not New Year yet, but feelin grateful anyway

The sun is fractionally higher in the sky, there was an actual warm patch of sunlight the dog found to catch some rays in the backyard this morning.  Had a good Xmas with my gal, quiet but comfy. Good eats, perfect turkey, ate too much. Happy to exchange some seasonal type emails with good buds I've had for almost all my life. I like my dog, he is awesome.  My son is going through a rough period, but 18 isnt an easy age.  Life is good, feels quite satisfactory at the moment.
2012, bring it on, you Mayan bitches..

commerce and good vibes in the big shitty, the nice end

Just got back from a trip up to Beer Store Corner, as I call it, Whyte n 112.  They had a sweet deal on turkeys at the Sobeys, but there was a sign which I didnt see , a caveat that you had to buy 35 bucks worth of groceries to get the turkeys at 97 cents/lb. 
(we are supposed to be centigrade, or by the Kg, but we function in both, up here in the Great White North).
Got into a little wrangle with the Asian gal at the till, she of the culture that loves discounts and haggling, she had to call a manager.  All I bought was some frozen french fries, a 2 litre chocolate soy milk for my gal, and a 9 lb. turkey.  Less than 35 bones.  The large and previously bitch-face manager came up, had to call head office, ended up giving it to me at advertised price. Score! Had nice convo with clerk-san in the meantime.
Then around the corner to BrownGuysLiquorInc.  The guy who works Sunday is a biz major, I think, the other guys are mostly IT.  I bought my usual Sunday 12 of Brewhouse and tall Beck's. Got into a convo with buddy, he offered me a free tall can of Original 16, made by Great Western Grain, also.
 I shared a tale with him:  this brewery was created by workers who used to work for one of the big 3 Canadian breweries in Saskatoon, which wanted to close the plant. They pooled their pension funds, kicked in some dough and bought the plant. Now runs as Great Western Grain, makes Brewhouse, a few other brews, all not bad, drinkable and cheap, and apparently they are trying to tap the higher-end market with Original 16. I will tell you how it is after its chilled.

I tried to tap buddy for a free beer glass too, but he held firm. He is a good marketer, but not a sucka. Peace.

trying to get some hits.. Lindsay Lohan, Ki,m and Kourtney, Heroin, God, Christmas

what?

My girl is sad. she went walkin. she should take her dang vitamins. Its just the season.
and her stupid ass job, they should double her pay and fire the crazy douche who tires her out.

but I got some hits on my blog.

Yay.

BUY SOCKS FoR PO' FOLKS: more nattering on about life on low dough, my dog, stuff..

Its a nice day by seasonal standards at 54 N. latitude, provided you are wearing longjohns, good boots and mitts. I like winter; tried living on Vancouver Island for a few years, I find rain is gloomy and makes my bones ache and gives me colds and flu. It's minus 8 Celsius, no wind, and less than a week from the shortest day of the year. That will be about 7 hours of daylight from sunrise to set, then it starts creeping back up.
My dog is pretty much deaf. He likes to announce his mighty presence with a few barks, but he cant really hear himself, so often they come out as feeble 'Yoop, Yerp' barks. I wonder if he ever made fun of old dogs who were too deaf to hear themselves. He's on the flipside of that now. He can see reasonably well, but I detect the sheen of cataracts forming, and his nose works as well as ever, if his ability to detect meat products, especially bacon or ham, is any indication.
I have taken on a small part time job to supplement my EI this winter layoff, but they shorted me a week today, I am sure its an accident. I was punching 2 timecards for small hours on 2 diff projects, I think payroll missed one.  Nevertheless, I was looking forward to paying more bills with the additional 100 dollar bounty.  Times are tight in the ol homestead, even though my gal's only luxuries are a daily Coke and a monthly pedi, and mine is cheap beer. Quit smoking after 40 years as a daily puffer, almost 9 weeks clean, so at least I'm not purchasing cancer of the lungs as a luxury any more.  My liver gets a bit angry with me when I exceed my beer ration, but I take lecithin from time to time, helps flush it out.

Got a big ol ham on sale last week, cooked it yesterday to perfection, and looking forward to making pea soup with the bone when the meat is all sliced off, then after the bone has simmered for a couple days, the dog gets it. Nothing wasted.

Not buying Xmas gifts directly, but will be purchasing packs of cheap socks in bundles of 5 or 6 pairs and sending them to shelters.  People often buy obligatory presents, little 10 dollar doodads, for people who dont need or want them. I will be buying for people who do need socks, and feeling less foolish and hypocritical as a result.
Many of my Feckbook friends are concerned eco-folks, and I salute their concerns, but it gets a bit silly at times.  I care more about drunk or crazy  humans freezing to death than neurotic monkeys in the Philippines committing suicide due to the stress of tourism. I suspect there are too many monkeys,  and there may be a few going nuts.

The greatest problems this ol planet faces are  still overconsumption in the First world, and overpopulation in the Third. If you have to buy anything, buy used, buy local, buy something that will last and not need replacing.  Alternate choice to socks for poor and crazy folks would be mosquito nets for the tropics.

Happy Solstice next week, stop by for pea soup.

well, sir, here's the tale...

Sometimes I feel out of time and place. I have a Texan bud on FB who I knew on Myspace, before the rats ate that place down, we both are big on Gus McCrae from Lonesome Dove. I used to dream of being a cowboy when I was a nipper, and I dont mind the big open spaces at all. I also tend to be a polite feller, like callin girls 'darlin' n 'sugar', Southern gentleman airs.  Maybe was one in a previous life, but believing too much superstitious hooey leads to a strange place, not indistinguishable from folks who believe strange religious crapola,  invented by crafty humans to baffle others. I am pragmatic but open-minded.  I believe I just dont know, as my friend Lou from NYC used to say.
However. The current reality is a good place, beseiged by debts, but pretty comfy in the heart.  The ol dog's hips are goin, makes his arsehole wider as the hip dysplasia progresses, so I have to be aware his poop just pops out sometimes.  Elder care of my loved ol dog.
My gal is great, she is slogging it out in a stupid job with many rude customers, and management isnt even paying her what they promised at hire, 3 1/2 months ago, I would hate to work retail.
We get along great, overly smart hermit types, and times will be better.  Thanks for understanding, the sun will start coming back after December 22.

Sushi and a focking Brownie

My gal went out to get her feet sanded, polished and painted, and for some reason the place was closed (on a Tuesday, mid afternoon?).
But she did some creative shopping and walking, and came home with foot-sanding pads, some polish, and a 7 dolla pack of Save-On -Foods sushi, and a dessert.

 Feet not sanded and spoiled, but not coming home empty handed.  

'Sushi and a focking Brownie'

reflections on life, the 'hood, the belly

Beautiful late September Saturday afternoon: 75 F., 24 C., sunny with the odd wispy cloud wisping around up there. Just returned from a trip up to 'beer store corner', whyte and 112 st., a nice half mile walk each way. There's grocery store, bank, good coffee, beer store and assortment of fast food, optometrist, ballet, tanning.. very girl-friendly and with the beer and the meat and the girls, guy-friendly also. Big hospital and physio faculty across the street.
On my way up (walking north I consider 'up') saw a pair who very much demonstrated that sometimes people and their dogs resemble greatly.  Strong and zaftig (curvy) brunette, really nice brown hair reflecting light, walking strong and zaftig lady Rottweiler. The Rotty was giving me big smiles, the girl had shades on, but also smiling.
(brief work interlude: I work with thousands of repeat customers, and call them to keep em happy and sell em stuff. Today I had 3 names in a row that made me feel like I had stumbled into the gay porn section-  Manhard, Ramsbottom, Cockburn.. You find stupid things to amuse you at work sometimes.)
Good stewing beef at the store, looks like a nice cut, not blade or some crap cut, but still am marinating it for a mighty mighty stew with home-grown veg later. My sis in law grew them, and dropped some off for our consumption. My marinade of the day is soy sauce, garlic, dill, lots of coarse black pepper, and Bullseye hot n spicy bbq sauce. The gal is working weekends, I only do a half-day Saturday, so have taken on the evening feeding on Sat and Sun.

