I got up this morning, much like any other morning, fuzzy headed in hair and mind. Made the morning stumble to the coffee maker and drew off my first cup and headed into the living room to go through my morning mail. Usual stuff, 100 messages and only 2 worth reading. Afterwards I did my normal search of my comics to get a good mood rolling and then switched over to read CNN. I find the world is a little easier to deal with after a chuckle or two. It also lets the caffeine seep into my brain a little more. I stared at the top of the page, right hand column as usual but started reading from the bottom of the column to the top, which is unusual. I finally read the very first entry and was hit with it like a ton of bricks: Author Hunter S. Thompson commits suicide.
It struck me hard. I guess a side effect of reading a lot of Dr Gonzo makes you feel like in a way you know him personally. He, in my own opinion, never had the proverbial fourth wall between his writing and his readers. You could take his words and add his voice without a second thought, much in a way I like to think I write. His work got me to stop worrying about “accepted styles” and more about writing what I thought I needed to say. I hate to say this but I feel slightly numb over the whole thing. It is a lot like waking up from anesthetic and realizing your short a body part you were not aware of before. You may have consciously known it was there because you were told it was, but the feeling of its absence is more real that the actual presence it had. Maybe he had more of an affect on my writing than I thought, but I can only now realize it more consciously since he is no longer “here” any more.
But then again, I could be totally off. I think I’ll end this one by swiping a line or 3 from Dr Gonzo himself, commenting on Nixon’s death: “but I don’t believe that and wont, not until I gnaw on his skull with my very own teeth. The nineties weren’t the sixties but they were wild and I personally had signed on for the whole trip.” The nineties are gone and behind us. Perhaps he ascribed to the cyclical nature of time and saw us headed again into a fifties style McCarthyism. Then again, maybe he has finally been accepted into the great club of the immortals and is now kicked back on a white sand beach in a recliner, drinking a drink from some ceramic Buddha with little umbrellas shooting at passing gulls with Elvis as Jim Hendrix plays soft tunes in the background, waiting for Amelia Airheart to call them in for their fresh peanut butter and fried banana sandwiches with side orders of dodo bird. Or perhaps, it just finally got too weird for him. No matter what, it can be said he wrote the ending to his own life and did not let it be written for him.
Where ever you are Dr.Gonzo, enjoy and thank you.
Till next time,
Be mindful and awake.
Monday, February 21, 2005
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Hit and Run
First let me post something from a recent comment I received via my blog, in it’s entirety, without any editing:
“LOL ... Those are some old buildings man, And before the floodwall was erected, That main street was under the Ohio several times. These things being considered i suppose the musty odor might be expected. As for the feelings, lol I suppose if you've heard about the place's history and the "Mothman" BEFORE you came into town, you'd either consciously or unconsciously be LOOKING for something (ANYTHING) out of the ordinary, Therefore ... You'd find it surely enough. As for the "Dread" ... WHAT? LOL I have left this place so many times only to have it welcome me back warmly, Dread as in not having a great deal of opportunity for graduates perhaps but then again as iv'e said: Iv'e been around and seen SEVERAL of towns with THAT kind of "Dread" ... Yea this place is alright and i have a hard time imagining a MALE anyway ... being afraid to walk ANYWHERE short of the Little Algiers section of New Orleans or perhaps the Hill District in Pittsburgh and places of the like ... I certainly can't imagine anyone being afraid of a little old rural town with a spook story that's around 40 years old. One last thing ... lol These are POWER plants LOL There are NO NUCLEAR plant's around here. LOL”
It was unsigned. Apparently whomever this was cannot effectively use the shift key for what ever reason and from the amount of “LOL” that has been used can not be bothered to try and make a witty comment without a cymbal crash to clue us in to the fact it was funny.
Now granted, perhaps I did have some preconceived notions before I went to Point Pleasant. I can agree to that, without hesitation, but one does not go anywhere without preconception, unless heavily medicated, as I would most likely recommend for the author of this anonymous comment.
