Me23 minutes ago
So what I''m thinking is maybe we are here to teach athletes how to save energy, We demonstrate, quite admirably might I add, the essence, the breadth if you will, of air management. l/We know when to ration, when to spoil oneself, and even a cheat of extra sometimes regardless of and ignoring the consequences. One short whiff, 4 quick puffs. The sports world must listen, gain in-spira-tion from us. At least my team here in Carolina should on the field of play.
Speaking of the home base, this island in a sea of rednecks we say in this town. Quite quaint for a large city. Good amount of crime, good amount of good. Great for BBQ, biscuits, cupcakes, alehouses, grits (???, what the ell are those), horsemeat burgers (ha, just kidding on that one), banks, and a multitude of every possible greasy fast food you don't want to visit. But of course I do when the spirit moves me,knowing the doc and scale and wife will all whine.
Maybe the weather is miserably hot at times, like in summer which goes from March to November before a short but brutal ice and wind season. Then the bugs and fist sized mosquitoes and 6 foot copperheads that are sometimes just rat snakes or old branches, the 95* heat (yes, we are still arrogantly fahrenheit;Bradbury did it 451 times) and the humidity lathering the face and crotch ten minutes after the third shower of the day. Great for those with issues with the lung balloons, but great for kids, dogs, and those greasy fast food joints that sell cold beverages. Perhaps the beach was great for me last month, though something did something to my energy and sleep and mood. Maybe it was that silly exacerbation thing that creeps in to spoil things the way this last sentence tried to do, but begone you horned demi-devil and leave us to the smiles we all give one another; Breathing as one, laughing at the spouses still enjoying a smoke on the patio as we write, and the smile and acceptance of knowing she has the right because she can and I wont because i can't. I pray the smoke reeper dare not speak to those I love, but I can't manage their lives. 'ell, I couldn't handle my own come to think about it. You know, I think Ill let you all manage it cuz you seem to make me joyful and full of joy. I awaken and put off the reading you till I return from teaching silly, spoiled diddoes all day, and know I love them regardless because I won't tell them or the boss that I can't lecture as long without the hoarse running in, cough spitting out, knowledge that I can't wait to get home with my laptop to touch base with my peeps. Gotta watch it, though, cuz wife can't feel neglected so I dine first, walk the hounds for exercise (mine, not theirs), then log on when she sneaks out for a smokey.
And I'm in joy enjoying you and sending tears and hope and hugs and curse words and dreams that every one of you lived in this tree-laden, snake infested, shiny, glassy, friendly town with a football team that MUST win, and a silly racism by both and all sides flaring up way too often till the football team wins, and then we are all brothers and sisters and break biscuits and grits together while roasting horseburgers (couldn't resist).
Funny how you all are faceless, raceless, bad breath-less, judgeless. It's nice and real and Godlike and, well, it's special... Like I've never known come to think of it.
So, you all are asleep, except the crackheads, and I send you good dreams, c-paps, and minimal night trips to the potty. Be well, and the top of the day as well as the best of the rest to you.
I Might Go Into The Garden To Eat Worms...
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