Friday, January 04, 2019

Happy New Year

Here's a few flowers I’ve painted in the’s been awhile since I’ve picked up a paintbrush. It’s been awhile since I’ve been anything other than an empty vessel. I’d like to paint and write, but I think I may need a kick in the keister or some other kind of attitude adjustment or a muse to inspire me. I never named my paintings. I just numbered unimaginative of me!

Friday, November 09, 2018

Lebron James, Eat Your Heart Out!

Once in awhile a true Kodak moment happens,  but unfortunately, more often than not the moment ends without a photo being taken. Now, in the age of cell phones being readily available, well-documented unexpected Kodak moments are on the rise everywhere. But in a time before cell phones, way back in the dark ages one such moment has always stuck in my mind and I ask myself where was my camera when I needed it the most.

I accompanied a friend to her doctor appointment one beautiful sunny summer day because she needed moral support. Her doctor was going to take a sample of what he thought were and outbreak of genital herpes. Remember this was back in the dark ages before genital herpes had reached epidemic proportions. I'm sure now a doctor can simply have a look see and correctly diagnose the dastardly sores. After her appointment, we decided to have lunch at a drive-in restaurant that was famous for their onion rings. Their serving sizes were enormous. Even a small order was enough to feed several people or many squawking seagulls sea chickens. So after sating myself with onion rings I decided to treat the mass of local beggars that had formed in the parking lot as we ate our lunch. Their only desire was to entice the drive-in's patronage to feed them, so one by one I slung the remainder of my onion rings out my car window and one by one each onion ring was happily devoured until it happened...a true Kodak moment! I slung one onion ring out my window and it landed perfectly around a seagull's neck like I was playing a game of ring toss. My friend and I laughed so hard that for a moment she forgot the somber occasion that had brought us to Panama City that afternoon. As the seagull flew away with the onion ring around its neck it was accompanied by many of its friends happily pecking away at its onion ring necklace.

Yesterday another Kodak moment happened. This time I was able to photograph it and no, it didn't involve seagulls or onion rings this time. Because I'm lazy, when I'm in my bedroom and when something needs to be thrown away in the trashcan, I usually toss it across the room and 9 times out of 10 whatever I'm throwing lands directly in the trashcan. This time it involved an empty mini can of Coke, but please don't ask me why I drink these mini cans of Coke. As I performed my most skillful shot, the empty can sailed across the room and landed perfectly balanced on the edge of the open trashcan's lid. If I had tried to do that exact shot a million times over, the result would never happen again like it did yesterday. Fate? Was I holding my mouth the right way? Were the planets in perfect alignment? Was it just a freak accident? Or is this a sign I should try out for The Harlem Globetrotters?

Friday, November 02, 2018

My Motley Crew

This is an example of what an older sister will coax her younger brothers into doing.  Now, that they're all adults, I wonder if she still commands that kind of power over them. What a motley looking bunch of rugrats they were, but I'm proud to announce that they have improved with age...somewhat! lol

Daniel (the older of the two) looks like a mini version of The Terminator gone wrong and Matthew (bless his little pea pickin' heart) has that bag lady look going on. I'm sure this was a result of them being bored. I guess I should have let them play more video games and watch television more than I allowed. What an awful, horrid mother I was because I made them read books and play outside.

Monday, October 29, 2018

Sex and the Red Sox

2018 World Series Champions - Boston Red Sox
Way back in 2005 (when blogging was still in its infancy) as part of a lost bet, I was "instructed" to compare the Boston Red Sox to sex and then post it on my blog for all to see. Here’s what I came up with:

Men claim there's no such thing as bad sex. They claim sometimes sex is just better than other times. If that's the truth, it works that way with the Red Sox and their various seasons as well! A Red Sox season might start out with incredible chemistry and endless possibilities, but all too often turns limp and impotent after the seventh inning stretch or during September when giving it your all really counts. But sometimes on a good day when the moon is in the seventh house and the Jupiter is aligned with Mars, a season gets burnt into the Red Sox Nation’s collective memory. When that happens, all other memories pale in comparison. I've got to admit win or lose, like sex, ALL Red Sox baseball is good, but winning is great.