As for questions about my masculinity, I take great offence at this. Prior to such a comment I tried to keep an open mind, but when a poltroon initiates such personal attacks, I have a tendency to loose any objectivity. I would be more than willing to address this with the person who would not even identify themselves at a time and place of their choosing, in a manner of their comfort. All I request is their card and their seconds contact information. I would wager I could call upon any of my friends to second for me, be they male or female. Also, it would be nice to know where to send the flowers when I am finished with them as I feel I would make any correction to their improper attitude most permanent. This is not a threat by any means, as those who do know me know I do not make idle threats. If you consider yourself “man” enough to utter such words, then be willing to stand by them or sulk off into the vast wastes of the net, never to return, like the coward you have shown yourself to be until this point.
And lastly, the power plants comment. I have never claimed to be an expert in the visual recognition of power plants from a moving vehicle. My observation of the plant were mostly of the twin cooling towers that are of the same visual design as many other nuclear plants. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks then to assume it is a duck is not a mental fallacy. If it turns out it is not a duck, then be gracious and admit it is not a duck. So therefore, a power plant, no matter conventional or nuclear, is not a duck.
Till next time,
Be mindful and awake.
PS And learn to use the shift key!
“LOL ... Those are some old buildings man, And before the floodwall was erected, That main street was under the Ohio several times. These things being considered i suppose the musty odor might be expected. As for the feelings, lol I suppose if you've heard about the place's history and the "Mothman" BEFORE you came into town, you'd either consciously or unconsciously be LOOKING for something (ANYTHING) out of the ordinary, Therefore ... You'd find it surely enough. As for the "Dread" ... WHAT? LOL I have left this place so many times only to have it welcome me back warmly, Dread as in not having a great deal of opportunity for graduates perhaps but then again as iv'e said: Iv'e been around and seen SEVERAL of towns with THAT kind of "Dread" ... Yea this place is alright and i have a hard time imagining a MALE anyway ... being afraid to walk ANYWHERE short of the Little Algiers section of New Orleans or perhaps the Hill District in Pittsburgh and places of the like ... I certainly can't imagine anyone being afraid of a little old rural town with a spook story that's around 40 years old. One last thing ... lol These are POWER plants LOL There are NO NUCLEAR plant's around here. LOL”
It was unsigned. Apparently whomever this was cannot effectively use the shift key for what ever reason and from the amount of “LOL” that has been used can not be bothered to try and make a witty comment without a cymbal crash to clue us in to the fact it was funny.
Now granted, perhaps I did have some preconceived notions before I went to Point Pleasant. I can agree to that, without hesitation, but one does not go anywhere without preconception, unless heavily medicated, as I would most likely recommend for the author of this anonymous comment.
As for questions about my masculinity, I take great offence at this. Prior to such a comment I tried to keep an open mind, but when a poltroon initiates such personal attacks, I have a tendency to loose any objectivity. I would be more than willing to address this with the person who would not even identify themselves at a time and place of their choosing, in a manner of their comfort. All I request is their card and their seconds contact information. I would wager I could call upon any of my friends to second for me, be they male or female. Also, it would be nice to know where to send the flowers when I am finished with them as I feel I would make any correction to their improper attitude most permanent. This is not a threat by any means, as those who do know me know I do not make idle threats. If you consider yourself “man” enough to utter such words, then be willing to stand by them or sulk off into the vast wastes of the net, never to return, like the coward you have shown yourself to be until this point.
And lastly, the power plants comment. I have never claimed to be an expert in the visual recognition of power plants from a moving vehicle. My observation of the plant were mostly of the twin cooling towers that are of the same visual design as many other nuclear plants. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks then to assume it is a duck is not a mental fallacy. If it turns out it is not a duck, then be gracious and admit it is not a duck. So therefore, a power plant, no matter conventional or nuclear, is not a duck.
