Tuesday, December 28, 2010


If wishes were fishes,
I'd have a full creel.
But I've never liked fishing,
Another can reel.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Today the turkey, tomorrow, the leftovers!

Christmas dinner, assembled and dismantled; two desserts polished off and sitting heavily in my stomach. One son and a wife watching TV, another son and his girlfriend have commandeered the computer. I steal away to my bedroom, my lair, relative peace and quiet, and to my laptop.

Not much going on online, it's Christmas, after all, but I still look around, hoping for a small sign of activity. I'm slightly bored, or maybe just slightly too full and seek a diversion while my body processes the activities.

The dinner was excellent, a team effort. Tomorrow, four of us travel to my sister's farm for a smaller, but no less tasty version of today.

I don't like to make generalities, but today, life is good.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Scene III

I am lying on the bed, waiting for my eyelids to become too heavy to force open any longer, waiting for my thoughts to slow. I stare at the ceiling fan, its barely perceptible whir unable to lull me. I look at the ceiling, and I see the images of people I know or people I miss, images of women I'd like to take to bed, images of driving, singing along with the radio, escaping.

These thoughts come, even as She Who I've Been Waiting For sleeps beside me, turned toward me, her hand almost touching my shoulder. I wish she was awake so she could rid me of these guilty thoughts. I want to trace "I love you" on her skin, and read her a poem that I wrote just for her. I want to kiss her, not minding her 'I just woke up' breath. I want to feel her fingertips on my thigh while I caress her breast...

But she sleeps on, leaving my to my thoughts.

The refrigerator compressor kicks in, and I can hear its vibration in the painting over my head, as it invisibly moves in step. I wonder if the mounting is secure.

I stare again at the fan, and wait to fall asleep. I'm in no hurry. I've got all night, as long as she is sleeping beside me.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Scene II

I drive to the mall, and while parking my car I spot what looks like hers; the same make, model and color. I never got a look at her license plate, so I can't be sure, so I decide to wait. I wait a lot. I may have mentioned that before...

Mall parking lots are much quieter than downtown. There's the occasional snarl of a diesel rig, backing up to a loading dock, the whoosh-thud of a UPS truck door closing, or the whisper of a passing car. The people's voices get garbled in the expanse of concrete and asphalt and steel. It is almost eerily quiet, and I don't care for it.

I slip my iPod into the transmitter, and look for something old and loud, and I choose Won't Get Fooled Again. The best three power chords in rock, and I want to hear them cranked. A young man passes by the car, gives me the thumbs up, and I grin back at him. After he passes I glance toward the mall doors, but I don't see her in the intermittent trickle of shoppers. A few more minutes, I think, and then I will do what I came here to do.

She is the very next woman to exit through the double glass doors, and she is carrying a large plasticized shopping bag with the logo of a large clothing retailer on it. She stops for a moment, and pulls her sunglasses out of her purse and puts them on. She looks around the parking lot, momentarily trying to remember where she parked, like we all do, and then walks to her car.

She really looks good when she walks, I have to say. There is just a slight sway of her hips, and I try to imagine what she would look like as she walks away... but I refocus on her walking this way. I take the 'pod out of the transmitter and place it in my pocket, and I get out of the car.

She sees me as soon as I exit, and flashes me a smile. She starts to walk my way, as I walk to her. The sleek peach colored silk dress she is wearing is molded to her body by the breeze, and when we are at arm's length, I smell the familiar scent of the Tigress she spritzed on before she left. Any woman who wears that scent can have me at once, I swear.

"Hi. Were you waiting for me?"

"You are definately worth waiting for hon, but no, I'm here to shop. I saw your car, thought I'd at least say hello. So, hello."

"That's very nice of you. What are you shopping for?"

"Ah, some hardware I need at work, nothing interesting." It must have been the Tigress. I found myself forgetting why it was so important to have what I came here for. I found myself saying,

"You know what? It can wait, if you're hungry and interested in some lunch"

"That's the best offer I've had today. Where should we go?"

What was going through my mind was 'My place, and you are what I want to eat' but what I said was,

"There's a new Italian restaurant downtown, supposed to be really good. I can meet you there, or follow you home and we can take my car. No point in giving the city twice the parking fees."

"OK. I'm not far from here, but you don't mind driving back out here later?"

"Not at all. Lead the way."

We got into our cars, and I watched her drive out. I put my car into Drive, and slipped in behind her, knowing I was likely going to regret this later.

Goddamned Tigress.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Scene I

Mar 10 07

I park my car on the street, as near to the corner as I can get. I like the choice of going straight ahead or around the corner if necessary. I shut the engine off and wait. I am always waiting.

It's a warm day, so I have my window down. I listen to the traffic noises, the lurching grunt of a truck pulling away, the insistent wail of a distant siren, the happy babbling of office girls on their lunch break. A lot of people can't stand the noise of the city, and yet make it their home. It doesn't bother me; I find the chaos and dissonance strangely soothing. A lullaby to help me sleep at night.

