Bacon in the morning
I was primarily raised on a farm
We cooked on a wood stove.
We raised our own hogs
We cured our own bacon
There was and is always a pot of bacon drippings beside the stove
The smell of bacon in the morning, is just the most welcome
I can smell it 50+ yards away outside
April 28th 1968 was a rainy spring day.
Don’t all good stories start on a rainy day?
That Monday I’d gone into the local Bultaco dealer to get a new Pursang for the upcoming racing season.
Right next to the line of bright red Pursangs was a tiny Metralla, 200ccs, 166 lbs, low bars, ironing board seat. My nostrils flared, my mind raced, zoom-zoom-zoom. I bought one of each. Why not, my wife is in drug rehab, my kids are in foster care because the powers that be decided I couldn’t care for them and work too.
Fast forward to Friday.
I finished working, put on a sweat shirt a pair of bib overalls, a rain suit, and my brand new “Bell Star” and my “Mike Hailwood” goggles. I’m ready to speed in the rain. Hoopy-Doopy. Going fast in the rain is so cool. I crossed Minneapolis, Saint Paul, up hwy 35 to Stillwater. This little son of a bitch between my legs is too damn sweet.
On the edge of Stillwater I make my last turn, one more mile to go I thought. Now I’m cold. Roll the throttle to the stop and catch 5 gears zoom-zoom-zoom. Without a moment to react a 55 ford comes out from behind a UPS style van. Throttle is still locked. Hit that piece of crap right in the middle of the left front wheel. Took the bars and part of the cables with me. Flipped through the air 200 feet, over and over like a rag doll. Landed flat on my front with those bitty bars still in front of me.
I laid there quite a while thinking, “sure takes a long time to die”. After a few minutes I think “guess I’m not dieing”, so I start checking the condition of my condition. My right arm doesn’t work too well, but I can stand up, “COOL”. I walk over and look at the bike, “turned to crap”, “front wheel is stuck up on top of the motor, below the gas tank”.
I walked over to the ford. A sort of medium nondescript girl in her early 20s is standing there. I ask why’d ya run the stop sign? She mumbles something. I say “ya half wit bitch look what ya did to my bike, and I think I’m hurt”. She starts sobbing and runs over to her house and gets her husband. He comes out and throws my helmet on the ground from the fender of his Ford. “What did you call my wife?” I say “hold up there, first pick up my hat, and second, I’m hurt not dead”. I further go on to say “I’m going to heal and you’re still going to be a stupid cock-sucker and you’ll not want me bein pissed when I get right”
About that moment a cop walks up and advises me not to go on with my threats as he’d be a witness to my utterances.
Well neither of the car owners was licensed, the car wasn’t licensed, nor insured. They didn’t have a pot to piss in. The local hospital couldn’t handle my injury. I called my brother and asked him to get us a six-pack of Schmidts beer and drive me down to the good hospital in St. Paul.
So Demerol and Minnesota “STRONG” 12% beer got me to St Paul.
Before I go on with this story, someone has to get me another drink. Who’s it going to be?
The angel on your left shoulder and the demon on your right are duking it out.
What are they fighting over?
How’s about we switch this up and say Oprah on one shoulder and Jerry Springer on the other.
Then they’re fighting for ratings.
They’re contending for the condition of my gray matter/mush.
They want my money for their particular sponsors.
They’re not fighting for my soul, I take them to Nevada City shoe repair.
My guess is that they just ran out of some place to be.
This planet is horrifically overpopulated.
Nother one of them wide open Plinky Planks
What is the purpose of getting attention:
Second helping
Money you don’t have coming
Telling someone they’ve parked on your foot
Money you do have coming
Play my favorite song
Telling someone that they might have dressed in the dark
You’re trying to catch a ride
You’re trying to hustle a drink
You’d like them to go have sex with themselves
You need medical help
You’d like their vote
You’d like to get laid
So that I could experience firsthand people sitting in them on both sides of the aisle, people in front of the aisle lying, cheating, and being disingenuous without even flinching.
Not doing what we’d like to think they are or are supposed to be doing. Guiding the United States into a really good place for all.
Oops, dreaming again.
Sorry
I cuss this place every time something breaks.
I cuss this place every time I have to shovel snow
I cuss this place every time one of my neighbors thinks they have to run a backhoe for 6 days
I cuss this place every time a neighbors dog barks for 6 or seven hours
I cuss this place
I cuss this place
It is 6 acres in the Sierra Nevada
It has a perfect west by southwest sunset
I has hundreds of 100 foot Pines, Oaks, and Perfume Cedars.
It has a resident population of white tail deer and wild turkeys and California quail etc
It is a posh penthouse overlooking Central Park.