Have a great weekend.  I have a 710 ml Beck's freezerizing for an hour, then I shall consume it when it is just shy of turning to Beck's slurpee.

the Time Machine, AKA oh me oh my oh

Was chattin with my nephew last night, he's a good feller. Wants to win at everything, and generally does, Scorpio hockey star engineering student. We had some good bonding time when he was 4, he was right into this cartoon with cows as cowboys, Dakota was one, anybody ringin a bell on this?  Anyway, I was mindin him, we went out to the pasture at his folks', gathered dry wood and put stones down for a pit, then cooked 2 cans of beans in the hot embers. Fortunately I brought an extra can cuz young Will (aptly named) wanted more.  Cowboy beans. He still eats a fair bit o beans, good low-fat protein, but he aint livin with his g-f yet. Fart factor.
So, in our convo he mentioned a time machine. I would so go back to the pre-Reagan era, 72-79.  And welcome him to come back and check it out. Watch Nixon fall on the news, or not even have a frickin TV. Cheap smokes, beer, gas, weed, decent workin -joe wages, thanks to the work people did in the 60s, and about half the people on the planet there are now. I dont hate people, nor races or creeds, but its gettin crowded on this ball , and i miss the critters. Hunting mammoth, wackin a few passenger pigeons for a pie...
My point? i think its under my hair, ha, not really , I have kind a sean connnery dome but more hair on it. Oh yeah, listened to this tune 5 times today. Its a gooder. Relative to time machine? should also post a young Bonnie Raitt doin Angel from Montogmery, I fell in love with her about 10 times.
Let's all go back to 72 and do it over. Give Jimmy Carter 3 terms, not the fucking Bush Nazi-trading dynasty. Diagnose Reagan's dementia early, put a hit out on Saddam. Solve it, not react to it.
Here's some Gillian , dont have any Bonnie handy.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9NPEj63d0jY&list=FLrVCpBvAxSloKv0qce9jGNQ&index=69

young Innu hunter in the big shitty

At the bus stop coming home from the work today, a young Innu/Chipewayan looking guy came up and asked if the bus was free. This is in a city of about a million people. Innu are the northern folks that used to be called Eskimos. Chipewayan are a northern group of people that used to be called Indians.  Just for geographic context, I live in Edmonton, lat. 54 N., used to be called Gateway to the North.
So, young buddy was informed he needed 2.85 to take the bus to West Ed Mall. He ran across a busy street like a fkn ninja. He also had eyes that looked like they could see for miles, watching for game. I definitely dont mean a game on Feckbook, I mean like seeing if a herd of caribou was coming, or if some other edible beast was coming within rifle range.  First trip to the city for young dude, but 99.9% of the people in that city couldnt do what he does.
Run soft, move silent, see everything.

Then the bus came. Initially, there were 4 of us at the bus stop, 5 more showed up, it was packed to begin with. Wheelchair, 3 baby strollers, 15 different ethnic groups. I could see northern buddy shrinking into the background, but he got his transfer and I am sure he got where he was headed.
I like lots of space, too.  I am down with the northern folk but a little too much dark in the winter. What is to be envied is the old attention to the natural world that those glued to their phones have lost so quickly.  Where is east or west? many could not answer without a map. To run like a wolf, see like a hawk, be self sufficient and part of your world : completely incomprehensible hippy-dippy concepts to most phone-drones.

Migwetch, young hunter. Soyez bien.

eking it out

No, that doesnt mean that I saw a mouse and jumped up on a chair (eek!), it means that I eke it out from payday to payday and bill to bill this summer.
I dont know where the word 'eke' comes from, looks kind of Greek (it is Greek to eke?). My workplace changed the bonus structure which used to give me some nice paydays when things are going well. Now, its pretty much always just hourly wage and maybe a little gravy, but nothing great. The corporate overlords hired some guy to 'increase profitability', translation: Raise prices, lower wages, customers pay more, the highest honchos make more, and the workers make less. I like where I work for the most part, but losing 10% of income after 3 years of being the best guy in my job makes me feel like I need surgery to get the corporate shoe out of my rectum.
I had some hopes to get paid for helping a buddy with a company to become more profitable too, in that case, just by getting more business and organizing the details so it got done and more money was coming in. However, his lack of organization, which is the prime reason he needs a focused sales/admin guy like me, resulted in my not getting paid after numerous hours of work and some cash invested on my part.
Hence, just paid rent in full 3 weeks late, behind in payments to bank and utilities, unable to repay a personal loan or have anything left over for 'fun stuff'.
  EKE!

On personal, positive side, my live-in gal is great to get along with, and she has found a decent job after 2 months of hard job search, meanwhile keeping the house, laundry etc. in much better shape and earning the total adulation of my aging dog (whose unpredictable sphincter we need not discuss).  Its a change for me to have somebody around all the time, but we both like to do our own stuff on the computers, read, watch tube, etc.  so we dont cling or get in each others way.  We even sleep together without grouchiness when its stinky hot up in our bedroom. Once 2 paycheques are coming in, the eking will be easier to eke.

karma, summer, likin the hood

Yesterday I went up to the beer store run by friendly brown guys on Whyte ave.and was quite happy with my neighborhood.  Cute chicks from the Uni or the hospital, mix of owners and renters, funky mix of academics and workin folks. I bought my gal an apple danish at the Koreans' (what I call the little local non-franchise convenience store run by, you guessed it, a Korean couple) and got a coffee for the walk. Some smiley people out walking dogs, others walkin n talkin, beautiful summer day. On the way back, I found a transit ticket which can be re-used, and passed a few more smiley people,  one a cute Caribbean black gal with a big dog. The dog gave me a big smile, the girl smelled like bananas, coffee, coconut and girl, in a very good way. I dont slip around if I am in a relationship, but I definitely look and appreciate women, which my gal is cool with. Mostly.
I like my hood, its really nice, and all the rain this year makes the trees n shrubs thick and lush. Its also a big mosquito year, but they dont eat me, cuz I repel them with brain waves.
Life is good, and I have a big cold Beck's and food in the fridge.

tales from milltown Alberta

A younger gal at work told a couple tales which are distinct to a certain type of life or area of the world.  Just for context, she is a short but tasty girl, early 20s but mature for her age, and in a relationship which will probably be longterm.
She grew up in a forestry/pulp mill town in the Rockies. Her dad worked in the local economy, at the mill or cutting trees or hauling. But he also had a little room in the house where he grew a different cash crop. She was given an assignment in Grade 3 to draw a floorplan of her house. She was quite accurate with most of it, here is the kitchen table, here is the couch n TV in the living room, etc., but she also included the room she wasnt allowed to go in, blacked out and labelled 'Secret Room'.  I think there might have been some raised eyebrows at the school.
She also told about being out with her dad for a walk across a frozen lake at age 4, wearing a brimmed red hat she liked, just out for a stroll on a warm spring day with the dog. The lake still had two feet of ice, but the odd soft patch. They are truckin along, her dad hears a 'sploosh', thinks its the dog jumping in puddles, then looks around and sees girl's hat floating on a puddle of icy water, but no girl in sight.  Dad jumps in, fishes her out, she said that her response was "I didnt even cry. I just said 'my boots are wet'." Hardcore of her, and she is feisty smart little filly.

People from places without lakes that freeze over 3 feet thick, strong enough for regular 'ice roads' upon which semi-trailers drive for 5 months/year, might have a hard time comprehending that tale. But I think she has a a great dad, and she shows the guts he taught her to have.  And she is damn cute and smart too, and her guy better consider himself lucky and treat her right.

me old Nana

Amy Shippen was from Yorkshire, trained as a milliner by age 10, her da (my great gramps) was a master stonemason, who did the stone facing on at least 2 provincial legislatures (manitoba n sask) as well as the still cool-looking Hudson Bay bldg. in Winterpeg. Anyway Amy came over to Canada after her da had a steady livin, and she married my rounder gramps Jack, who was a hard drinkin Scot who put in a whole lot of telephone poles n wired em, with a horse, a come-along, and a lot of sweat.
The tale: Nana (Amy) was staying at our house, 1975, had just seen some news item about dangerous bikers, and who pulls into the driveway but my fave cuz Art, on a 250 Hodaka with a straight pipe. Loud as fuck. She ran around the house pulling curtains and locking doors. He was 20, had a chick on the back, just back from a party weekend looking for my brother. Or maybe girlfriend just needed to pee.
I respect my ancestors, I still have a few floatin around to advise me, but I understand being afraid of grizzlies eatin your stock more than some kid on a noisy bike.
She always was big on manners, Nana, I think I learned a few from her. And I like a nice hat.

message to my Texan bud who moved to the east coast

My dog kicks ass, even more so with a gal in my bed.

