Even as the night goes unwillingly and it’s darkness clings to the remaining hours not even the fumbling fingers of an old man on a keyboard can withstand lightnesses early arrival. I’ll pay for this later I tell myself but laying claim to these early morning routines allows me the tranquility that only me, the birds, and a few moist worms can enjoy alone for our reprieve.
I have had a hint at the news while waiting for the water to boil for the coffee and I won’t be turning that back on. One of my tasks that awaits me is how to disconnect cable while keeping my landline phone and the internet.
Hope springs eternal is still the mantra with the weather though compared to other parts of our country we really don’t have anything to complain about. Playing with fonts and opening size letters are all I can do to keep my fingers moving. Where did the Tiger go that I had planned to feature in this article. Let me go try and find him.
“In parties of conversation, avoid a frequent and excessive mention of your own actions and dangers. For, however agreeable it may be to yourself to mention the risks you have run, it is not equally agreeable to others to hear your adventures.” Epictetus
So this oft quoted stoic really didn’t take into account the invention of Facebook. If talking about ourselves isn’t enough, we delight in talking about other people, admirably or otherwise. Has anybody determined what gets posted the most? I’m guessing babies followed by pets, though “woe is me” has to be included in the list somewhere. So here is a story about me. While standing in a department store recently (Dillard’s in Springfield, MO.) after Mary dropped me off and went to park the car. (97°) A woman who happened to walk past me became startled and aghast, she said: “I thought you were a mannequin.” So that was only the second time my stoic motionlessness got me accused of being something I was not. The first time was when I was in the hospital sitting in the chair by my bed, wearing my white robe, (matching my white beard) and the cleaning lady came in, and seeing me move, was also startled, she said: “I thought you were a stuffed animal.” The End
Seriously, they have discovered or maybe they made an enzyme that will eat plastic. No, I don’t know who “they” are, they weren’t very explicit about that and no, they did not say if you had to feed the plastic to the enzyme or it just ate it right out of your hand, like in the middle of your chocolate smoozie or whatever those things are you keep taking pictures of and showing them to the who world on public and everything else. Who do you think I am Edward R. Murrow or somebody?
I love to see people who have it together, impeccably dressed, not a wrinkle or a spot, walking briskly, confidently, with an air of superiority. They own their world and nothing can throw them off course to admit they might have an error in their way. NO I DON’T. I want to see them, deep in the recesses of their dark spaces when they throw a fit, a tantrum of, a massive tirade for some picayune thing that so riles them, it scares them, “maybe I’m not so perfect after all.” Maybe they’re normal like us. Who though, we too pray every morning and tidy our worlds, can be thrown off course and slam doors mumble through our inconsistencies that for the grace of God it could be a lot worse. If I were too perfect, it wouldn’t be me. But I can recover, I’ve done it a million times before and whose counting anyway. Merrily, merrily, life is but a dream is not for those souls who feel every hurt, every pain, be it ours or others. Our strength lies not in our confidence but in our resiliency to stand at the end of the day, and still stand. The End
We are petitioning the courts to forfeit all fines incurred over the last half century declaring them inviolate of any said rules in the aforementioned writ of habeus corpus christi, Texas where we did not live in the half past century and heretofor when ever you mention in the previous our past it really won’t matter because we are no longer on whee witness protection plan as was recently ruled on sin subsection 401 (b) of the commonality clause.
In 334 BC the Macedonians invaded Persia but then they had a party and half the Persian
Women married half the Macedonian men, and then they traveled over deserts without the benefit of any Oasis Beef Huts, as say exist still to this day in Hazel Crest, Illinois. And as a result half of them died before the reached Babylon, Alexander made it but he would soon die after killing his best friend who had previously save Alexander’s life. Moral of the story, never save your best friend’s life, he will only come back to kill you in the end. The End’😫⚽🎳
I called my boss on lunch break today. She said “please don’t tell me that you are leaving” “How did you know?” I replied. “We’re moving to Missouri at the end of the month”. We’re both retired now and I still see her with her Husband walking in park. Had I stayed I would have put maybe 35 years in at NU, Had a degree and wouldn’t have drifted into poverty. Never think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, especially if the other side of the fence is in Missouri.
well, this is going to be an exercise in futility. I go to sleep early for a change and wake up at 1 30, My body thought that was just a nap and woke me up to do what. I could go see what is on the TV and then fall asleep in the LaZboy. That might work. Nothing has happened in the few hours I have been asleep, I could wake up my friend down in Missouri and tell him its time to go to work but he would be mad jajajajajaj, those are suppose to be h’s but I am not going to change them. We watched Alexander last afternoon and then read about him. He’s half myth and half Macedonian I think. Son of Zeus, cousin to Appolo, Taught by Socratese, Colin O’Donnel.
The Sun is ardent and passionate about today. Riveting its rays on our sub saharan souls we melt in its presence. No lap of luxury exudes from the shores of Great Michigan Lake cascading along the coastline of our environs.
Sorting through the formats of life can be difficult when you are not sure how many choices you have. Just step out on the porch, lower the shade and soak up the HEAT.
At 8:00 am the rays are coming over the horizon of the lake zeroing in on your face, best to have some shade to pull down to offset the blazing glare. As one friend once said your not going to get anything done just sitting there talking about it. I best be moving on and getting on it it. BUT WAIT!! Did I win the lottery last night? “Shut up fool, you’ll know soon enough.
