The Crass Menagerie

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Location: The Promised Land

This is my triumphant return to the lifestyle I've always furthered and forwarded in my heart, at least, so let's blast off. The first half of my life has been incredible and the second segment will include more splendors than any Ottoman Sultan could ever have wished for in his golden repose. Anyway, fasten your laughter belt cuz you're on a collision course with wackiness.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Harvest Howl

Check out this hellhound. Just before sunset I came upon this guardian of Damien in the road and I yielded and turned around, after I'd clicked a few shots. Click on the dark one and look at his fiery eyes. I guess this officially kicks off fall and the spooky season. That's groovy but the mercury still hits the '80s well in to October which wasn't the norm five or ten years ago. The walnuts rain down louder than ever and have created a comedy obstacle if you have to walk down the hill in the back yard. The harvest moon is pouring down through the trees that haven't quite started to give up their leaves. I haven't stood in a purity like this in a long time.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Hooray for Everything

I don't think it's really so fun to stay at the YMCA, but they make it seem more plausible. Summer dwindles away and certain images take their turn. The Braves' season wheezes on an iron lung, but the fun hasn't vanished. At last, the evenings provide cool reliefs and I often sit with the window open behind me, allowing the song of the nighttime to blend in to the soundtrack. Every five or ten minutes, tranquillity is shattered as a walnut, bigger than a golf ball, smacks into the ground just beyond the carport. They remind me of a time when I was camping alone in Savage Gulf, Tennessee during the peak of fall. The foliage was superb but little flotsam and jetsam rained down through the trees and onto my tent, keeping me deep into the scotch to get some sleep. Then an owl, loud as a car horn, blared directly above about two in the morning and I must have surely turned to black and white in some kind of Little Rascals take as I convulsed in my sleeping bag. This is the time of year for scary stories and remembrances, and scary movies. I saw Rob Zombie's new Halloween. Pew. We'll strive to do better in the next eight weeks.
As the winds pick up in the late night, the crashes come more frequently. One hits the roof every once in a while but none have made it to the cars yet. I'm tempted to go out and sit on the hill under the tree and dare the falling missiles to find my head. Some would come with little fanfare but others would begin the descent with a whistle in the wind and then a rattling cascade through the branches and thick air, with a satisfying plop at the sudden end. The reality of earth. That's where I am. I stand by my dish.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Every now and then....

A wave passed through town tonight, marking the end of more than a month of pressure-cooker conditions. As if the Almighty's heel had been pressed to the region, today I could feel it lift with a small flurry, no real fireworks. Soon the mercury will dip below sixty for the first time since May and some of us will evolve to resolve to carry on the cycle and watch scary movies. These are the way things go.
Tonight I tried to think of a list of the absurdly lucky. I thought, in no order: Adam Sandler, Dane Cook, Chip Caray, Julia Roberts, Andrew McCarthy (I just saw some of "Class" again [gotta love how they just sweep an obviously disturbed Jaquelline Bisset under the rug]), Steven Speilberg, Clint Howard, Jay Leno, (I'm avoiding the obvious teeny-pop dildos) Warren Beatty, Alan Parker, Robert Redford- the director, Billy Dee Williams (duh), Naomi Watts, Rene Zellwegger, anyone on Seinfeld or Friends, Howie Mandel (touch this man if you get the chance, please!), Soon Yi Previn, Benedict the XVI... I guess.
As the wheel turns, I stand by my dish.

Monday, September 03, 2007

On the Crest of a Wave

Summer hasn't yet released us, though the grasp is weakening. I feel like so much baked brick at this point. This is Mandrake, the Magician. He appears every night and I give him some tasty morsels. I can't decide if that's a lightning bolt on his nose or a shooting star or an exclamation point. I wasn't ready to break out the name Exclamator (or the Intergalaticater, otherwise known as... The Exclaminator). You can figure out the other jokes about the string in my leg and "Feed me, Mandrake!" so I won't list them all.

Also included herein are Kalu and Tiki. I leave it to the public to assign the identities. Most of these are random images from a season gone by. It already begins to feel separate.

A full moon and lunar eclipse on my birthday felt like the perfect separation to forge ahead and assimilate the protean miasma that the experience deposited on me. Sorry but that actually makes sense to me and I've read it back about ten times. Things are going to start happening to me now.