Maybe it's that arrogant cockiness of knowing something great is about to happen that makes a fan breathless in anticipation of what comes next. As with any memorable interlude that starts out with maybe a look across a room and ends with a night of fiery passion with someone you just can't seem to get enough of, the Red Sox command the same type of passion with its fans. The whisper of a sweet nothing between lovers translates into "I don't believe in curses" and ends with doing the impossible. Oh My God! The Red Sox started an explosive orgasm felt worldwide by winning the 2004 World Series.

So we, the Red Sox Nation act like puppies in search of yummies. Year after year the fans have been subjected to unsatisfying quickies and performance anxiety. We continually hear what seems like, “not tonight honey, I have a headache” yet year after year we remain hopeful. We remain faithful. We chose monogamy over "playing the field" when going elsewhere for satisfaction would have been easier and much less frustrating. We keep hoping that hanging in there long enough the Red Sox might stumble onto the right combination of moves so a real explosion will occur. As with sex, so goes baseball...the chemistry has to be there and every step, every move has to be taken in unison and when the climax finally occurs, the game is won and the fans go wild in the stands and in the bars and in the streets everywhere across the nation.

I remember the first moment I knew the Red Sox were going all the way. The Yankees gave the Red Sox that memorable ass-kicking in their own house during the 3rd game of the 2004 ALCS, but the Sox came back to beat them in Game 4. That was when I knew! I felt the fire! I told everyone, but no one believed me. Most people laughed, but I knew that they had finally blossomed and was ready to be deflowered. While I believed, most of the world thought the Yankees would be the team once again going to the World Series. Everyone loved pointing out that the Red Sox would peter out like a frustrated old man with erectile dysfunction who never quite goes the distance. Those doubters were wrong! The Red Sox beat their nemesis, the New York Yankees and as I watched the last minutes of game 4 of the World Series against the St. Louis Cardinals, I held my breath...I couldn't breathe...I wouldn't breathe! My son looked at me as I started to turn blue and told me to breathe or else I'd pass out, but I hear oxygen loss heightens the climax! Ha! Could it be possible that the Red Sox would sweep the St. Louis Cardinals?

How could I explain to him the moment at hand was a moment I had waited my entire life to witness and to feel? A moment I had truly thought I may never see happen, but there it was happening right before my eyes. While other teams have moments like this often and their fans cheer them on, The Red Sox waited EIGHTY SIX years to have a gushing multiple orgasmic moment that not only rocked the world, but made people everywhere (even the Chicago Cubs) believe anything is possible. I hate to sound greedy, but 86 years to remain celibate is a little much for anyone! But once their virginity was lost, the Red Sox learned to play like champions and win like the champions we all knew they could be! Then 9 years later with not one, but two World Series under their belts, once again the Red Sox Nation was hungry. We all lusted for more as the Red Sox once again played the Cardinals and once again the Red Sox got the job done and left a smile on every face of the Red Sox Nation.

Now, on October 28, 2018, the Red Sox went all the way once again and every person who resides in the Red Sox Nations knows without any doubt win or lose, we will still love the Red Sox tomorrow and forever and always. Congratulations to the 2018 World Champions on another job well done! You guys continue to rock my world and I hope I'll be able to repost this many more times in the future!

Thursday, October 18, 2018

The Cankle Queen Confession

Supposedly, the more I use my foot, the more it will swell.  To find out if that was the truth, I avoided walking yesterday and only got up to use the bathroom. Like a werewolf, I transformed into The Amazing Cankle Queen by the time the Sandman came to visit me.

Besides having toes like Vienna sausages, my skin felt like it was being stretched past its capacity. I couldn't move my toes or bend my ankle. After having a blood clot ruled out a few weeks ago, the cause, I'm told, is severe arthritis in my right foot. Isn't that special?

I really don't mind getting older. The white hair and wrinkles are nothing.  Everyone gets wrinkles plus sagging in places that no one thought could sag, so what's the big deal? I've never been vain, so the whole loosing my outer beauty is like a walk in the park. What I do mind is what happens inside an aging body. I mind the constant pain and the realization that it will only get worse as I get older. I mind being told to grin and bear it or to just accept that I'm no longer 30. Those aren't the things Wonder Woman wants to hear.  I mind the anxiety over struggling to maintain my blood sugar. I mind the insomnia I've had most of my adult life. I mind asking for help and yes, I mind the shitty attitude I have when I hurt so badly that I want to cry. I mind the cruel transformation that took me from being a social butterfly to being a broken down bitchy troglodyte.

