Non-moving Violation - Part I

I would like to think that I am a good citizen.  A follower of rules.  

Rules are for following.  

Without rules, and those who dutifully follow them we 

would live in chaos, no?

When driving on the freeway I keep to the right, except to pass, 

of course if in such passing 

I do not exceed the speed limit.  Although, driving a Prius does 

make it more of a challenge

to follow the ‘minimum’ speed limit, usually 45.

I signal to turn and to change lanes.  

Well, NOW especially to change lanes since 

I was pulled over one Sunday morning in Kirkland for 

NOT SIGNALLING TO CHANGE LANES.  

Guilty as charged.  Yep.  I did it, or didn’t do it, as the 

Kirkland Gestapo so righteously informed me.  I was the 

only car on the planet that morning 

(except for the Kirkland Gestapo squad car)

 and just, willy-nilly, out of my mind in my road borne 

solitude just CHANGED LANES without signaling 

(similar to if a tree falls in a deserted forest does it make a noise?).  

Damn!  Did it!  With wonton disregard to my fellow citizens.  

The Gestapo let me off with a warning, but I do have to wear 

a little yellow patch on my coat showing the outline of a car not signaling.  

So today I took the bus to the baseball game.  A good citizen.  

I used public transit, kept one more car off the freeway and furthered 

the cause of bus ridership.  The Redmond park and ride was full with 

cars of people who had jobs so I had to park on the street.  I parked 

on the street and dutifully followed what the sign said.  

The sign said NO PARKING EAST OF HERE.  

East of HERE.  

I parked WEST of here.

I parked and got out and stood at the sign and wondered 

where was east of HERE?  

I decided that HERE was meant to be where the sign was.  

Like where it was, was somehow, HERE, or where I was standing.  

And my car was WEST of HERE, not EAST.  

Confident I had complied vith ze rhules, 

I boarded the bus and went to the game.

I got back and The REDMOND Gestapo this time had impounded my Prius.  

Towed the sucker away.  

Went to the police station.  

Had to use the “red phone’ in the lobby since the window was closed.  

Yep.  I had somehow violated the rules and been towed.

So, there I was this morning, paying a ransom to the greedy 

evil toad crouched behind the desk at the towing company in Totem Lake.  

His assistant led me back to where they had stashed my car, 

dragging his knuckles down the greasy corridor.  

He didn’t smile.  Nor did I.  

He DID wish me a better day as I drove out of gasoline alley and 

with all my might I resisted telling him I wished that a swarm of 

wasps make a nest up his nose 

and sting the sonofabitch until he crapped acid.

I expect I will get a ticket from the Redmond Gestapo any day now.  

I have decided to contest this.  If I don’t succeed I plan to GET JESSE!!

Stay tuned for 27 - 8 x 10 color glossy pictures with 

circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one…….

It’s ALWAYS something….

Have a Heart

In a room not far from where Dick Cheney got his new heart this week;  Joe Plummer had a heart transplant operation as well.  Mr. Plummer, a resident of Bavaria, Kansas had been waiting almost two years.  When the news came, he and his family flew to Falls Church, Va. Overnight. 

Mr. Plummer is the first beneficiary of the “Used Hearts for Underprivileged Americans” program.  This new lottery based program gives folks who can’t afford the operation a fighting chance to live just a little while longer with a used heart.  Joe is a special patient, though.  He has received Mr. Cheney’s old heart.

“Yeah, I’m real glad to get this thing,”  Joe remarked.  “Hell, I was gonna die before June anyway.  Now maybe I can see the fireworks show one more time in Junction City.”  Joe will reuse Mr. Cheney’s heart pump, wired too his chest.  It’s not known how long the used heart will keep ticking.  Surgeon Rich Cutter said, “We don’t know how long this thing will work, but the price is right.”

Some complications, which are normal, have set in.  “After 2 days with this contraption I’ve been having these weird, dark thoughts and desires to take over the hospital and just go on down there and run the place my own way.”  Said Plummer.  “Damnedest thing too.  I’ve never wanted to secretly run things.”

Joe also asked for his shotgun and wanted to “blast a few things ta’ hell”.  With this new ticker, he just might have that chance.  Lookout, central Kansas.

My God, it’s always something…….

Quieting your inflammation

This is the end of my first week on the “Abascal Way” diet.  “What the hell is that?” you ask.  And, I have to say, I’m really not sure I can explain it.  Being from Kansas I can’t say I’m one to be up on my diets.  One goes on a diet in Kansas only when the front bench seat of your ’87 Buick cannot be further moved back to accommodate your girth.  Oh, there are other ways to get to the grocery store, I mean you can always have uncle Ernie come over with his flatbed, but It’s nice to maintain your independence.