One of my talents, few as they are, is the ability to separate sounds from one another. Amidst the noise, I hear the distinctive twin-pipe burble of a cruiser as it pulls up alongside my car, while the cops inside wait for the light. The squawk of the police radio elicts no response from them.

A young woman crosses in front of the cruiser as she walks across the street. I can see the head of the cop on the passenger side turn to follow her. I glance over at him, and he gives me a look that says what-the-fuck-you-looking-at? If there's one thing this old fucker doesn't worry about, it's cops. He looks like a punk rookie, so I chalk it up to youth and hormones. The light changes, and the cruiser returns to cruising. I return to my waiting.

After what seems like an hour (I don't wear a watch, it is meaningless if you don't have a strict agenda) the warmth in the car begins to make me drowsy. I drift off...

I snap awake, and check the street and my mirrors. Nothing. My hand instinctively reaches into my jacket. It's there, warm from my body, and from the the sunlight on my jacket. I pull my hand back out, and turn on the radio. I need some music to add to the mélange of city sounds, so I find a classic rock station, and 'Let it Ride' melds into the cacophony.

I check my side mirror again, and there she is, walking briskly towards the corner. She is wearing a dark blue jacket and slacks, and carrying an a black leather bag, as I knew she would. I open my door and quickly move around the front of the car, reaching into my jacket as I step onto the sidewalk and face her. She sees me, and slowly, or so it seems, puts her hand into the bag.

I pull it out of my jacket.

She pulls something from the bag.

We stare at each other for a few seconds.

The waiting is over.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Old poem 1

I want to go to the Florida keys,
And catch a salty ocean breeze.
They hang off the coast like a tropical tease.
Can I get to go there, real soon, please?

To stand upon a Floridian isle,
If only for a little while.
I may have rhythym, but I got no style,
But I'd fit right in with my tourist's smile.

I want to go there with a girl
Who'll reach in and give my heart a whirl;
Who'd accept it like it was a pearl,
And when she's done, give it a hurl.

I want to go to the Florida keys,
And catch a salty ocean breeze.
And stand (yes, naked) in the balmy seas.
Can I get to go there, real soon, please?

Wednesday, December 15, 2010


noses are strange
noses are funny
they can be frozen
and yet still runny

Good time Charlie

I was going to post a video, but I have already posted it to my Facebook. A bookend to match the Blue Rodeo video, I suppose...

I need to get my camera and get downtown to the Toucan soon.

There's probably a song here.

It might be lonely at the top, but it isn't any better at the bottom. Unless you count the ghosts milling about.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

I just don't belong here.

Every once in a while I feel left out, like what goes on everywhere but my own blog is over my head. I don't feel witty enough to comment most of the time. Everyone seems so much more intelligent than I. Certainly much more well read than I. I used to read two newspapers a day, and at least a book every month or two. Now, I spend my time online spinning my wheels.

Several times, I have come close to locking my main blog to authors only and ignoring it for few months, but I can't do it...

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Dreams from February 10 2010

This post concerns three dreams I had after sleeping the evening away until midnight, and attempting sleep after going to bed around 2:30. It is longish, so you might want to print it out and take it to the bathroom to read. If you have already been to the bathroom and you have your coffee, I'll start...

I'd like to say this first dream was short and to the point, but it has no point. I was making a delivery to a store downtown, using my car (I have no car, and there are no places to deliver to on this particular dream street). After I managed to wheel everything inside via the front door, the woman in the store insisted I take it back out and go to the other entrance. In my attempt to drive around the block, I came upon one blocked off street after another, and ended up in a rotunda at the military college on the other side of the river.

I don't know if the theory of relativity comes into play here, but I do have a theory about how I ended up kissing my hot second cousin when I was thirteen. But that's a theory for another time, and this dream is over.

The next one was a long, three or four part dream, and I know it means something. If I hadn't figured it out, then I'd be one cold hearted bastard. It concerns her, the one I never met, and never dreamed of once in three and a half years of an emotional roller coaster. This is her first appearance in my dreams.

My wife, who only started appearing in my dreams after I finally moved away (and I don't care what that means) was watching a TV program about people making some kind of affirmations about their lives. I had no desire to watch it, but she read a list of who was on it, and she was one of the guests. I didn't want my wife to see that I knew her, and yet I had to watch...

Now I am in the audience, and I almost try to wave at her and get her attention, but I don't, knowing the stress and possible breakdown it might cause. Nothing happens at this point, and I leave. However, the producers of the show want me to be on the show and talk about my photography (as if!) and they interview me.

