Rocket Fuel and Turnip Greens

I've told everybody everything I know and I'm left with no secrets. It's way too late to ask for any kind of immunity. When I was a kid I always longed for some kind of family compound so that I could be surrounded by cousins, aunts, uncles. 

It's still hard for me to see company leave. My friends took me to a family style restaurant last night and I hated to walk out. Maybe it's time to worry about fear of abandonment when you hate to walk out on strangers.

Coolerator Inventory

The stars were up to no-good on the night that I was born. I'm not like the rest. All my teachers knew. Miss Gammon, my first grade teacher, came to visit me in the hospital when I had my tonsils removed. She wanted to double promote me. I'm pretty sure that she thought I was from another planet.

Over the years some of them liked me. Some of them didn't. It took some a while to figure it out. I could always tell the ones who were pretty sure they had known me in another life.

When you know that you're different you learn to keep it to yourself. Well, you should. Too much babble about that sort of thing just complicates life.

Oh, it doesn't mean that you're better and I've spent a lot of time worrying and hoping that it doesn't mean you're worse.

Rock'n'roll has gotten me through seventy years of magic. I don't know, Butch- maybe it did come from Lubbock, Texas.

                                 

Day Drinkers and Hot Rods

Maybe it's the randomness that gets me. All I've got for you is some truth. In this day and age that's rare. I'm not sure that the throngs are screaming for it.

Heaven? Reincarnation? I wish I believed.

Evil? I wish I didn't.

When I was twelve I loved professional wrestling. Oh, I knew it wasn't real but I loved the melodrama and the spectacle. I was aware that there were folks who did believe it.

Now the network news is crazier than anything I ever saw on television wrestling. Ever. 

No wonder rock'n'roll is on the ropes. Why would anybody turn on wrestling when Sean Spicer comes out from under a rock for the TV cameras mid-day every day. American culture is all one big reality show. 

It must be hard to sell LSD now, too.

Right Makes Tight

When Mike and Frank drive off from a pick, I tear up as they hang out the windows of the van waving goodbye while the folks left behind call out, "Come back any time. Be safe."

I really can't watch TV ads at all around the holidays.

Of course I want to adopt every shelter animal while being well aware that they're the relatively lucky ones and I never see the gigantic tree service trucks in the neighborhood without worrying about squirrel families being displaced.

As fashion and I move in opposite directions, as usual, this one is okay with me. I won't ever be hip. I hope I'll usually be kind. World economies are only important up to the point that hungry folks are fed and everyone has shelter.

If you justify a "defense" budget based on your religion, you might want to consider your faith and check on a new one.

The Captain's Table

All this gold and me without a thing to wear. I've just brushed my teeth and I can't do a thing with them.

Pass the kimchi, please.

Oh, by the way- I thought I saw Yuang Yang Kim throwing something off the Hwang Mangeyong bridge.

Papa San caught the bird flu last September and died. Mama spent the insurance settlement on super teeth whitening and tends to date younger men. Mostly men.

I'll have another helping of dog.

These days I spend most of my time in tight skirts thinking about nuclear annihilation up on the Hwang Mangeyong bridge.

Once you've seen the Kim Sister's Topless Review on the strip in Vegas it's hard to get that darned thing out of your head. Yeah, Kim Rich Un, Kim Kung Fu and Kimmie Rhodes tantalize and delight with their rich, exotic harmonies. I think I'll have some more tofu.

Too Tight

Poor old Gandhi. If the Hindu assassin's bullets hadn't gotten him first, TIME's young girl scandal was waiting. I suppose lust would have surely done me in, too, if I weren't so awkward socially. Oh, I have no regrets.

Of course I would like to think that I would be better at it all given another chance. Of course. I wouldn't.

I wouldn't.

Hillbillies, Barflies and Jutterbigs

You never forget the shock of foil on a filling. The thrill of gazing into the lights, knowing that thousands are looking back, never dims. The helpless elation that buckles your knees as you fall in love, in my experience, trumps all other memories.

Is there anyone out there who doesn't crumble when that song plays in the background in the grocery store? 

Oh, I know perfectly well that it's just biology. It was a central part of the design so that life would perpetuate. Something that would make sex more desirable than goofy golf. Napping. Television.

If falling in love is the pinnacle of life then I suppose that the end of love must be the nadir.

Those memories? More precious than rare jewels or more useless than tits on a bull?

Who knows? Who cares?