Till next time,
Be mindful and awake.
PS And learn to use the shift key!
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Point Pleasant
Some people ask me what I do during the day. Sometimes I can give them pretty strait forward answers. Today may not be one of them.
I had a service call in Gallipolis, Ohio; which is right across the river from Point Pleasant, West Virginia. I've done several ramblings about "The Mothman" and Point Pleasant, but I had never actually been there. Well, I had an hour I had to kill for lunch and considering it was less than 5 minutes away I decided "What the hell...”
So I jumped on the highway, went over a bridge, went around a turnabout and came up onto a second bridge. The second bridge is the one that put me into Point Pleasant.
The first thing I noticed, because I have a tendency to watch for the unusual; I don't know, maybe it is part of writing, maybe it's just i like to keep my wits about me, but the first thing I noticed coming across that bridge was a man.
Now, normally seeing a person walking across a bridge is not a major deal, but this person kind of set the tone for my trip into Point Pleasant. Obviously a human. Well, what else would you expect in the middle of the day around lunchtime on a weekday? But there was something odd about him and as I looked at his face I realized that almost half of it hung slack from his skull, as if some sort of birth defect or maybe an injury, maybe that part of my mind that likes to come up with the strange and unusual; a mutation. So I proceeded over that bridge and found myself heading down the main drag. It's part of a Us Highway so it is fairly easy to find. So once heading down that drag I found a McDonalds.
Now I had originally considered just going to some small little cafe in Point Pleasant to sit down and have lunch, but i decided that was not a good idea. I had a hunger for fish. Now normally fish is one of those things I can take or leave; I like it, but I do not go out of my way to find it. Then I thought i would stop and have fish at a local cafe. Well, I remember while driving down the street that we were less than five miles from a nuclear power plant on the downstream side. I thought about it and the more I thought about it the more I understood about that part of me that is there for self-preservation. I decided against the fish. I figured my best bet was a chain fast food place like a McDonalds, because their food would be shipped in from outside the area. Less chance of something strange. I know, I am being overly paranoid, but when dealing with things like this, having read the amount of things i have about dealings with Point Pleasant and The Mothman, I figured going there by myself was enough of a chance; I shouldn't set my self on fire as it were.
I got a couple of fish sandwiches from McDonalds and I pulled into the historic district. I sat the and observed down the street as I stuffed my face with the multiprocessor corporate aquatic life form. Something odd struck me about the town, but I didn't know what it was. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It's not odd as in an "everything was painted in 60's psycodelic colors" or "it's odd because the buildings are all built with a right hand slant and angled windows." No, this was more of the kind of odd you pick up on in an H.P.Lovecraft novel. One of those times your senses are warning you and the hair stands up on the back of your neck kicking in that part of you that tells you "your not in the place you should be..." So I decided that was enough of a motivating factor to get out of the car.
I walked down the main drag of old Point Pleasant; the old historic district, the part of town that would have been there in the 60's when the bridge collapsed and the spotting of Mothman took place. I was overwhelmed by senses one does not usually find while standing one small block away from a major us highway at lunchtime on a week day, that runs through the center of a town between two major cities. Traffic was fairly heavy; yet, being one block away you could hear the sound of the store signs creaking in the wind overhead. The sky itself today was a little strange. It is a bluish purple. This is not that strange for wintertime in the Ohio Valley. What makes it odd is the temperature is 71 degrees, it's January 13th. This is supposed to be winter, the time of cold and snow.