They ask me about different techniques I use, and I demonstrate how I hold the camera, making jokes and making them laugh. There is a TV on, and a photographer clutching a Nikon is leaping through a flame filled sky, shooting photos. I point and say, "Now that's how you shoot pictures!" We all laugh, but it's so far fetched. I mean really, a Nikon?

Dream 2, Part 3. It's time for me to go downstairs for the show, and as I get to the bottom, she is there, standing in the hallway. In real life, she's 4'11", but in my dream she is at least a head taller than I am. I come up to her and say hello, and we hold each other. I guess she was supposed to be on the show again. When I try ask her if maybe we should go somewhere and talk, I can't get the words out, and I realize I'm crying. (This part is hard to type). She says no, that she wrote down what she wanted to say and gave it to the TV people on paper. By now, I am bawling like a baby into her shoulder while she holds me.

End of dream two. Tissues are on the end table. I was going to get up and write it down before I forgot it, but once I started writing, it all came back. Maybe I should have left it alone, eh? By now it's 6:30 AM and I think I might get up, but no, I close my eyes.

The third dream is another delivery sequence, and I'm making a delivery to a store outside of the city. Truck? Check. Boots? Check. The rest of my clothes? Nope. Me and a pair of work boots. I have to say that on an occasion or two, I have worn only work boots. Hey, it's a look.

But I digress, back to the dream.

Anyway, I'm at a store that isn't open yet, I'm naked, and here comes the proprietor, a young, jeans clad woman. She opens the store, and we talk for a bit, and she makes no mention that I have no clothes on, and I'm very careful not to say anything that might be taken as sexual. She decides to have a cigarette, and I say, hang on for a bit, and I go to my truck. There on the engine cover, is a pack of smokes, and I open it up and take one out. I put it in my mouth and light it up. I feel guilty for starting smoking again, and yet it tastes so good.

Then I wake up.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Waiting for the mail to arrive.

I don't check my mail all that often, every few days seems to be enough. I don't get much, anyawy, except for the usual flyers and junk mail. My bills are paid automatically or online, and I only rarely send mail, by taking it to a post office.


I await three things, hopefully all arriving by month's end.

1. I ordered a T-shirt and sticker from a site that advertises on the bike forum.

2. I ordered a replacement marriage certificate, so I can start at long last divorce proceedings.

3. Somebody sent me a present! Don't know what it is, and I'm not saying from whom, but it's more exciting than the other two.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Things I do easily

waste money
waste time
ignore talents I have
ignore inflections and body language
fall in love
fail to say "I love you" when I should
say "I love you" when I'm not actually sure
analyse myself or other people
get retrospective when lonely or depressed
write nonsense when I get retrospective
get distracted...

Hey! A fire engine!


see the man wait
behind the gate
don't be late
or agitate
he becomes irate
what have I create-

Friday, December 3, 2010


This is a list of apologies to selected women that passed through my life. I'm leaving out names and most of the details, not that any of them will read this. A few of them are gracious enough to accept, a few might be less so.

A(1). You were the first one that I held long conversations with after I started blogging. Terminating our friendship was way over the top, and I'm sorry for over-reacting. I could contact you, but I'm not sure I would be welcome.

A(2). We had a lot of fun in our chats, and I originally made plans to somehow visit you. I apologize for ending it (though we still are friendly) because I became smitten with...

R. I'm sorry that you had such a rough time for several years, and I apologize for being needy and at times, impetuous. I wish we had met because we coulda had fun.

J. I apologize for being unable to cope with your strength and convictions, and generally being scared of you.

B. I don't know what you saw in me, nor do I know why you still want me to visit you. I apologize for not just saying out loud that it can't possibly work.

S. We talked for a while, and then you seemed to have a thing for someone living a bit south of you, someone you have actually met. I apologize for letting our chats trail off into nothing.

D. You are on my mind all the time and I miss you. We had long talks, and I will remember the time we spent together for always. I'm not sure either of us have anything to be sorry for, aside from living so far apart.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

So, what's new?

I haven't written anything in a long time. My muse up and left about two years ago, slamming the door as she went out and muttering about her time being wasted. I guess that's true; even with a muse whispering in your ear, you still have to put your fingers to the keys now and then.

When I was in love, I wrote goofy love poems, and wrote whenever I was happy. When things went wrong (as they have in all my relationships) I tended to write anti-love poems and dark stories. After a few failed relationships, I gave up. There was nothing to say that I hadn't said before and I felt that I was boring, or worse, seeming that I was looking for a "there, there" from a reader. We all want some kind of validation for what we do, but eventually it's like you're chasing your tail, spiraling in wider circles until you're a long way from where you started.

I just want to put some things on the record, get them out of my head and my heart. Maybe I'll convince my muse to come back if she'll have me. If she does, I may find a new story or poem slipping out from beneath my fingertips. For now, I have a dream or two to share in a few posts.

Next up: an apology.
Stay tuned.
Because being out of tune hurts my ears.