I am a whiner
As long as we have adequate cookies we'd be ok.
If not he's going down
Fortunately mom taught me to bake cookies whilst just 8
Oatmeal
Oatmeal choc chip
Chewy Oatmeal raisin
Peanut butter
Sugar
Pecan sandies
Date raisin
Peach clips
Rum raisin
Anyone game
Me n Cookie boy will be OK
Our little town is growing so we have plenty lumber/hardware stores
We have enough drug stores to accommodate all our legal drug needs
This place ain't cool enough to need high fashion outlets
We have three kitchen stores
We have 6 large groceries.
All our car dealers have gone broke or moved.
Plenty of thrift stores Good-Will etc.
Antiques up the ying yang
Within 20 miles we have all the big boxes
Plenty wine and liquor
Restaurants a bunch
My very narrow life needs a Guitar Center
Toys for the esthetically inclined.
Studio
It's my boat, I'm the captain.
Movie theater
Apparently you didn't get it the first time.
Porn studio
Web Server room
Political action committee board room
I'm the owner, I'm the captain
12 mile limit here I come
Any bread
Any filler
Any time
Dill Pickles n mayo n Orrowheat 3 seed bread
Pumpernickel butter n (mac n cheese)
Home made baguette{love to bake} n Miracle Whip n Jalapeño
Samich is a Samich is a Samich
Grab some grub, cram it together n get on with your life.
Some are better than others
Cold meatloaf ketchup n mustard
Shrimp hot mustard n pickled ginger
Tomatoes Mayo Cold Roast Beef n cilantro
The fridge is a palette, get to painting....
Wash it down with Jack Daniels or Kendal Jackson Chardonnay
Forgot
Wayfarer's bread
Sour Kraut
Sauteed onions
Slices of Polish sausage
My friend Jack
Multi tasking multi grain distilling/mixologist cyborg
Need I say more?
Oh Jack, two martinis and uh a Singapore sling por favor....
Reminders
2109, uh OK Morton{my robot’s name is Morton} thanks for reminding me of the date. I’ve long since lost most of my cognitive skills. My parents and their parents being aware that they had born stupid or inept children sent us to parochial schools where we would be instructed instead of how to think. OK, OK Morton I’ll put on some pants before I go down town, sheesh what a nag. Morton keeps me aware of all the necessary daily skills and tasks. I do however have an uncle, somehow also named Morton. Uncle Mort being the drunk maverick in the family taught me a cool thing. He showed me something I wasn’t taught in school. He showed me where the On-Off switch on everything in the house is, including Morton my robot.
Matching socks, why's that Mort?
When I was a little kid(1950) we lived on a farm outside of Spokane.
We had just returned from two years in Germany.
My father was tired of civil service, took a job driving hack nights to supplement the farm income.
By this time there were 11 of us kids and mom had him take one of us into town for a couple of days.
There were was Kress drug store next to the cab office.
In the window was one of those perpetual motion taffy pulling machines.
I quite literally would stand there for hours watching the motion trying to internalize that machine.
One night the druggist came out and handed me a piece.
A performance which was repeated every time I went to town.
Take that taffy, put it in your cheek like Walt Garrison pinching snuff and you're good for an hour.
That lump in my cheek got me in more trouble in school.
Took a lot of abuse from teachers .
My obstinance gave them fits.
Fast forward 58 years, sans teeth, pull out the dentures , pop in taffy and drive my wife nuts.
Little boys don't truly grow all the way up, Evahh
There are a lot of variables here
What snake?
What continent?
Who referees such a ludicrous bout?
Is it a female Kangaroo.
What is the terrain?
If the bout were up a tree, you can guess the rest.
Would the kangaroo be alone, or in a group? Sort of a Kang-bang.
Rocky terrain favors the snake.
What if the Vegas odds are fixed?
What if it's dark or raining?
How about in June, the snake would be in hibernation, fight called.
I met a nurse in Darwin June 1959, she was real snake, she could take anyone anything.
You guessed it.
I just find it impossible to give a straight answer.
This subject brings to the top the age old attempt by humans to give some meaning or sense of how we(all) of the earth was derived.
For some, if we find other life forms it’d reinforce their beliefs in their particular deity.
For others it would spawn another bouquet of fancy and fantasy which is probably the prime features of man kind.
Our ability to pick up a grain of rice and puzzle it into 10s of thousands of other items and yet no quite understand it.
It would be interesting to see which team would catch the ball(other forms of life) and in what direction they ran, before discovering they were running with empty arms. Probably the most aggressive side, the one least equipped to carry the knowledge.
Oh well
Good going Plinky
Ya caught me in a sober moment.
