Wal Mart in Georgia

Someone at a Wal Mart in Georgia bagged my checking account for $986.67!

A week or so ago, I discovered a big hunk of change was gone from my checking account. I figured it was an automatic debit for car insurance or something. Or maybe something to do with Bush's ruination of our country.

I couldn't look at my account because our puter is a pooter. It's dying a slow desktop death.

This evening I got into my account history and discovered I had made a really huge purchase in Georgia. $986.67! At a Wal Mart, no less. That's a lot of cheap Chinese junk!

Enjoy, Motherfucker!!!

Uke Cyrkle, and Religulous

Uke circle was mellow today. Eleven pluckers showed. We played a bunch of spooky songs like the Monster Mash, The Munster's Theme and that old love song Spooky. All because of Halloween.

P. Scar and Trey showed. I hope they make a habit of it. Chuckster came for awhile and did some monster singing. He is a blind black blues shouter in a bald headed honky suit. Superb.

Anna brought in another old timey song about "washin' hands in the muddy waters" that she got from Elvis. She knows how to pick them.

Nuff sang his song about Ma Nature being pissed and Doni sang her bawdy health science song.

And Terry knocked out some solo stuff to inspire us chord monkeys.

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Nuff, Doni and I saw Religulous last night. It was pretty good. I especially liked the Vatican's Astronomer and the Catholic priest.

I had a mighty loathing for the Jews for Jesus guy and the Your Not Born Gay Minister who had renounced his gayness and hugged Bill Maher. And an especially special loathing for the guy who plays Jesus at Jesus Land, whatever and wherever that is, and the back up singer from Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes turned monied minister.

I am not sure there is any hope for mankind when beliefs like the ones Maher explored have become so routine.

And that is the problem: radical narrow minded religious dogma based in fear and ignorance has become mainstream.

And it's all about money, after all, isn't it?

Billy's Dream #4ish

We were at the John Bull, that old pub that was demolished some 25 years ago over in the Arcade. I don't know who "we" were. One of them was me, but the rest were nondescript peeps of varying ethnicities, genders and ages.

We all sat on these king-size pillow looking things like the caterpillar in Alice and Wonderland. We all had gold and silver hookahs. I sat beneath the portrait of Prince Phillip. There was no sound save for Al Jolson singing "California Here I Come" from the jukebox across the room and the Santa Ana winds blowing outside.

I went outside and it was daylight and very starkly bright and colored in light pastel blues and sandstone colors. The wind was fierce and there was white smoke roiling off the roof of the Sire Bar down the street. No fire, just smoke.

There were no cars, no people anywhere to be seen.

And then I woke up, walked into the kitchen and ate a Poptart.

I was sorta hoping the Ray Bradbury would come running out of the Sire.

Treadmill

Tonight I set up my garage sale treadmill in the barn and it was Mississippi hot in there. So I walked 6 miles naked on the danged thing, sweatin' like a Nixon.

I don't think I will ever wear clothes on that danged thing.

Until it gets cold, anyway.

Miss Stitt

Miss Stitt taught me to read at Victoria Elementary School. She was my first grade teacher and today I saw today in the obits that she died at the age of 93.

She had been married to the same guy for 60 some years and was a member of the Victoria Club, a Country Club here in Rio Nada and that she was an excellent tennis player. The obit listed all the adventures and jobs she had had in her life.

But none of them could compare to my first grade class, I'm sure.

Leon, Phillip and me must have had her near to crazy. And Ricky Franke and Mike McNeill, too. We weren't bad. We were just first graders. Although a few of the aforementioned are now in the Big House

It's not Mike, tho. He drives a a steam driven train somewhere in Washington.

Famous opera singer Patricia Schuman was in that class. She lived in the neighborhood. I hope Miss Stitt knew how successful Patsy became in the opera world.

Funny. I was thinking of writing a letter to the editor of our local stooopid stooopid newspaper about the proposal that teachers carry guns. I was going to say how strange it would have been to have seen Miss Stitt with a gun.

I don't think she would ever, ever carry a gun.

I can very clearly remember Miss Stitt teaching me to read the word "Look" from the Dick and Jane Big Book. As if it were yesterday. She used these hand gestures and mouthed the word over and over until our little brain light bulbs lit up.

"Look!" we chirped.

I wish I could tell her that I buy and read books all the time and that my kids do too and that we love the magic and wonder that reading brings to us.

Miss Stitt was the beginning of many glorious and amazing adventures!

"Look!"