I wasn't really worried about coming across the real Mothman in downtown Point Pleasant. A couple things I felt were on my side:
1: He has never been know to frequent a McDonalds
2: It was broad daylight
From all the descriptions I have ever read he has only been seen at night and from the description of how he looks, it makes sense. He's got large eyes, daylight would probably hurt him. But today is not overly bright, and sometimes, I am not either. So, I decided to take a walk. I walked about a block from the car and went by an old movie theater I saw. Now, I am one of these people who have a love/hate relationship, in a sense, with old movie theaters. I love them because of the films they have shown. the places inside are much more than the sterilized modern 64 screen megaplexes. There is something unique about each one, even when there are 2 on the same city block. but as I walked up to this one I made not of a couple of things. In the marquis where they hang the poster, where you would expect to see the poster for some second run movie. One that had already made the circuit, been on cable and regular TV, and could be leased for $20.00 to show in a theater like this. There wasn't what I expected. There wasn't "Cannonball Run II" or "Matrix Revisited", something that has come and gone everywhere it would make money, now just to be used as a honey to bring flies into some small town theater. No, in these were something a little bit different. They were vintage movie posters from the 1950's, old B movies. Three color posters; outlines; to movies I have heard of, I myself have never seen. It was strange. Inside the ticket booth was a small sign that said "Showing: Mothman 5:00PM". I wasn't going to hang out there till 5pm cause I had to be back.
I started thinking more and more and I noticed that a scent started to assail me. Not one of those scents that you catch on the wind that bypasses you and its gone. This is one of those ones that crawls up your nose lays both of its grimy little hands, hard, nails first into your sinuses. It was a smell of mold and mildew. Its the kind of smell you get when you go into a basement that hasn’t been opened in 50 year, that has been flooded and drained all on its own. Memories and pieces of time gone by, rotting. The whole city had that scent to it; it took a while. I walked about another block past a large number of closed stores. What I found interesting was every store that was closed was actually open, in a different building, a few blocks down. Nothing new, just everyone moved around. Not like they really had anywhere to go, but more the act of moving was important. It was a strange thing to see. I decided I was about to turn around and head back to the car so I would have enough time to get back to my appointment, and there, on a small side street i saw something I never thought I would see in Point Pleasant: The Mothman.
No, not the Mothman of the books or the movie, nor was it something that really should not have been there. It was a statue, someone’s impression; an artist gone wrong with an arc welder and a torch. The eyes were huge, as one would expect, and a mouth with fangs. But I never remember fangs in the descriptions nor do I remember claws, but they were there. There he was all in brushed steel. Large ovoid glass, deep amber colored and a mouth, open, bigger then my fist with fangs the size of my fingers. I looked at him and said to myself "So, this is what has happened to you. You’ve become nothing more than a tourist trap prop."
Now maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm not. But you can't tell. Strange things happen in these hills and maybe he's out there, maybe just waiting, waiting for dark on another cool night to go scare a couple other people. Or maybe he's just here to keep an eye on us. Maybe once Point Pleasant improves, he will go away. I have put together before the conclusion about the mothman existing in multiple places in the world. I took note of the times he was seen and more often that not it was when the weather was cooler. So I started to wonder, maybe he only comes to Point Pleasant during the winter time, like Canadians going to Florida and the rest of the year he lives further north, maybe, somewhere around Toronto or Ottawa, who knows? You can't tell when your dealing with Canadians. Heck, he may even be a Canadian citizen, who just happens to have a small out of the way place in Point Pleasant , West Virginia.
I had a service call in Gallipolis, Ohio; which is right across the river from Point Pleasant, West Virginia. I've done several ramblings about "The Mothman" and Point Pleasant, but I had never actually been there. Well, I had an hour I had to kill for lunch and considering it was less than 5 minutes away I decided "What the hell...”
So I jumped on the highway, went over a bridge, went around a turnabout and came up onto a second bridge. The second bridge is the one that put me into Point Pleasant.
The first thing I noticed, because I have a tendency to watch for the unusual; I don't know, maybe it is part of writing, maybe it's just i like to keep my wits about me, but the first thing I noticed coming across that bridge was a man.