David Roberts is the manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers. The position of Manager of a baseball team comes with some DIGNITY, until you offer something to deny its presence. While the Dodgers are the clear front runners in their Division, it is by no means a given that they won’t experience some sort of catastrophic injury to say Kershaw and suffer an ignoble descent.
So, with something akin to half the season left to play, Roberts comes out with a slam against the White House to say he is not going, when he hasn’t even got the World Series in hand to even be invited. Personally, I wouldn’t give two hoots if NO SPORTS FIGURE ever goes to the White House and let me add further, for playing a game they shouldn’t even BE INVITED to the White House. So this is going to sound crazy, but since we are harkening back to olden times a lot. Let’s go back to Gladiator times and every time there is a near brawl of (one’s afraid and the other is glad of it) that all participants be escorted to the Los Angeles Coliseum and thrown into the mix with cudgels and other instruments until there is a final conqueror.
Should there be no clear winner after several reviews and protests amidst chants of We Won’t Go, bring in the Lions and Tigers. of which I have a picture of around here somewhere.
ONE MORE THING; MEN, If you always wear a suit you can use the bathroom anywhere.
“If you take responsibility for yourself you will develop a hunger to accomplish your dreams.”
“So many of us are looking for a savior to rescue us. The government. The lover who will heal the wounds of the past. The expert who will show them “the one thing” that will make all the difference. If you wait on these things, you will wait a very very long time.
Only you can rescue yourself. This is not a tragedy. It’s an opportunity. The ultimate opportunity, in fact. “
I find the above IRKSOME. The only thing absent from its high sounding mantra is the ending. “You idiot.” I’m going out on a limb today challenging a concept of many gurus out there today who preach a philosophy of ‘self help’ I was introduced to W. Clement Stone, Norman Vincent Peale, Zig Ziglar and Napolean Hill many years ago. Long before the likes of Tony Robbins, Les Brown and others. I would not say the latter are charlatans but copycats who have refined the same message in their own image.
I no longer hope for the day that “I shall overcome”, I have. And I know how I got here. Others too often say who have traversed a similar path, “if I can do it, anybody can do it.” I say that’s a false lie. It’s not true. None of us are made so much alike that what fits one’s life is guaranteed to fit another’s.
Now I have hit a stumbling block of remembrances of laying naked on a dungeon floor while others of my age were struggling through high school and puberty and proms and cars, all because I was kicked out of my home which my parole officer used to have me sent back. Oh, there’s more, there’s always more. But where were the soothsayers of self recovery then, where were the protestors of inhuman justice perpetrated against juveniles then. Did they think we were machinery and changing a few parts here and there would be like the kissing of a boo boo and there it’s all better now.
See, I’ve lost my way and can no longer focus my attention on the task at hand. It’s at this point the writer knows what he or she is writing is nothing more than the flailing of their arms screaming into the night. Followed of course by the crumpling up of the paper torn from its moorings in the typewriter and sent flying toward the rubbish can. But this isn’t a typewriter, nor paper, nor someone who minds that they are still not quite happy about yesteryear…..
I should give reference to the above quote as being attributed to A. Lincoln.
This coincides with doing one day at a time. A euphemism that is followed by many who traverse these lands. Additional content shall be forthcoming. Whenever I work from the office of Dr. Dryasdust I am sure to encounter conditions in harmony with sneezing. Since I am a slow individual anyway we’ll tackle this project slowly. Wait a minute, this is my new format of posting to social media. It is in so doing that I have all my posts under one roof and don’t have to wait 2, 5, or 7 years for Memories to bring them back round again. And should any medium not like my posts, I’ll still have them. Which brings to mind another thing. I can go back and re-capture my old posts and bring them over here to consort with other thoughts, I’ve thought.
I wouldn’t believe it had I not seen it myself only moments ago. I didn’t even catch the name of the tournament, having only changed the channel in time to watch the devastation careen off the lip of the cup.
I am moving over to my website, scotirish.org, exclusively beginning this coming Friday. We have been down this road before but as I enter this year I need to discard the old and search for something completely new, and believe me, it is not on Facebook.
On March 1, 1978, I began a new chapter in my life when I was released from a federal halfway house. Judy Kalina (nee Hullings), drove me down to 832 S. Wabash in Chicago in her yellow Bug Volkswagen. There wasn’t much to my departure, sign out pick up my belongings (a box of books) and officially move in to my new home in Evanston.
This site is still under construction as you may have heard. Today, we are starting all over again. And I suppose the first thing I need to tell you is that I like Rock and Roll and Rhythm and Blues and about most musical genres to tell you the truth. You will see that interspersed throughout my writings.
As I approach my 74th year, and soon too, like next month. There’s no mountains to climb, no things to overcome, and no vision other than to cross the finish line. I’ve done most of the overcoming and mountain climbing that I am going to do. There are those who want to push me to do more goal finding, what does God want me to do. Well I don’t know to tell you the truth but if he has something for me I’ll be ready and if He doesn’t than I have done the best I can and we’ll live with it.
In the mean time we’ll do a lot of reviewing because as I have experienced these 74 years, like the Farmers Insurance man says I know a lot, because I have seen a lot. Take this particular Web Site which I call Thomson Home Emporium. It will become the merchandising arm of the publication. Other pages will have other functions that we will bring to life as we proceed. Other than being the Editor of a weekly Prison Publication Editor of The Weekly Echo. for a few years all I really have is a lot of gumption. To that end we will see what we shall see. More to be forthcoming, that’s for sure. And let me say, most of y’all know me to one degree or another, you see something that might benefit this site feel free to speak up. John C Thomson