This “Abascal Way” diet is quite fascinating really.  Better to look at the web site than to have me try to explain it.

http://www.toquietinflammation.com/

It’s about “quieting inflammation”, whatever that is.  I still don’t understand it.  I DO know that after an initial struggle I am beginning to feel better.  The point of this diet is to eliminate foods that are typically not good for your system and therefore ‘inflame’ you, such as whole milk, bread, corn, fatty stuff, sugary stuff, you know, stuff you really like.  There is really a better way to eat, with high protein foods, fruits and vegetables.  I’ve been doing this, and have found that I didn’t really have a craving for Crosby Stills Nash & Young. 

So, yeah, ok, I have been feeling better.  Lost some weight, all that.  I’m still in the process of eliminating foods that maybe, perhaps, just possibly have been causing my body to rebel, feel bad and just generally be out of sync.  Like that total crap feeling I always used to get pulling out of a McDonalds or KFC.  I’m sure you can think of something that does you in as well.

I was thinking today, this is fine for my body, but what about my mind?  Could one eliminate bad information that comes into it and thus force it to function out of sync?  Could what I have been listening to on a constant basis, all the bad things barraging my mind …… - then it dawned on me.  Politics, Current news events,  World news - on and on with all the vitriolic bombast from every cretin on Facebook for instance.  FB is chocked full of vitriolic cretins.  What yammer!!  Just shut it off!

I long to stay connected, however.  Shutting yourself off from this, yet staying connected is a bit of a conundrum.  I have decided that it is about choice.  MY choice.  A choice to not internalize the bemoaning’s of the cretins and letting it eat at you.  It will be challenging, but I have decided to choose to filter it out.  Easier said than done, however, I think I’m on to something. 

What was that you just said about Obama?  Sorry, I wasn’t listening.  

It's always something

Trash truck pac man

I spend more time in my art studio these days.  It's in back of the house, by the alley.  Retirement of sorts is one reason for this.  Having no work is the other.  It's a blended combination caused by old age and The Great Recession.  I'm so glad this now has a name.  I preferred The Great Depression II, but it didn't catch on.  

You're wondering "what the hell has this got to do with a trash truck?"  

Waste Management has a schedule.  They pick our trash up on Tuesdays.  All morning.  I noticed this since I too have been here all morning.  First pass - about 8 AM.  But it's just a fly-by.  Just a go-through, as if to see if trash is still here.  It is.  The truck rumbles through at a pretty good clip for a Tyrannosaurus Rex, not picking anything up, but disturbing the gaggle of crows smorgas-boarding on my neighbors overflowing trash.  I wonder if this maybe is a time trial run.  You know, just to get the 'feel' of the track conditions or something.  Or to lay claim to indeed having the 'baddest truck on the circuit'.

Time trial is over and 15 minutes later the truck comes down from the other direction, picking up my other neighbor's trash, and disturbing the crows again to the south.  10 more minutes and the truck speeds down the street, not turning down our alley.  Then moments later, the other direction down the street.  I'm wondering if Rex has found some prey and is perhaps chasing it down before feasting on the caged meals awaiting in their green bins.

Silence.

Then Rex comes stealthily from the other alley's direction.  The crows scatter and Rex devours their meal, leaving few remnants as he leaves the alley - and, MY trash.

Then, Rex returns from the street this time down my alley and stops at our bins.  "Aha!  thought you would be spared, eh?"  He devours our bin of sacrifice.

Then up and down the alley twice more, and the street.  I can hear Rex in the distance now, feasting on neighbors south.  It remains a mystery.  I have to take out more trash...talk later.

It's always something

Newt-Cicle

A fellow blogger ‘The Voice of Reason’ posted this on Facebook today.  He took the photo and was asking around if anyone knew what it was.  I guess it was kinda like ‘Encounters of the N’th Degree’ or something like that movie.  Well, I looked closer and did a spectrum analysis on it and found the likeness of Newt frozen inside. 

This “Newt-cicle” must have come from another dimension, nearest thing I can figure.  I know we’ve been seeing this guy a lot lately.  Maybe this is a future thing sent back to the past, or, like, now.  Like in Back to the Future.

So what the hell happened in the future to cause this Newt-cicle to land in a residential cul-de-sac here in the northwest?   I just have no idea.  His expression looks like he’s surprised, turning and saying, “Hey, don’t freeze me into a big popsicle dick and put me into space!” 

Maybe he was elected president.  Wow. 

I know that tricky Dick got kicked out of the White House and sent home on a helicopter.  Clinton too, well, almost.  And God knows what’s going to happen to Obama.  But just imagine – the first president to get sent into space as a big frozen phallus.  Wow.  I can hardly wait for the future!

It’s always something…