Good day, sir.

Got my gal from Winnipeg moved in, all going well. Nice to come home to more organization than the bachelor squalor that was me and my son for past couple yrs. He is back at his ma's, so he doesnt have a dope clubhouse in my house anymore, but hope he remembers that time fondly when he is old enough to not resent me for ending it. Just turned 18, turned from good metal to hip-hop. Sigh.
Was just out in the yard with my gracefully aging dog, it was a good time. Worth two beers and 3 smokes, and he liked it too, got a brushout with a fine rain falling, so it was probably like a day at the spa for him. He didnt want to come in until I did, even when it started pouring. I had a raincoat, he did not.
One thing about cellphone updates is they lack detail. If you feel like tellin some tales of your current life, I got an ear.
And if you can ever sneak across the border ( I recommend North Dakota, we got Burning Spear across once to play a gig) come on out for a look at the Canadian West. Foldout futon couch in the spare room.

all the best, pardner. Gus McRae aint just a character in a book, he is a philosophy

Gord

p.s. Didja make it to Bonnaroo?

Thats What You Get

Back in the late 80s , early 90s, I was spending a lot of time in bars.  Good times, bad times, you know I saw my share (cue the Jimmy Page), but many good memories, many gals I took home for a night, and I apologize if I forgot their names. I remember my Teutonic redhead (ouch) and a few others. But other than the after-bar pleasures, there were many good nights. And glimpses of places I dont want to be or go.
Par example, I was standing in the lobby of the Commie (Whyte Ave biker blues bar, with rooms above) waitin for a cab with my off-sales  and some stumbling drunk skinny kid was lippin off at the 'clerk' who was a strong warrior -lookin Bosnian cat. He leaped over the counter, dragged skinny boy out on the sidewalk, and gave him a good boot-fuckin. Then spat, and said, 'thats what you get'.  I said 'Hey, hows it goin' to some other barfly folks while this was going on virtually under our noses,  they replied, 'oh good, just off to buddy's place' then I got in my cab and went on.

Another night, me n Sam and Lightfingers Larry went out behind the Strath to smoke one; there happened to be a ladder up to the roof of a neighboring building, under reconstruction. We figgered, what the hey, lets smoke it up there. Went up the ladder, then along come some frat boys yellin up at us 'hey what are you guys doin up there', which we answered with a hail of snowballs. Turned into a good little snowball battle, with us having the upper hand, but of course the Po-leece showed up, just beat cops. We found a hatch on the roof and dropped into total darkness, the windows of the reno being boarded up. Three blind mice (coyotes) found another hatch to the main floor, then kicked out the plywood over the front windows, kicked it back into place and went for a walk till the cops were gone, then resumed our pool games in the bar.  Good times.

I am not that excited about the 21st century, but I have earned some middle aged grouchiness, and find these kids with their constant cellphones etc, to be trivial in many ways. Not my kid, I hasten to add. I think he will find his gravitas and earn his grouchiness, and he will be 18 this week.  I am happy about my life and developments in it, and I am having a good time.

Have some adventures, find a good woman who is as smart as you and has similar interests/priorities, even if it takes a few decades.  But take some chances. Have some times.

Happy 18, Ed.  Success in all things, and write it down.

Don't Look Down

Trees drippin, clouds sailing, dog sleepin. I like my back yard, but more with all the leaves out and soughing in the wind. I think you pronounce that suffing, but that English is one crazy language. Some say 'sowing', maybe better to avoid the word altogether.  The word 'slough' comes to mind, pronounced 'sloo', meaning a small lake or pond, usually occurring in glacial rebound topography, but in Scotland they might call it a tarn or e'en a loch.  Maybe all words ending in 'ough' should be outlawed, or we will end up in camps warring with pens. No, wait, this is the 21st century, nobody gies a guid shite aboot pens. Its all aboot the fiddly bits of buttons folks all carry these days. Moving on. Ough, I say that as UFF ! Unless its a wee tarn, ye ken.
I feel this to be a momentous time. And I got some bloody sleep last night, so I wont get much tonight. I have learned much, forgotten much, but still have enough left to be looking forward to the next 20 yrs. The outdoor couch is wet with rain, or I would be out on it, lookin up at the clouds and not thinking, instead of trying to get some thoughts doon.  Err, right, momentous time.

Dinna let the bastarrds grrind ye doon.

Here's a wee choon from Igster from Deetroyit. The lyrics are sometimes right, but they were dubbed by someone who doesnt speka da anglish too good, or they were doin some of Iggy's dope. Chyron, do they still say that? Its a little planet or moon, I think, but was also a term for adding text to video.

Here's Iggy:  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgkvUfpkRT8

big sky country

Smokestack lightnin,  where the buffalo roam, losin lately gamblin..  Its a good life, oot here in a big city, but living like the house is a cabin. My basement tenant informed me he had one pair o boots (I have seen them, they are just about done) so I offered a pair of semi-worn Converse hightops my kid left.  My dog is getting a bit deaf (EH??) so I squirted some vegetable oil in his ears, then in my own, out of solidarity.  Got some scarlet runner beans growing inside, and planted outside.
My dog is awesome, if I spend the next 5 years helping him live longer (he just turned 13) I will think it time well spent. He doesnt even want to come inside, he is so hard core, so its not like he is an attention suck. (Yeah man, my hips hurt all the time and my shits come when they do ,but dont worry about it- he says).  Fuckin trooper, I dont mind takin care of the old boy.
Oh yeah, and my fine girl is movin in couple weeks, will do my best to be a good man for her, but I feel so calm about it, I know its going to be good.
 Takin no lip, got a couple decades left, and I aint gonna spend em apologizin.

This is Big Sky Country.

dog-gone fence, Jaysus on a boike

A buddy gave me a ride from work, even stopped at the beer store, got an official receipt for the painting he had done in my house I can submit with rent, all good. Then came in back yard, no Walter, and back fence is flat on the ground... It had been saggin in for a while, but didnt do preventive mntce. Posted lost pet report on Petlynx.net, thats what you do. Then went out, called him a few times, and proceeded to fix the fence. Out there pounding nails into struts to hold it up, along comes this pleasant bottle picker on a bike, with a skimpy haul in his bag. 'Hey is that your German Shepherd?' Halfway down the alley, maybe 6 houses down comes Walter, strolling along sniffing things, nonchalant. Welcomed him home, instructed him to Stay HOME, but could hardly blame him, with the fence down. Rounded up bottle buddy about 30 cans , which pleased him. He informed me he doesnt drink, this was for housing, so I guess he is in a single men's shelter or something. Nice guy, said he would keep an eye out for Walter in future and bring him home if reqd.

So, stress, resolution, now time to relax..   Empty some more cans for buddy on the bike.

note: ' Jaysus on a boike! ' is an east coast Canadian expression. But seemed apropos for my new buddy, finder of dogs, if not souls.

sickness, work, sick at work, = infecting half the staff

Had a nasty sore throat fever thing, cough cough cough, on Mon., Tuesday, and still in fact have it. Due to being ina job where I talk a lot on the phone, going in for Wed-Thurs slowed the recovery and probably gave it to half my co-workers.
No paid sick days, had to get a doctor's note to prove I wasnt lying about my 103 fever and searing throat pain. Even though I had already sacrified 2 days pay. Have to please the corporate overlords. Workers cannot be trusted and are all replaceable.
I accomplished more in 2 days being sick on the job than any of my coworkers did in four, being allegedly well,and was a bit of a Typhoid Harry as well, I'm sure. By next week, the groaning and coughing will be a symphony.
Thank goodness for a stat day today. Sorry about the nails JC, if that really happened.  I appreciate the extra sleep and not having to go out in the world, whatever the reason.

