlit pasture, signal and headlights ablaze, to pose for the pictures you now see, to show those those naysaying detractors about the battle they would never believe occurred.

This is the story of one cowboy’s exploits aboard his steel horse, Excalibur, and their heart-wrenching victory against all odds. Boldly going where no amateur has gone before.

Last night I had to put down my collie, Blaze. She’d become a part of this farm, having gotten her the month after I moved in. She was a working dog and this was ‘her’ herd. She and Skidder, our border collie kept watch of the herd 24/7. I can only remember maybe two nights that they slept inside the house, the rest of the time they had to be outside watching the herd.

She was my constant companion and a friend and playmate to the horses, always playing their game of tag. Having brought her lifeless body home, we gave Skidder time to grieve and came back to find him quietly laying with his head on her back. He stopped calling for her in the middle of the night like he had done the previous night. He helped me bury her, staying at her side. At one point he tried to stop me then realized the futility. I let him say his “goodbyes” to her before covering her up with the light she had chewed up in my driveway and her favorite bones and blocks of wood, and that blue blanket she wrapped herself up in on cold winter nights, sleeping in late in the mornings. She wasn’t exactly a morning dog…not unlike her owner.

I went out to see what my 13 year old had written on the white cross. “Blaze, soar on incandescent wings, rest in peace.” I guess I can’t find anything more profound to say to you Blaze. Now I have to listen for you in the wind as you chase the herd. Only this time, I won’t call you back and tell you to stop teasing them. It’s good for them Blaze. And it’s good for me. God bless you and you’ll live in my memory and heart forever.

Raindance’s Blazing Skies
February 28, 2005 – April 6, 2006

My dad used to listen to a narrow selection of music. When we’d go for family rides in the van, he’s blast the same two cassette tapes – Kenny Rogers and Neil Diamond. They both have songs that to this day if you sing them it makes my brother, sister and me cringe and run screaming for alcohol. It’s not that I have anything against these two gentlemen, but having listened to their tapes non-stop every weekend of our adolescent lives it could explain our actions if we ever ended up in a clocktower with a sniper rifle shooting at cassette tapes. Mom used to listen to nothing but country. Which we all hated. Riding to the mall in her Chevette we’d be subjected to non-stop Country – not like today’s Country, it was the really twangy stuff. We liked rock and pop so Country was the antithesis, the enemy. But…we were the kids, the minions, the prisoners of the war of music. It was hard to imagine worse torture. It existed – it was called chores. But that’s for another discussion. At night dad would turn on classical music on the hi-fi. Now I know that that is a parental weapon, used to keep child vermin out of the living room. I do it now.

We of course rebelled and showed our musical independence with Walkmans once they came out. Suddenly we were able to take back the world and strike a note at the injustice inflicted upon our hearing by our parents.

But it happened. I caught myself telling my girls to turn down that pop crap. I enforce this by singing along with their music, which seems to be comprised of electronic instruments, words blurted out in rapid-fire style and lots of breathing. The breathing part is my favorite, I do that now throughout all their music.

I rarely listen to rock anymore. And when I do, it’s 80′s music which at the time (my high school days) I took for granted. Now I listen with that look of nostalgia. Though I must say my kids love 80′s music as well so I don’t get the joy of inflicting the same musical torture on them when it’s voluntary on their part. And there’s the classics that bridge generations. Who doesn’t tip their hat in respect and either dance or crank it up when “Sweet Home Alabama” comes on? Probably the same people trying to kill Christmas for the rest of us. Led Zeppelin, Elvis (still The King!), Louis B. Armstrong, Glenn Miller, Sinatra, Harry Connick, Jr. oh man, so many that I think cross generations that I should stop because I won’t do justice to those I don’t list.

I listen to my generations ‘classics’ as well – remember when John was still Cougar but became Mellenkamp? Turning the stereo up for “Jack & Diane”, “Pink Houses” and his other music with attitude? The Boss when he was still good and not off the political deep-end and on again, off again with the E Street Band? I’d blare “Born in the USA” – just like I do now. Michael Jackson was pretty much always strange but at least back then he was strange in a semi-cool way. Now he’s lock-up-your-kids strange. And I listen to country. I use the excuse that it’s not my mother’s ‘country and western’ but a new generation. I have a pile of country CDs in my truck. And oddly enough, once I started listening to it, it was like coming home. Just like that first ride on a horse my 36th year, not all that long ago. Now I have a bunch of horses and a bunch of country music. I also listen to jazz, Big Band and music that to me defies categorizing like New Ireland Orchestra and Norah Jones (another CD coming out, woohoo!), Jane Monheit and Renee Olmstead. Blues and orchestral music. Eclectic to say the least. And I find comfort in classical music late at night as an escape from the world.

I don’t wear polyester like my dad so clearly I’m not at all like him. Actually I’m not even sure where you get that much polyester or why it wouldn’t register with you that it didn’t work – the polyester foray into fashion coolness died dad, give it up. Stop wearing socks with sandals and I find it hard to believe that you can’t find a good pair of jeans that go all the way down to below your ankles. He’s also big on generic stuff because it’s cheap and cheap is good even though cheap usually equates to crap in my book. I wear Levis. Apparently they make my butt look good according to female review. I don’t really care, they’re just plain comfortable. Anyway, good thing I had this morning muse to realize I haven’t become become my parents. Whew. Dodged that bullet. Go back to your lives citizens, coolness crisis is over…

You know how you like to put all those ominous FBI, Interpol and other warnings at the front of the DVDs most of us humans purchase – well guess what? It’s only on the DVDs of those of us who have legally purchased your movie. Why don’t you just put those warnings on the illegal bootleg copies and let those of us purchasing the videos legally actually get to the movie and maybe put a “thank you” message to us for keeping you employed at the beginning – a very short one without all those tiny words will be enough to thank us. I don’t want to hurt your feelings but the reality is most of us put the DVD in and because we can’t fast forward past your scary warning to the law abiding, we use that time to go to the bathroom or get snacks in the kitchen, so all your impressive writing is going to waste.
Sincerely,
Jeffrey L. Tucker
Legal Video Watcher
Legal disclaimer: The preceding opinion may or may not express the opinions, views, observations or obsessions of me, myself or I. This work is fiction and/or possibly nonfiction and is not intended to bare any similarity or likeness to any entity, living or dead. Hotly contested words may or may not be a source of global warming. Contains over 90% of the US Government’s required daily rhetoric. Not valid in all 50 states. Void where prohibited. Some settling may have occurred during shipment.

Dearest Redneck Son,

I’m writing this slow because I know you can’t read fast. We don’t live in Ohio where we did when you left home. Your dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles of your home, so we moved. I won’t be able to send you the address because the last Buckeye family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved so they wouldn’t have to change their address.

This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I’m not sure about it. I put a load of clothes in and pulled the chain. We haven’t seen them since.

The weather isn’t bad here. It only rained twice last week; the first time for three days and the second time for four days.

About that coat you wanted me to send; your Uncle Billy Bob said it would be too heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.

Bubba locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it took him two hours to get me and your father out.

Your sister had a baby this morning, but I haven’t found out what it is yet so I don’t know if you are an aunt or uncle.

Uncle Bobbie Ray fell into a whiskey vat last week. Some men tried to pull him out but he fought them off and drowned. We had him cremated, he burned for three days.

Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pickup truck. Butch was driving. He rolled down the window and swam to safety. Your other two friends were in the back. They drowned because they couldn’t get the tailgate down!

There isn’t much more news at this time. Nothing much out of the normal has happened.

Your Favorite Aunt,

Mom