Who does not love women, wine, and song....

Remains a fool! But may we add, anyone who automatically disdains box wine will soon be parted from his treasure. A 3 liter box of wine gives you the equivalent of four standard 750 ml bottles, usually at a very good price compared to buying by the bottle. I got a box of Big House Cabernet, a nice discount label from California, for about 20 bucks yesterday in DC. Why pay more for bottles? Because a box is uncouth? I beg to differ. A box is economical, and probably better for the environment in the long term. If I don't pay for the glass in the bottles, I come out ahead. And you can always go for glass when the occasion calls for it. My kingdom for a good box of wine!

Creation Myth

Flour + Water + Yeast comes alive.

I gave myself a minor coughing fit by putting cayenne pepper into boiling water and inhaling the vapors.


Wholesome things bring more joy than grocery store cellophane sweets.



We'll need onions, honey, tea, and applesauce.


Early Saturday morning is all potential and sometimes it gets realized.

Winter trains part 2

Our train that was set to depart at 6:25 had not physically reached the station until 6:45. The people turning and sheepishly working back through the Lowell deluge after the official boarding announcement were Newburyport commuters with a scheduled theoretical departure of 6:45. What cheek to think they would leave the station within 10 minutes of on-schedule. Their delay was heard fading as I shuffled the platform with the horde, and it gave me a vague sense of justice served. The perverse mind of the frozen delayed commuter; his misery is actively seeking company, and he condemns those who aren't foundering with him yet.

Very important One-sentence post

Read this, if you would, since JD wrote it, and it's one of the most important things you'll read all day, and you ought to thank me for recommending it at all, for even deigning to come down off my high horse and offer you a link to someone else's blog post.

Fog Dream # 1

Imagine running up Labor in Vain Road, and encountering R——. The road is foggy; it's hard to make out who you're talking to. Lights wink in and out at us through the murk. R—— is trudging in the other direction. She is smiling, but in a pained way and too broadly. She betrays how false the expression is. Her voice is hollow as she tries to be cheery.

"Where ya headed?"

I have slowed to a trot, but I can't stop running, in that I am not allowed to by controlling physical realities in this state.

"I'm getting somewhere, I promise. I'll shoot you an email when I'm done. What are you working on, R——?"

The shrug, the well-remembered half-hearted joke.

"I don't know."

She maintains the image we have of her, even if there are cracks showing, doors left closed for long periods.

Sketch 1

W- The face of the popular girl from high school, thirty years on. The eyes still have the girlish twinkle. There are some lines around them, but not many. Even in her late forties, she still has kept some of that spark about her. She wears skirts short enough to draw the eye and introduce a vague question involving dress codes and seemliness, one that fades. She tends to say 'blahblahblah' to quickly gloss over something that doesn't need to be pounded out in detail.

Her whole aspect is a double entendre, and begs another question of how to interpret her. Is she the attractive older woman who has held her power to turn people's heads? Or is she rather the desperate fortysomething who has, frighteningly, never changed? [Would I be considered an anti-feminist boor in some circles for the manner in which I pose these questions?—A separate question entirely, you will agree.]

[bracketed digressive interspersals doing anything for you?]

I saw a shock of gray emerging at her hairline yesterday and was struck by how well the dye had done its duty: I never once considered how old she must be. It was all I could do not to stare at it after that. Does she know that I have guessed at her secret? [A hint here at the secrets we all keep in plain sight and we think people don't notice. They must have, though, no?]

These questions I'm inclined to pose about her make her one of the only people in the department who is truly interesting on her own merits. What happened to her? How did some part of her become arrested in a stage of growth, before it was fully mature [I am presuming, but what is life without presumption?]? I can only hope that it is not one of the darker mysteries that is hinted at by the evidence. Assumption: she married young to a high-school sweetheart, felt trapped, but stayed in it, and acts out in barely perceptible ways to assert her lost freedom. And who says you can't judge your elders and postulate their life stories based on appearances and surface perceptions?

semi-tongue-in-cheek

They line up for

McDonald's.

They crave a drink of

Grease.

They crave a glance at their

Death:

The 400-pounder unloaded
from a bench seat by the paramedics.

don't worry if I write rhymes, I write checks

I'm ready for whatever comes next.

And I'm excited. Something's gotta give here, right? And really, I am a pretty employable person.

This summer has been fun in spite of the rain, but it doesn't last forever. It gets colder at some point and this old Allan has to move on. Bob Vila, anyone?

I have almost no idea what the future will bring, but I'm ready to check it on out. Bring it on, future, I'll take it.

Remember. . . your different Life?

Just sunk 500 dollars into stock in China Mobile! Sometimes you have to play a hunch. My hunch is that China Mobile will not run out of people to sell cell phone service to, even though they already have 488 million subscribers. And they have a sweet dividend too. That never hurts. Wish me luck.

Livin' in a powder keg and givin' off sparks

I need a new job.

Just putting that out there, take it or leave it. If there's anybody out there in a position to give me a sweet job with nice benefits and even average money, feel free to contact me. I'm actually putting a lot of eggs in that basket, the scenario where a mysterious benefactor somehow finds this incredibly obscure blog, and, knowing very little about me or any skills that I might have, desires to give me a shot. As Bill Lumberg would say, that would be just grrreat.

(Office Space? Anyone?)

Because we all know that a recession is the best time to look for a job.

Oddly enough, I've already gotten two jobs during this recession, since September 1. Maybe the third time's the charm, again. Although the first two times were the charm too, so, you get the picture.

I'm rambling, but I'd like to emphasize again, if you're a rich person who's handing out jobs to inexperienced young whippersnappers like they're cough drops, please consider me. You can leave a comment here with your contact information. Don't call me, I'll call you.

Thanks.

I'll miss the alimony too

I used to own 32 shares of GM stock that I purchased for 5.50 per share. Now I own it all over again as a US taxpayer.


I'm raising my can of Schlitz to new beginnings.

you can't sing to save your life

Kinds of Port in my liquor cabinet: 4

Kinds of Bourbon in my liquor cabinet: 2


We are lacking in Bourbon.

crash

So, the economy is in shambles. And I can't help but be selfish and wonder how it's going to affect me, and my friends, and my generation. How am I going to be able to get a real job? Will there be any jobs, anywhere?
Make no mistake, I'm confident in myself and my abilities. But how do I get a job if I don't have experience, and how do i get experience if I don't have a job? And where the heck do I get a good job anyways with history degree and really very little idea what I want to do?
It's times like these when you have to take a deep breath and realize that things could be so much worse. I have enough to eat and drink and a warm bed to sleep in at night. I have clothing, money in a savings account, and a job that I don't hate. So count your blessings. It's good to be alive isn't it?