(grumbles, coughs and sniffs off...)

accidental haiku by my gal

(from a IM chat, she was feeling down about crappy Winnipeg weather, and return of snow after it all melted)

thin dusting of nasty snow
on the pavement of the parking lot
across the street

increasing stoked-ness

Moving forward along a good road, this is going to be a wicked awesome year.  Making some moves physically, emotionally, economically, responsibly.  Taking it on, adding some in, sharing, building. Even my fine dog is happy about it. And it has yet to fully occur, but the pieces, the people, the season are all falling into place.
The worst that can possibly happen isnt even that bad, still make the same money, other than meteorites falling and nailing me dead on. Like the huge ass 100 lb. ice dams that fell 12 feet when the eavestrough on the cracked old rental house we live in failed last week, but did not, thank dog, nail my dog. Got good guys lined up to fix it, so that wont happen again.
Many good people waiting for spring to get goin on stuff and make some good coin, doin honest labor, and it only gets better. And my good gal comin across the prairies to share in it all. And to help make it happen.  51 may seem might farking old to those who havent even crossed the 45 line yet, but its all about attitude, along with the usual diet/exercise/feistiness equation.
My old bud Winnie said " Success depends on enthusiasm between failures ". He also said " If you are walking through Hell, keep walking."
I am embarking on a few ventures, one with a super hard workin younger dude, who needs an able sales/admin. guy, the other with 2 others born in '59 and a hippy cowboy a little older.
Know any nice little old ladies (lol's) who live in T6G who need their lawns made beeautiful? Send em my way.

The Mayans just ran out of room on their big rock for 2012; for me, it's more a beginning than an end.  Till they shut out the big light, its all beginnings for me. I think my life expectancy went up about 10 years lately.

Dog willin, and the creek dont rise.

defeat Harpo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AAbisg02JD4

that almost spring thing

We had the largest snowfall in 35 years this winter in Edmonton, seriously huge piles of it. And didnt have a midwinter thaw that melted it, or if we did , it was followed by another dump of a foot. Last year at this time, there was hardly any left, and by mid-April we were at the dirty brown grass stage. It finally started to melt this week, and about a million of us in the area are crossing their fingers and touching wood this shit get gone soon.
I like winter, I moved back from Vancouver Isl. cuz I prefer a sunny snowy day to 6 months of drizzle and 6 C. (45 F.). Well yeah, there were other reasons, but I am not a water logged guy, I would prefer to wear longjohns than a rainjacket.
This winter has been long and SNOWY.  And it has started to melt this week, with a few days above +8 C. and promises from the weather office of +10 soon. Things that are good about this climate? It rarely is humid, no low-sky choking sweaty  too-hot-to-sleep-without AC shit. Also a nice long fall most years, pleasant jacket weather even after the leaves fall.
Lots of other factors in play this year, RE the spring thing. Very interesting woman coming out to stay, been feeling like a thoroughbred pulling a plow at work after 3 years excelling in the same job, with less remuneration.  Takin some plunges. And feeling good about it.

'There is a tide in the affairs of men
which taken at the flood
lead on to fortune'

This is one of those times. 

Now if the doggone snow would melt, and get back to grass n leaves n all that good stuff.

empty house pluses and minuses

I have gone from an overly full house to an almost empty house in March. In the winter, I had 2 bums on daily weed and unemployment cheques living in the basement, tripling the utility bills and being consistently weeks late with rent. Kicked their asses out, finally. I also had my almost-18 son on the main floor, in his 2-room domain. I liked having him here, but not his daily troops of potheads stinking up the place and leaving the back door flapping open in -20 temps.
I used to like the herb at 16-25 I admit, but I would certainly never have felt entitled to treat my parents' house as a dope squat. See yr buds (both kinds) on weekends,  thats plenty.
He is back at his mom's now, likely getting spoiled, but also having a little more structure and a cleaner bathroom. She will motivate him to get work and do homework, which is good.
The whole house up n down has been just for me and my gracefully aging dog for a couple weeks.
I had a couple buds come to visit for overnight beer n poker sessions, and managed to find a good steady renter for the basement suite. He paid for March, but hasnt moved in yet. Nice guy, steady, works hard by day, plays online games by night.
And not a doper or even a frequent drinker. Doesnt mind fixing stuff, potentially the best tenant since the awesome mountain girl who was living there for 2 years.
Have been enjoying the quiet, but its nice to have somebody you can call to let the dog in or out, or have a backyard beer with.
And the future looks very good, my cosmically compatible girl from the 'Peg is moving out in May and we will get much farther pulling together than we have been doing apart.
Bring on the spring!

ripped garbage bags on snow

Magpie ripped, the garbage bags
like corpses strewn on the snow
black and white

Daves of My Life

I dont know why Dave was such a popular name in the 50s,  but I sure have known a shitload of Daves in my life.  Back in my yoot, guys had fewer names, there were always a bunch of Ricks, Robs, and Daves. 
I used to know so many Daves I had to give them all nicknames to keep them straight in my head.  Western Dave, Northern Dave, Teacher Dave, Crazy Dave, Cousin Dave, Other Cousin Dave, there were more. My bud lately of Toontown who was over for a visit, I tend to think of him by last name, like we did in grade 7 trying to be tough guys.
Western Dave I have lost track of, Northern Dave (used to be a miner in the Yukon) is a stay-home dad who plays weddings with his band on weekends. Teacher Dave had his liver n innards go seriously wrong a couple years ago, but you can find him on English Bay in his motorized wheelchair with a chess board and wanting to play for money. Crazy Dave wasnt that crazy when I gave him the tag, now re-acquainted after 15 yrs as Rickshaw Dave, hauls drunks around with his arms n legs in summer for a fee. Cousin Dave is fightin a losing battle with MS, peace buddy. Other Cousin Dave was in Rossland BC with a nice 67 Firebird, last I heard.
These are the Daves... the Daves of my life.

anudder brudder

Dave, lets call him was out west for a visit last weekend. We both grew up on the north edge of Winterpeg, known each other since we were 5. Which was distant time past with 2 or 3 television channels. KCND if you were lucky.
Oh yeah, Dave. Brilliant man, middle aged grouch, no wonder we get along.
however... he just got a year's pay as severance. Paid off the cards and the vehickle.
He has a ton of startup ideas, wish the man luck. And his kid with the paper route.

You Know You Know

dig it

Tony Baloney and the non-grad Grad Party

Went to 2 different high schools in nortend Winnipeg, Garden City and West Kildonan ;  technically, neither of them are in the Nortend (Wpg. is divided pretty sharply into hoods, or was in my day) but they were on the north  side of the city, as it was in the 70s.  I could have graduated high school at 16, due to skipping grade 2, but I flunked 300 math as a result of missing a month with double viral pneumonia which just about killed me at 16.
Anyway, I mostly had friends from way back that I stuck with, but I made a few new ones at high school, and one of these was Tony Baloney, an Italian guy I knew at Garden City.  We hung a few times after I went to West K, different school 15 block away, we went to Supertramp at the Playhouse in '76 (possibly on acid), and we would run into each other around.
So after going back to finish 300 Math, plus an option I didnt need, but whatever, if you are at school you might as well learn stuff, I ran into Tony in April, after I had finished all my credits hence, had graduated.  It was unseasonably warm, like 24 C. (75 F.) and his parents were away. So we got a 40 pounder of Southern Comfort, Tony's favorite tipple, and adjourned to his back yard.
We had the speakers from the house stereo out on the patio, we were in reclining lawn chairs, and his passion was the Allman Brothers Live at Fillmore East, so we listened to that all day, 4 sides, then repeat.  On vinyl of course, but it was one of those turntables that after it finished, it would go back and start again. So we might have heard 16 sides over the afternoon.
We were drinkin the Southern with apple juice on ice in tall glasses.  Kinda sweet but had some vitamin C. Eventually we both passed out and woke up with a spring sunburn.
Didnt see Tone for a few years, next time I did,  he had lost his football players build, and much of his hair, was workin for the feds and bitchin about office politics. How soon youth fades for some.

But we had us some times. Salut, commendatore.