Now, normally seeing a person walking across a bridge is not a major deal, but this person kind of set the tone for my trip into Point Pleasant. Obviously a human. Well, what else would you expect in the middle of the day around lunchtime on a weekday? But there was something odd about him and as I looked at his face I realized that almost half of it hung slack from his skull, as if some sort of birth defect or maybe an injury, maybe that part of my mind that likes to come up with the strange and unusual; a mutation. So I proceeded over that bridge and found myself heading down the main drag. It's part of a Us Highway so it is fairly easy to find. So once heading down that drag I found a McDonalds.
Now I had originally considered just going to some small little cafe in Point Pleasant to sit down and have lunch, but i decided that was not a good idea. I had a hunger for fish. Now normally fish is one of those things I can take or leave; I like it, but I do not go out of my way to find it. Then I thought i would stop and have fish at a local cafe. Well, I remember while driving down the street that we were less than five miles from a nuclear power plant on the downstream side. I thought about it and the more I thought about it the more I understood about that part of me that is there for self-preservation. I decided against the fish. I figured my best bet was a chain fast food place like a McDonalds, because their food would be shipped in from outside the area. Less chance of something strange. I know, I am being overly paranoid, but when dealing with things like this, having read the amount of things i have about dealings with Point Pleasant and The Mothman, I figured going there by myself was enough of a chance; I shouldn't set my self on fire as it were.
I got a couple of fish sandwiches from McDonalds and I pulled into the historic district. I sat the and observed down the street as I stuffed my face with the multiprocessor corporate aquatic life form. Something odd struck me about the town, but I didn't know what it was. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It's not odd as in an "everything was painted in 60's psycodelic colors" or "it's odd because the buildings are all built with a right hand slant and angled windows." No, this was more of the kind of odd you pick up on in an H.P.Lovecraft novel. One of those times your senses are warning you and the hair stands up on the back of your neck kicking in that part of you that tells you "your not in the place you should be..." So I decided that was enough of a motivating factor to get out of the car.
I walked down the main drag of old Point Pleasant; the old historic district, the part of town that would have been there in the 60's when the bridge collapsed and the spotting of Mothman took place. I was overwhelmed by senses one does not usually find while standing one small block away from a major us highway at lunchtime on a week day, that runs through the center of a town between two major cities. Traffic was fairly heavy; yet, being one block away you could hear the sound of the store signs creaking in the wind overhead. The sky itself today was a little strange. It is a bluish purple. This is not that strange for wintertime in the Ohio Valley. What makes it odd is the temperature is 71 degrees, it's January 13th. This is supposed to be winter, the time of cold and snow.
I wasn't really worried about coming across the real Mothman in downtown Point Pleasant. A couple things I felt were on my side:
1: He has never been know to frequent a McDonalds
2: It was broad daylight
From all the descriptions I have ever read he has only been seen at night and from the description of how he looks, it makes sense. He's got large eyes, daylight would probably hurt him. But today is not overly bright, and sometimes, I am not either. So, I decided to take a walk. I walked about a block from the car and went by an old movie theater I saw. Now, I am one of these people who have a love/hate relationship, in a sense, with old movie theaters. I love them because of the films they have shown. the places inside are much more than the sterilized modern 64 screen megaplexes. There is something unique about each one, even when there are 2 on the same city block. but as I walked up to this one I made not of a couple of things. In the marquis where they hang the poster, where you would expect to see the poster for some second run movie. One that had already made the circuit, been on cable and regular TV, and could be leased for $20.00 to show in a theater like this. There wasn't what I expected. There wasn't "Cannonball Run II" or "Matrix Revisited", something that has come and gone everywhere it would make money, now just to be used as a honey to bring flies into some small town theater. No, in these were something a little bit different. They were vintage movie posters from the 1950's, old B movies. Three color posters; outlines; to movies I have heard of, I myself have never seen. It was strange. Inside the ticket booth was a small sign that said "Showing: Mothman 5:00PM". I wasn't going to hang out there till 5pm cause I had to be back.