Oh well! Tomorrow's another day and with that comes the hope that the compression fracture I have in my lower back that I reaggravated a few weeks ago by falling yet again will start feeling better. With tomorrow comes the hope I'll have the courage to pick up the phone and make an appointment to ask my primary care doctor to refer me to a orthopedic doctor to look at my foot and to refer me to another neurosurgeon who isn't an asshole. I can tolerate a lot, but I have such a low tolerance for assholes and I certainly don't want one to perform surgery on my spine that could possibly lead to nerve damage. Yes, tomorrow is another glorious day in the neighborhood! Tomorrow I will awake and smile because things could be much, much worse.

As Nurse Ratched so eloquently says, "It's medication time!" and then, hopefully a deep, peaceful sleep will follow.

I will be watching over you
I am gonna help you see it through
I will protect you in the night
I am smiling next to you, in silent lucidity

Monday, October 15, 2018


Coming home from picking up a prescription tonight I saw this in my neighborhood. I think someone has absolutely lost their mind.

These are NOT Halloween decorations! If you look carefully you'll see more decoration on the fence they don't have turned on yet. I think this must be a work in progress. What I should have done was gotten out of the car and started singing Christmas carols. Perhaps if I could sing, I would have done exactly that.

Thursday, October 11, 2018

Mother Nature Can Be A Real Bitch

I always joke around and say I live on the Redneck Riviera, but for anyone who has never visited this part of Florida let me give you a better picture of what it's like. First, we boast having the world's whitest beaches. PERIOD! From Pensacola to Apalachicola life consists of a variety of paces from slow to slower within each quaint community. Most of the beaches aren't wall to wall people unless that's what you're into and then there's spots that cater to that sort of thing. Just ask anyone where spring breakers go and they'll point you to some crowds or ask where the hot spots are for vacationing. On the other hand, there's some beaches along the Redneck Riviera you can walk for miles and never see another person. That's serenity at its finest...sun, surf and the sweet smell of the Gulf of Mexico.

The further East you go, the small communities that are tucked in between the larger ones are nothing more than spectacular. One such community owns a large part of my heart. When I was 30, I moved to Port St Joe, Florida and then moved to St. Joe Beach soon after and worked at the Driftwood Inn on Mexico Beach. It was the only motel I had ever seen that didn't have phones in the rooms. At first, I didn't get it, but then slowly as I saw the stressed out businessmen and their families come to Mexico Beach and leave ready to go back to work, I finally got it. Not long after I started working at the Driftwood, I worked my way into the position of general manager. It was then, I really saw how much people really appreciated the solitude of Mexico Beach. It always surprised me at how generous so many of the people were upon checking out. Those people would always thank me and give me a tip for making their stay at the Driftwood exactly what they needed.

Long after I moved back to Pensacola, the Driftwood and Mexico Beach continued to grow, yet it never lost its quaintness. No high rises, no fast food restaurants, no large grocery store chains and no fact, to get all of that you had to drive about 20 miles into Panama City to the west or about 15 miles into Port Saint Joe to the East (as far as I know St. Joe still doesn't have a Walmart). At the time I lived there, the only convenience store was on St Joe Beach.  I'm fairly certain over the years it hasn't change too much. The community is largely an "artsy" place to live and features annual art, wine and photography festivals. A large part of what has shaped Mexico Beach are the Wood family, owners of the Driftwood Inn who are very accomplished artists in their own right.

It makes me sick every time I think of the destruction Hurricane Michael unleashed upon an area of the world with such pristine beaches. My heart goes out to anyone who lost their home and/or business. I hope each person has the courage to rebuild and come together as a community to restore the Pre-Hurricane Michael tranquility and well-being they had just a few days ago.

I'd like to share pictures of Florida's Northern Gulf Coast that I know and love starting with Pensacola Beach and ending with Apalachicola.

Pensacola Beach, Florida

Fort Walton Beach/Destin, Florida

Panama City Beach, Florida

Mexico Beach, Florida

Port St, Joe/Cape San Blas/Indian Pass, Florida

Apalachicola and St. George Island

Mexico Beach, Florida after Hurricane Michael