Leisure Suit Larry and the 50 year old Scotch

From 89-95, I was a Whyte Avenue bar regular, mostly the Strathcona and the Commercial, or the Strath and the Commie in the parlance. I met some great people there, still have good friends from the period, but also met some rather 'colorful characters'. One of these was Leisure Suit Larry, AKA Lightfingers Larry. He was a thief.  He always dressed nice, so he could steal lots and not be suspected.  The store dick isnt going to worry about the guy in the 1000 dollar suit.  But the store dick didnt know Larry got that suit, along with half a warehouse of other clothes, in his only big score.  He wasnt my friend as much as one of my bar/pool buds, Sam.  Sam had a bit of a checkered past, bouncer at a shitty bar, earned his dough selling hash/weed from about age 14-26, then  got his poop in a group eventually,  is now a good teacher working in Asia.
He and I were roomies from 95-98, after my bar phase had petered out, but the occasional character would still drop by the pad. Christmas, 1995, Larry called, said he was coming over with a present.  We were just chillin with a few beers and the cribbage board, movie on the TV.
Larry arrives, whips out a bottle of Mortlach Scotch Whisky, casked in 1945.  At this time, there was a high-end liquor store on Whyte Ave, fancy shmancy, but shite security. With an 1100 dollar bottle of 50 year old Scotch within reach.
Larry mixed Pepsi in his, Sam and I were like 'NOOOOOOOO' and practically stole the rest of the bottle (no honor among thieves)  and drank ours neat from some nice big square Luigi Bormoli glasses I had bought for a photo shoot.  It was like liquid smoke, little hint of the peat bogs, old tarry rope, and a whiff of the sea on the wind.
We kept the bottle for a while, but when we parted company in 98, him to go to Korea to teach English, me to Manitoba to live in the bush, it went away.
Mortlach 1945, wont taste any like unless I win the lotto.

haiku for my dog

Walter is in and fed
and stretched oot on me bed
My canine brother. 

train sounds, peeing with dogs, courtin distant gals

I grew up hearing the Scrap Metal Express goin out to Selkirk north of Winnpeg, clacking and hootin down the track, echoing across the airfield behind my parents' place. Then in my 20s I live in the Nortend, within hearing of the big railyard that separated the city. Mostly heard booms of cars clanking together, squeal of wheels, but still a sound I like, if it isnt too close.  In Edmonton, my adopted home for 1/3 of my life, I used to hear the traincars clankin and puffin from 3-4 different places I lived around Old Strathcona, and even hear them from over here in McKernan sometimes. Trains kick ass.
If am out peeing with the dogs, I do.  Was just out doing that, my Germ Shep is right feisty tonight. He had some gravy on his kibble and also some dissolved glucosamine for his achey hips.  Gives me a reason to dance to the weather, having a dog in the yard. I peed out a couple beers by the tree where the dogs go, then kicked the tennis ball around and did a little stompy dance with him , also diggin the blue clouds on the horizon and the warm winter wind. Was -18 this morning, but about zero C. now.
Then the basement dude let out his Rottie n Husky, they gave me recognition as alpha male, then peed and got to chomping on ice chunks, all together.  Frozen snow, more than hard ice, makes for cool dog water. I think they were showing off, but I accept the salute.

The last topic? well, I have had good luck meeting very smart interesting women the past few years, but all online, and they come to visit and it goes one way or another, but I think it makes more sense to get to know a gal through many many words and gain their trust, and have a short or long romance, rather than just get drunk n screw after the bar. But I have certainly done my share of that.  Its great for people who have grown tired of the bar, but I am a bit of an exception, cuz only smart chicks who can put together a paragraph or 5 keep my interest.  Still love the 06-07 gal, now having a hard go in NC, bless her. Still good friends with the BC gal (southern AB for a while, but a BC gal at heart), and quite enjoying the Winterpeg gal, building an experience and talking.
As we sail into the Mystic, cue Van the Man..

the JB story

Back in my yoot, I had a rebel bud named JB. His dad was Icelandic, so it stood for Jon-Bjorn, (pronounced Yone-byorn). Anyway, jumping ahead a few years from the hot-wiring his dad's cars, a 56 VW bug we used to take to a big icy parking lot in north Winnipeg to do 'power turns', which means yankin the emergency brake and spinning in circles, or the 56 Pontiac with the rug stapled on the ceiling and the hookah pipe on the transmission hump, JB got a job at the horse track.
He was 5'5, 126 lbs naturally, but coincidentally that is jockey weight. He was mainly shovellin shit n dealin dope, and walking the horses, but they tried him out as a jockey. Didnt work out, but he was great as a shit-shoveller n dope dealer.
Travelled with the stable he worked for down the middle of the continent, down to Omaha, NB. Got fired in Omaha, no green card, the only folks he knew were his dope connections. Got in with a crew of drugstore cowboys, he had a weakness for the needle. They did a few scores, roamed around a bit, ended up in South Dakota (oh yeah before he got fired, he had a romance with a rich girl in SD who had 20 horses and 100 handguns, she liked the bad boys, and she was short, too) .
So, they are cruisin the backroads, maybe just lookin for some free gas, they pull into a farmyard.  There's a fridge on the front porch they can see, and they are hungry. They go check it out, its full of meat. Rather than take the meat out, they decide to take the whole fridge. Druggies dont always think straight. So they are just getting it off the ground, about to step off and put it in the veehickle, when Farmer John comes out with a 12 gauge, and utters the momentous words: "Hold it right there, boys."
JB did 90 days in Jamestown jail, read Serpico and many other books, and possibly learned to like cock. He likes girls still, but jail is jail. Wasnt quite the same after.
A good guy, but still  a little too into the dope. Last I heard he was living in a trailer in the boons with a 20 yr old girl with bad tattoos, and working at the rollin mills in Selkirk.
Good luck to him.

Mona Lisa, not Bob Hoskins

but Bob is cool.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxEmnxiUz8w

Pipe band on the Rood

My manager told a funny story tonight, as our mutual friend (just turned 24 with a pregnant wife, God love you son) gave us a ride to a point close to his hame and both a beer store and LRT station for me.
Here's the tale: J (bossman) used to play drums in a Pipe n Drum band, which if you are not Scots or have been livin in a 'reality show' hell, means bagpipes n drums. They played Highland Games type events all over eastern Canada and even went to Scotland once.  So the band (as it were) had played a highland games in New Brunswick and were on their way back to east coast Nova Scotia where they came from, and they had ingested a few bevvies, but one guy had a LOT of them. I will call him Hugh.  So they are rolling along the road, driver is sober, he is the drum major (different from those twiddly things they do  at football games) and kind of in charge of a bunch of kilted c*nts , one of whom (Hugh lets call him) has to piss and cant wait till they stop.
So he slides open the door of the big passenger van, lifts his kilt and lets er rip as they roll down the road. Thats right, they generally dont wear undies under.  So he is just getting into a good flow  when the cop lights go on behind, Woop woop! Drum major pulls over, a RCMP comes up either side of the vehickle..
At the driver's window, the drum major is saying, 'most of these guys are pretty lickered, we were about to get to the motel, but I'm sober and thats why  I am driving".  Cop is going to go for it, but buddy , still pissing under his kilt, out the sliding side door by the other cop, says,  " We were strollin fer cocksuckers, and looks like we just got a couple !"
Fortunately cop in charge has a sense of humor. Visibly stifling an urge to bust out laughing, he composes himself, and says, 'You guys get home safe now" and let them go on.

J is going to be telling that story for another 30 yrs now, I got some from when I was 19 too, but thats a gooder.

shoot out the lights

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6iMbP6TcU4Q

get down moses

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zty2WxVnklI

challenging the sleep

When I am in the 'givin er' stage of work, which is late January till June, I have to work a half-day Saturday. So I come home on Friday night about 10 pm. and the prudent thing would be to have summat to eat and go to bed by midnight so I can get up at 8 with a clear head. Prudent is a word that applies to me when I am heading out into a blizzard, I always make sure to dress appropriately, and even stick a choco bar or some jerky in the pocket, but NOT when it comes to sleep, especially on a Friday night.  Might even be genetically encoded to stay up too late and drink those extra beers on Friday.
I generally take a cab to work on Saturday morning, the LRT n bus never hook up when I want them to in a way which enables me to get there on time. Especially after double-figures beers and little sleep. At least the young feller bought some shampoo, which we were out of for a day or two. I rely on his need to look good for these supplies.
Enjoying chatting with my friend from the old hood in the Peg (you know who you are).  Funny to talk about Sportsmans' Billiards, Gunn's Bakery, Kelekis' hotdogs n fries, all that good stuff. And we both told Burton C. to fuck off, how bout that for coincidence. 
Smart chicks rule, especially if we share politics and ideas of teleology, the perversion of the Rebel Jesus into the Gaia-hatin God Corp, that Danny Williams from Newfndland is pretty cool for a Tory, that street bums are people too, and freedom is better than property.