I started thinking more and more and I noticed that a scent started to assail me. Not one of those scents that you catch on the wind that bypasses you and its gone. This is one of those ones that crawls up your nose lays both of its grimy little hands, hard, nails first into your sinuses. It was a smell of mold and mildew. Its the kind of smell you get when you go into a basement that hasn’t been opened in 50 year, that has been flooded and drained all on its own. Memories and pieces of time gone by, rotting. The whole city had that scent to it; it took a while. I walked about another block past a large number of closed stores. What I found interesting was every store that was closed was actually open, in a different building, a few blocks down. Nothing new, just everyone moved around. Not like they really had anywhere to go, but more the act of moving was important. It was a strange thing to see. I decided I was about to turn around and head back to the car so I would have enough time to get back to my appointment, and there, on a small side street i saw something I never thought I would see in Point Pleasant: The Mothman.
No, not the Mothman of the books or the movie, nor was it something that really should not have been there. It was a statue, someone’s impression; an artist gone wrong with an arc welder and a torch. The eyes were huge, as one would expect, and a mouth with fangs. But I never remember fangs in the descriptions nor do I remember claws, but they were there. There he was all in brushed steel. Large ovoid glass, deep amber colored and a mouth, open, bigger then my fist with fangs the size of my fingers. I looked at him and said to myself "So, this is what has happened to you. You’ve become nothing more than a tourist trap prop."
Now maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm not. But you can't tell. Strange things happen in these hills and maybe he's out there, maybe just waiting, waiting for dark on another cool night to go scare a couple other people. Or maybe he's just here to keep an eye on us. Maybe once Point Pleasant improves, he will go away. I have put together before the conclusion about the mothman existing in multiple places in the world. I took note of the times he was seen and more often that not it was when the weather was cooler. So I started to wonder, maybe he only comes to Point Pleasant during the winter time, like Canadians going to Florida and the rest of the year he lives further north, maybe, somewhere around Toronto or Ottawa, who knows? You can't tell when your dealing with Canadians. Heck, he may even be a Canadian citizen, who just happens to have a small out of the way place in Point Pleasant , West Virginia.
Monday, January 10, 2005
A bigger update
Well, as you can see from the previous post, we have returned to Moosebase Alpha, none the worse for wear. We got back a little tired and a little drug out, but all in all it was not a bad trip.
Things have been slow of late, not in that there has not been a lot to do, but it seems that someone has damed the timestream. Days seem to crawl, till they suddenly burst forward till the pressure is released, they they slow back down. An odd thing perhaps, but only if you notice.
Work has been work, as i think it should be, but the creative side of me has been fairly limted of talte to only painting minitures. Not all that creative I'll grant you, but at least it is something.
I have found that most of my creative writing has been here in my blog, so the story about Sean Flynn has gone stagnant. I hate that, but I will not try to force writing just to write. that is what my blog is for.
I got a new bullwhip thanks to The Fish. He is our local whip-guru. Now, get your mind out of the gutter. He is a whip sportsman, for lack of a better term. Carck addick sounds just wrong cause poeple start thingking drugs, not whips.
Well, I can see I am just rambeling, so i'll let it alone for a while. Like my mom used to say:
If you keep picking at it, it will get infected...
Till next time,
Be mindful and awake...
Things have been slow of late, not in that there has not been a lot to do, but it seems that someone has damed the timestream. Days seem to crawl, till they suddenly burst forward till the pressure is released, they they slow back down. An odd thing perhaps, but only if you notice.
Work has been work, as i think it should be, but the creative side of me has been fairly limted of talte to only painting minitures. Not all that creative I'll grant you, but at least it is something.
I have found that most of my creative writing has been here in my blog, so the story about Sean Flynn has gone stagnant. I hate that, but I will not try to force writing just to write. that is what my blog is for.
I got a new bullwhip thanks to The Fish. He is our local whip-guru. Now, get your mind out of the gutter. He is a whip sportsman, for lack of a better term. Carck addick sounds just wrong cause poeple start thingking drugs, not whips.
