What happens when you’re late to the boat.
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Most of the time, I have the best of intentions. A week into the oil devastation that now ravages our gulf coast, and I’d already registered my name with the Audubon Society as an eager volunteer, ready to give up his summer for the clean-up cause. That oil devastation, as you may know, is now going on Day 34, I believe. Or over a month, whichever sounds worse. This past weekend, though, I found myself in Biloxi, smack dab in the middle of Mississippi’s manmade coastline…and I didn’t clean up a thing. I didn’t have to. Now, it wasn’t entirely a planned trip. We’d...
The end of the world is not an excuse to be tacky.
Filed under: End of the World, Everyday, faith, family, food
Gosh. All this talk about 2012, and the end of the world, has made me both hungry and excited. That's a dangerous combination, coupled with the fact that Lil' Wayne, The Smashing Pumpkins, and Janeane Garofalo are listed on various 2012 websites as celebrity believers in this Doomsday Prophecy. I mean, please... That's enough right there to make me gorge myself to near death on a jar of warm mayonnaise. To be honest, I'm not sure where my depth of awe in the Apocalypse even comes from. I don't know why it intrigues me so much. I'm sure, like most everything else...
How on earth do you wash a Fedora? [and other random thoughts]…
![Link to How on earth do you wash a Fedora? [and other random thoughts]…](http://cleverkris.com/wp-content/themes/psm/scripts/timthumb.php?src=http://cleverkris.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/mind-analysis.jpg?w=92&h=250&w=250&zc=1)
I have been intensely busy, lately. Not just by hand, either. My mind...it often goes into Mach 7 when I attempt to procrastinate (by the way, the word "procrastinate," itself, is ironic - I mean, by the time you write the word out, you could have done something already - it's not a word for the lazy), and the only thing I can physically do to make it stop is to sleep (even though my dreams are usually full of anger when I do that - last night, for instance...ouch!), but if I don't stop it, from time to time, it just runs all...
I feel pretty sure God said He was going to stop doing that to people.
I love bad weather. I hate flying. Putting the two together does not help, because the spectrum on which they reside is of equal value. Both haunt my dreams, and continuously. I'm hoping...against hope I would imagine since we're entering that stage of the season where thunderstorms lurk around the farthest oak trees, down the highway, and then appear suddenly, from the limb tops...still, I'm holding out that the weather will be nice toward the end of June when I must board a plane and fly to Tacoma, Washington. For funsies, you say? No. Not for funsies. For competition. The community theatre I work with...
When TVs were furniture.
When I was growing up, we only had three channels on TV. Four, if the weather held and the antenna was cooperative. Those precious, precious channels were 2, 4, 9, and sometimes 11. If not for the fickle, rusty antenna, I may very well have developed an unnatural kinship with the TV. Oh, that antenna...a genuine eyesore, standing as it had my whole life, like a Sentry a little above the chimney; it also served as a lightning rod, so you know, we had to decide which was more important: ABC on Channel 11 coming out of Meridian legibly, or a house on fire if we were ever...
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