Property would be nice, but some beardo once told me its slavery too. 

updated situation

11:40 here, but I have had a shower, made coffee and picked up 2 discrete dog turds in the hallway. I offered to let Walter out about 4 a.m when I had my middle-aged guy's mid-night pee run, but he didnt need to go then. By discrete, I mean 'holding together', not messy and easily picked with a dust pan and hucked out the back door. I wasnt surprised to find them there, the young feller slept at his ma's last night, so while I was sleeping till 11., there was no one getting up at 7 to let the dog out.
Back in the work groove fulltime tomorrow, which means I leave at 11 a.m and get home at 9:45 pm. Today the honchos from head office are in town too, so needed a sober night with lots of rest last night.  Hit the recliner, ate a roast beef sammitch, watched some Enterprise shows I had taped on video, dozed off, adjourned to bed about 1, where I had many wild dreams and got some good rest as well, in between awake times.
Very warm by seasonal standards today and tomorrow, approaching 50 F. or 10 C. ;  hope it melts down some of the giant snowbanks which are still sitting at some sidewalks and bus stops on my way to work, making it necessary to dodge cars on busy streets as a pedestrian. I expect every loader operator in the city is working 18 hour days already, it's just a matter of time before they can get to all of it.

Probably wont be keeping my gal pals awake with marathon messenger sessions for a while, as I plan to sober up a bit and concentrate on food, rest n work, but I like to booze n chat on weekends. And the blog will likely not be updated as often, as I dont like to talk about work on the net. The net is for kibitzing with my rowdy friends and meeting smart wimmins.

Protect, but dont disrespect, the wimmins n kids

I was up really late last night (again) and engaging with a few women in different ways. Arguing with one -she had heard some shite that Bukowski was a pedophile, which I really objected to, especially as the man has been dead for 16 yrs and cant defend himself, and I had just watched Born Into This, his biography, which really moved me- flirting with another, who watched my argument online with the first gal, and found me Magnificent (her word) in my empassioned defense, and just yakking with another, a gal I know and care about who was in Thailand in a tropical downpour, in a hut.  Our yakking covered a lot of ground- life, death, sex, love, kids, spirits- as she is a deep thinker and feeler, and also a warrior queen to be respected.
Women are great. That may seem to be a no-brainer, everybody has a mum, everybody came from a woman, but sometimes guys just get into that 'madonna/whore' thing, where one either sees a woman as a sex toy or a mother, but they are also full humans, deeper in many ways than guys, who are pretty simple. Guys have an On/Off switch, maybe a few different settings (fuck, fight, drink, jam, watch sports, feel sad about getting older) but women have 1000 different settings, which us guys maybe learn about 5 of in our whole lives.  Many of us still feel the primal urge to protect the village, but dont have the subtlety that a woman learns by about age 10.
 Kids are little humans. They have lots of settings too, beyond 'behaving, screwing up, being sick, being asleep'. My young feller is 4 months away from 18, he is on the cusp of being a kid and being a man. I think he will be a good man, provided he learns not to let his buddies take advantage of his kindness too often.  And put down the damn game controller and learn real things in the real world.  'Too soon old, too late wise'. A guy I really liked and respected who died young in a grisly farm accident said that to me for the first time.  He was a good man, and he never saw 40. 
Before I start gettin all maudlin and singin Annie Laurie, I think I will check in on the poker table. Sunday is a good day for tourneys on Jokerstars, the Sunday Two Grand starts in an hour.
Peace out. my grandfathers are with me today, and some other spirits like Warren Zevon and Hank Bukowski.  Hope you guys are getting all the drinks you want in the afterlife.

Bukowskianism, Bukowskology

started as  a letter to my bros in DFW, Tejas.

No, I dont want a hug, but I could really use some 19 yr old blonde twins. Seriously.
Dudes, I might have had what in 'Bukowskology' we call a 'headfucker'.  I find it really really hard to pretend to give a fuck. Especially about moronic, subpar bullshit cunts ideas about what is important. I dont mean girls. Girls arent cunts, anymore than respected male friends are cocks. Girls are the fuckin goal, here, me brothas. Nice smart girls, who turn you on without even trying. Just lookin over their shoulder while they are washing the dishes, and one goes 'YEAH', dats the fuckin shit, know wha mean?
Anyway, Bukowskology, I think we could get it called a religion then we get all kinds of tax breaks n shit.

The only accountant I know is Pakistani and he is very much a rule follower. Nice guy for your real taxes, but he wouldnt want to take this on.

Know any Italians?

regards, your Bukowskian bro

Gordonski

weary of the moanin n groanin

Can we just get over the dolphins? or  bring some gunboats into play? Seriously. I think Paul Watson would be OK with the latter, just shell the shit out of dolphin killers.

  Or maybe accept that cows are almost as smart.. many people are between the smartness of cows and dolphins, but somebody has to work retail. I mean it.
Should we eat them or kill them? obviously we fuck them, especially after one of those nights at the bar.  But are dolphins more precious than grad students from different countries?
or I think we can all agree they are more precious than annoying homeless people, or squeegee kids. I hate those fuckers, I just wish they would be edible.  Maybe they are edible, by the more promising homeless... Yeah, thats the ticket.  Rehab, or get eaten, yeah...

What is George W Bush doing these days, I bet he could move this fucker forward. 'We dont negotiate with homeless or the addicted. ' he would say..

No One is Available to Chat

We have created and defined a new rejection with the 'social network'.  If you have 62 people in different timezones, shouldnt you have someone, anyone, who is awake, alert at their post at the computer or fucking phone, and ready to respond to whatever minor whims you have? Even at 5 a.m.?  No. Sorry, mang.  Thats not how it is.  I had a moment of 'Oh Nobody is there' then I grew up suddenly.
Hey, if I wanted somebody to always be there I had many chances for a completely co-dependent relationship. I also had a few chances at a worthy part-time relationship, distance related.  But I kinda bailed on all o that, so far.  I might be redeemable, but if a gal could get a guy with a 7 digit  bank and no kids, I would say, go for that guy.  My dog is my most important relationship. Its the unconditional love and few demands part that keeps me going.
And, he wont live for ever. Ideally 30? by which time I will be 68, pretty much ready to put in the home. I dont even want to think about my dog dying. What if there was a secret formula I could kill people and inject it into my dog, that would enable him to live till he was 100? and maybe I could tag along, even tho I drink a lot of beer and listen to punk rock n shit. (not always, but I hear Jesus isnt big on punk rock)..  What if..

 Hmm.. what if I gave this idea to Chris Walter, would he front me something off the publishing deal?

nah... fucker. he would just give it to the poor. Or feed his kid or some shit.

diggin in the snow, baby

Hello me girls in Oz, Los Angeleez, Asheville, Nowth Carolina, (maybe Thailand?) I was just out diggin in the snow.  Thats what I do.  But I banked up the fine dog's house with some igloo blocks for insulation, it will cut drafts when he chooses to lounge in there and not trot around in his winter fur and guard us, or to look for gaps in the fence he might squeeeze through and stress me out by seeking adventure. He is a very smart canine and he gets compacent being so comfy and loved.  No adventure or busy streets to cross and tempt death.  Just couches to snooze on.  I can relate, safety gets boring.
Anyway, that was my aerobic workout for the past 45 , was diggin and chucking chunks of snow. I could seriously have built a small igloo of them, cuz they were compressed and dense enough to use as bricks. T in NC, my biggest regret was I didnt get you proper longjohns so we could do real winter stuff, no excuses now.  Any girl from Cali or Oz comes to see me in winter, I will make sure you are fitted for winter fun. Cant roll back the hands of time, but can learn from mistakes.

more music related shit

The same dude that turned me on to James McMurtry lead me to Ron Sexsmith, who I used to see on the ferry sometimes in the BC islands. Super nice guy, you wouldnt think he had the moxie to get where he got, but aggression isnt always rewarded or respected. I.e., I wouldnt want to hang with Ted Nugent, but his music was great when I was young n dumb. Stranglehold is still a good one, but I would rather have Ron Sexsmith house-sit, or if I had little kids, he would rock as a babysitter. I  am sure he has other things to do (like his own kids, and his music, etc.) but trustworthy is among the first words in my mind about him.  strawberry blonde

I think he jams with Elvis n Diana, also really nice people.  I am too outsidery and grouchy to hang with nice people, I think. I hang with outsidery people who drink.