Well, I can see I am just rambeling, so i'll let it alone for a while. Like my mom used to say:
If you keep picking at it, it will get infected...
Till next time,
Be mindful and awake...
Trickster, me?
From Tomcat's journal, via The Fish, via Judi, via the Appian Way....
Which Trickster Are You?
Take the Trickster Test at www.isleofdreams.net.
I dunno, does it fit?
Take the Trickster Test at www.isleofdreams.net.
I dunno, does it fit?
Saturday, December 25, 2004
An update from the road
Well, lets hear it for wireless access! I am sitting in a hotel room in Chattanooga, Tn right now, only 2 blocks from the original Chattanooga Choo-choo. Been there, seen that, got minorly impressed.
I do enjoy our trips down south because the way of life here is so different from SE Ohio. For example, yesterday we spend close to 4 hours in the largest mall in all of Tennessee. No big deal right? Well, it was the day before Christmas so everyone and their brother were shopping there for last minute gifts (Like us). Okay, still no big difference right? Wrong, something I noted to Judi was not in that entire time did anyone bump into me. She said she accidentally backed in to someone because she stumbled and they apologized to her. Ah, the refreshing politeness of the South. One of the FEW things I miss. To tell the truth, if I could import the politeness and the food to SE Ohio, I would think there would never be a reason to leave again. Everyone here drives the speed limit, plus an extra 20 mph. So in a 55 zone, most people are doing 75, even the cops, who do not seem to notice. Now in most places like say Cleveland, this would be taking your life in your hands as well as your license. Down here though, everyone in still quite polite, even on the road. Stay to the right if your going slower, signal and then go for it. Everyone will make room for you to change lanes even. Still, to me it is quite odd, but nonetheless enjoyable.
So tomorrow we start the great journey back to the hills of Ohio. The mountains here are nice and big, but there is something that it palatably missing from them. I am not sure what it is, but it is obvious to both Judi and I this is not home. That is where we will be soon enough.
So, next update will most likely be from Moosebase Alpha, baring any more freak storms rolling down from Canada.
I still think they have some sort of secret hidden weather machine up there and test it on us every now and then so they can sell us more road salt.
Till next time,
Be mindful and awake!
Have a happy whatever!!!!
I do enjoy our trips down south because the way of life here is so different from SE Ohio. For example, yesterday we spend close to 4 hours in the largest mall in all of Tennessee. No big deal right? Well, it was the day before Christmas so everyone and their brother were shopping there for last minute gifts (Like us). Okay, still no big difference right? Wrong, something I noted to Judi was not in that entire time did anyone bump into me. She said she accidentally backed in to someone because she stumbled and they apologized to her. Ah, the refreshing politeness of the South. One of the FEW things I miss. To tell the truth, if I could import the politeness and the food to SE Ohio, I would think there would never be a reason to leave again. Everyone here drives the speed limit, plus an extra 20 mph. So in a 55 zone, most people are doing 75, even the cops, who do not seem to notice. Now in most places like say Cleveland, this would be taking your life in your hands as well as your license. Down here though, everyone in still quite polite, even on the road. Stay to the right if your going slower, signal and then go for it. Everyone will make room for you to change lanes even. Still, to me it is quite odd, but nonetheless enjoyable.
So tomorrow we start the great journey back to the hills of Ohio. The mountains here are nice and big, but there is something that it palatably missing from them. I am not sure what it is, but it is obvious to both Judi and I this is not home. That is where we will be soon enough.
So, next update will most likely be from Moosebase Alpha, baring any more freak storms rolling down from Canada.
I still think they have some sort of secret hidden weather machine up there and test it on us every now and then so they can sell us more road salt.
Till next time,
Be mindful and awake!
Have a happy whatever!!!!
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Ni!
You are King Arthur of the Britons! You let no-one
stand in your way, you are brave and strong!
Keep searching, you'll find the grail yet!
Which Monty Python & the Holy Grail Character are you REALLY?
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