But to return to the beginning, the guy who indicated the road to James McMurtry (an outsider who drinks) is in Taiwan.  We had one really good day a few years back, when we crossed the spine of Vancouver Island from Nanaimo to Tofino, listening to Check yr Head and possibly smokin red-hair and drinkin copious beers. Ate some good fish n chips in Ucluelet, thats factual.
I know a few good mates who have fled to Asia. I am a western Canadian to the core. I like it here, and shovel snow to prove it.

If you dont know who James McMurtry is, here's a sample. 
He can be kinder n gentler, but sometimes not.   choctaw bingo

Would still do campfire beers with the cat.

OK, I guess JImmy too

the last post labeled Warren was supposed to be 'lawyers, guns n money', but was instead the totally wicked Jimmy Smith track 'Root Down Part 1'. Here is Warren, but I think he put that one in there just to show respect for Jimmy.
Warren or Jimmy?

Looks like its Warren

anyway, if you think I am crazy, you are entitled. If you think I am a medium, I prefer to wear xtra long.

 thank you and good night.

fucking with the living or permitting the dead to say Ello

To get right to the point, this is one of my dead friends.  Warren

He doesnt pester me, but we know each other.  I know some people who claim to be able to manipulate this or that about live people, but it hasnt worked on me. I wish them luck.

 I dont want many dead people contacting me.  i used to be a musician, in previous lives. Didnt really get too far in this one with that.  Had a couple great fuckin jam years, out of many.
But the magic I work on the living is about love, music in my head,  beer, or dogs.
It requires some space.  I still have my dead buds.  I dont know the other ones' names, they are mostly jazz or country guys. 
Believe it or dont. I dont charge to be a medium, I am a xtra long, but I could use a beer.

My sis and many other wimmins I know do Tarot. I dont know what that shit is for, but it seems morbid. I would rather talk to my dead musician buddies. The future is unwritten.

Friday feels like Saturday, but at least I know today

Consulted with the young feller on how his first-semester exams are going, some good, so not-so-hot, but he thinks his in-class marks are high enough to carry the crappy ones.  He's not an over-achiever in school by any means, which I dont worry about. He is steady, he will always make rent and put food in the fridge. I think people who want their kids to win Nobel prizes or 2 doctorates by 25 are neurotic and overly concerned with others' opinions.  Its not a race, its a journey, enjoy the scenery along the way.  He doesnt have any exams today, so he is gaming in his room, got the laptop open for feckbook updates, and hot chocolate, noodles n burritos available.  He knows he has to study sometime this weekend, he will figure it out. 

I still have huge killer icicles coming down from the eaves of the house. I knocked off the 'dog-hazard' ones in the backyard, and requested an estimate from a reliable handyman on adding more insulation in the attic edges so we dont get the huge nasty ice dams and killer icicles, but he hasnt got back to me yet.  The current basement tenants whine more than anyone I ever had down there before. They are kind of overgrown kids, weed n gaming, even though they are supposedly skilled trades, but laid off.  And always, always late with rent. I had a 120 lb. girl down there for 2 1/2 yrs who whined less in all that time than these guys do in a week.  Props to mountain-girl bar waitresses with girl-balls.  She is a mom now, I am sure she will do a great job on that as well.

 I am currently in 2 poker tourneys at once. Not on porpoise, I thought the first one would be wrapped before the second one started. Its cheap entertainment, but they are real money games. One was 1.15, the other 2.20. Over 7000 games in 4 yrs, it has cost me 14 cents per game after the win-loss calculation.  And the house rake is 15%, so I am sitting at about 60% success. Its not really gambling, more like betting somebody a buck on a game.  But my middle aged attention span means I cant do justice to 2 games and blather on my blog, so I bid you adieu.  Until next time, Good Night and Good Wrestling.

good sleep but strange dreams

I suffer from intermittent insomnia. I can cope with less sleep than most, and often go a week on about 3 hours a night.  But I get the odd catch up night, like last night.  My fine dog was also in a mood to sleep; he usually needs to be let out at least once every 6 hours or so, he has an old guy's bladder, but last night he slept for about 11 hours straight. The most memorable of my dreams was I lost the dog at some event in some northern town which had tons of German Shepherds roaming loose, which meant every time I thought I had found him, close up inspection revealed it was a different dog. I found him, eventually, but there was much roaming and looking, and I even jumped a train at one point, which had lots of natives drinking on it.
I got up this morning feeling rested for the first time in a while.
I almost wonder if my midwinter insomnia has something to do with lack of sun and short days. There was that news item the other day that this town on Greenland had seen the sun earlier by 48 hrs. than ever recorded. The days get short enough up here at 53 40 N. lat. let alone north of 60.  I think we just hit 8 hours of daylight. We get our revenge in June when the days are about 18 hours long.
I have 2 gal pals in the tropics at the moment, one in Bahamas, one in Thailand. Soak up that sun, ladies. I have a male bud in Thailand as well, but he settled there and aint comin back.

this old House, She is Fallin apart

I hate moving.  It is such a big fkn hassle. When I could put everything I own into the back of my 87 F-150, that wasnt so bad, and the old dog could even still jump up on the seat then.
The house I live in here, with son and dog, and basement tenant, is the longest address I have had other the house I grew up in with my parents n sibs.  I have been here since Aug./04.
  This one has some cracks in the walls, crappy insulation and huge life threatening ice dams in winter. Into these cracks  water sometimes trickles, which is bad, and could make the cracks bigger. Freezing water can break mountain ranges down, let alone some cheap stucco house built for returning WW2 vets in 1947.
 Eventually, I will move, but with having a son almost 18, I realize he wont be living with me forever. He is welcome to stay till he is 24-25, but I will need more rent than he currently pays.  And the old dog is 13, I hope he lives forever, but I know he wont.
So to cinsider moving becausae the house is crappy kind of meets resistance in my mind, a stubborn Scot one even.  The cost of a new place, the hassle of hauling everything out, etc.. is not something I want to think about for a few years.
Provided the whole shitpile doesnt break in two and crumble some night.
My current basement tenant is a skilled trade, but he has no money (somehow) and doesnt want to fix anything unless the landlord (who lives in Hong Kong and I havent seen in person in 2 years) pays for it.  He has 2 dogs living with him, which is why he is here, as it is damned difficult to find a rental that will allow 2 real dogs (a Rottie n a Husky) , not to mention my fine German Shep.
Its a doggy, cracky old house.  But I hope it hangs together for another year or two.

Sunday Sunday

There is a different energy to Sunday. Admittedly, I thought it was Friday yesterday (saturday) until my son notified me otherwise (thats why we pay him the big bucks!) but Sunday has a tone, a theme of quiet, slowmoving water. Like the Red River but without the stink and the huge ass catfish. Actually, the Red has some nasty eddies and undercurrents. Its a river to respect. Like the Mississippi, but less black folks. Allow me my analogy.
I've been talking to a gal from my old hood in Winterpeg, its funny to talk about Pollock Hardware or Sportsmans Billiards, especially when my vision of it is from about 1980. Or 1974-76, for that matter, which is when I spent most time at the ol pool hall. Red Lebanese hash for 10 bucks a overweight gram. Going to see the Who for 6 bucks, or the Doobie Bros with Skunk Baxter before they went disco.  It was a great time to be a teenager, I dont envy kids nowadays.

The river, the Sunday. The old 'Peg, seen through a smeary glass of 30 years memory. Hotdogs n skinny fries at Kelekis'. Kubasa from City Meat, walking through the North Main Strip, giving a hurtin hungover native dude a buck to get a drink.  The walls that existed between neighborhoods; Krauts in E.K., snotty Anglos in Tuxedo (and Jews who could afford to move there from Garden City).  I think part of me will always see it in 1976, the reality of the place now is probably much changed, but I bet Nortend folks and southside folks still judge each other and could drop the gloves at short notice.

still winter, dog is cool, son thinks I am a moron

Well, to be charitable, Ed doesnt exactly think I am a moron, but I didnt know it was Saturday today, and questioned why he was home from 'school' at 11:45. What he said was 'It's Saturday' but his facial expression added the word 'Moron'.  He is not a mean guy, I think he digs that I am not a normal square prick, but 17 yr olds generally start to wonder how their dads made it this far, being morons. My dad could tell me about close scrapes he got into in WW2, which were many, and that was the huge ass-tightening adventure of his life, and I gave him big props for kickin Hitler's ass. My big adventures were largely partying n travelling.  I met Keef Richards n Joni in Paris. But didnt do their drugs or get naked, just met them.
The dog (Walter) is fuckin awesome. I feel the love for him hours every day. He is a dog, but he isnt 'just' a dog.  He is a sentient organism who loves me with every cell of his being.  He loves Ed too, we are his pack.  He has it pretty good here, wood-fenced yard, outdoor couch, insulated doghouse, couch which he has exclusive rights to in my bedroom, doggie pals downstairs..
Nevertheless, he is wicked awesome cool. And smarter than most people I meet.

Still winter up here at 53 50N. lat. Snow continues to fall.  The weedy gay guy next door even gets out to shovel, but he 'hates having to do Man Stuff'. I shovel, but I wish the other 3 males who live here would notice snow is accumulating and surprise me by moving it. My awesome tenant Jen was the best snow shoveler of either gender I have ever been privileged to share a sidewalk with, but she is in BC now.  Best neighbor ever, crazy dogs n all.

Jane wore a turtleneck

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25ThICK0Fbw

A brand new friend.  Lloyd Cole and the Commotions is definitely a band for that. I might get one. I might not. Reminds me of my epic Redhead. I loved her so hard. I still do, almost 20 years later. Saw her downtown once  last year,; she was with some yuppie twat. She made me feel like somebody had punched me in the fucking soul.
Twentay Yeahs laytah... in a Tim Roff voice, yew get may?
Fackeen Tossah, yew downt git it at all dewyah?

AND MY GIRL IN WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA,  i wont even attempt the accent there, because it isnt an accent to people who have lived there for 200 years.  I still love her. And another guy also loves her, and they go back farther.  Does that question my love? NO it does not. It means I have something in common with some dude I have never met, we both love a unique  wild chick with a giant brain from Ashevillle.  WESTERN North Carolina. Not fkn Raleigh.
She knows the gems n stones, and is wise in many things. And is fighting for her life, and both the dude (with the Lotus) I have never met, and my own self are fighting and praying she lives some more, because she is worth it and cool and sexy and smart.. and we love her.

felix papallardi

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFhM1XZsh6o&feature=grec_index

Wondering if I  should cook up some canned stew, cheap-ass hotdogs or begin the meat sauce.
She's a hard go.  Now that I have been rejected by the (maybe) most interesting woman in my life (wants to sleep 12 hours/day)  I have only myself to blame.
My diet largely consists of meat. I think I invented the frackin Atkins diet.
Dude got dumped. began eating only meat n veg, lost 20 lbs. , put it together,  marketed it.
 The diet is fuckin irrelevant,  the marketing is brill.

Its like Forrest Gump.

but I may have a fall back for tail. She also considers me a fall back, so its cool.

Sex after 40. Unless its love, its just Belly Slappin.

warren z, still comes around

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iHFDhOCuPyM&feature=related

girls, weather: a beginning

For me to embark on an analysis of girls (women; yes I acknowledge I am not talking about female children, but women should have a term equivalent to 'guys' in the anglish langvidge but they dont. Girls to me means 'women I find attractive or am equal to in history'. Or female children, but I draw the line. somewhere... Golda Meir is a woman, Indira Ghandi. I dont want to get them nekkid. Maggie Thatcher- I might like to flog with a cat o nine tails, but the impulses arent sexual or affectionate. ) would be like trying to talk about humans from 500 mill BC to the present.
Like weather, fa Crissakes.  It always changes. You think you got a behavior pattern sorted, its all good, nothing is going to go freeaky, then BOOM! One's shirt is suddenly unacceptable.  Or the detritus thereon.  Suntine, I have dressed up. Rare, dont blink or you'll miss it.  My dog sleeps on my bed. I dress for weather, not approval.  I was a disappointing guest to a good friend. Zo gehts, move on.

The weather is cold here at the moment. In Edmonotone, Alberta, we usually get about 2 cold snaps per winter when it is -20-something, windchill minus 30-something, which last about 10 days each. There are exceptions. But most winters, thats how she rolls. I do accept that we are in period of climate change. Can we we do shit about it? Maybe. I grew up in Winterpeg, -40 on new year's eve was the norm.  Get on the LJ's, scarf it up and try not to pass out in a snow bank.

But at the moment, we have crazy ass weather in east coast n NY, seriously crazy rain in Aus, QLD, these are linked somehow. Not by a human conspiracy, just  too much carbon for 2 centuries sent the shit over the line.
 What can we do? Conserve. Moderate.  In developing countries, educate the girls and stop the boys waving their fkn guns around so much.
If you are planning for a crop, you dont shoot the people with plows. Or the critters pulling em.

I am not really a God guy, in the religious sense. Faith is good, religion is bad, that is my litany.
But to steal from that blues band that got huge after they added the hot chicks:

'Dont stop thinkin about tomorrow..'

 'If only you'd believe in miracles, so would I..'

the stench of weed

Back in my teenage years (1972-79) I smoked my share of the herb. It was cheaper and weaker then, and given the heat-score factor, we smoked it outside mostly.  In somebody's garage, or huddled together outside in stands of trees, usually fat joints of cheap Mexican.  Nowadays, its a lot more potent, and in Canadian cities, cops usually dont bust kids for smokin it; but if you had a teenage son, would you want him smokin behind a 7-11 where some cop with a bad mood might roll up in his cruiser, or let him smoke in the house? I would fall into the latter category. But as a guy who might herb up once a month, if that, the stink of over-fertilized hydro weed is like a cow just shit a fresh one to my delicate shnozz.
I know about the smell of cowshit, my favorite uncle was a Dutch dairy farmer married to my ma's lil sister, who was my favorite aunt, and I spent a good deal of time in the ol cowbarn.  Hydro weed smells like fresh cowshit, especially indoors. Believe.
I hear them coughing their guts out also, but part of this is my newly quit-smoking GRRRR righteousness.  My basement neighbor/tenants, also smokin de herb mon, laid off and whining about it, but smokin weed n gaming all the time.. HMMM, you are out of work so you smoke weed and cough, and sleep until noon or 1 pm..
More and more I sound like somebody's dad. Which I am, so might as well give in to that.

As I have said to the young feller:  'Party after work, not instead of work. '
 'If you smoke dope twice a month, it might even be good for you. If you smoke twice a day, it will fuck you up, and sap your energy.'

Back to my poker n beer now. Legal, doesnt mess up my lungs, or stink up anyone's air.

shrinking online universe

Back in the 2000's, before the '10's, I used to talk to lots of people online. Some were old friends or workmates I had reconnected with, some were strangers I had met online and become friends with, some were just passers-by who knew some of the previous bunch. Friends of new friends, or just curious lookers, or liked my turn of phrase, or we shared a passion, but there were always messages , kudos, chuckles, rants, etc. to read. .
That was before MySpace dwindled and began to increasingly suck. I quite liked it 05-09, preferred it to facebook because of the blog feature. I met musicians , writers, and GIRLS there, who liked to write.  Feckbook, as I call it, always seemed superficial and ADD. It still does, but I'm on it. I post lots of youtube tunes when I have gone beyond the 10 drink stage.  I think now especially, with so many people using phones to update their online stuff, its increasingly non-writerish. Its LOL, CU L8R telegraphic garble.
What  I will write in this space will be a lot about my awesome dog, Walter, a gracefully aging German Shep (13 but fit) and my 17 1/2 yr old son Ed, who is a great guy for his age, responsible (mostly- he aint perfect, but he isnt a thug or a thief either), smart, and polite to his granny, and various grumbles, mumbles and exhortations that pass through my stubbly mind.
I call it Campfire Beers because that is among my favorite things ever, to sit by a fire outdoors with a few cool ones and a friend or three and just hang. Share some thoughts, light some farts (or not), just exist in a peaceful state by the crackling fire and the cold beers.