Typing Practice

A glorious Monday morning. (They are ever thus following a Bronco win.) The sky is a lush shade of a worn too many times white t-shirt and the smell of immanent rain mingles with the dog poop on the lawn to stir the senses and inspire deeply significant trivial thoughts.

Our house as you may or may not know is made of concrete. It has concrete floors, concrete walls and a concrete roof. Even some of our furniture is built-in with concrete. I have constructed a bar from concrete and RTGFKAR is building concrete bookshelves as we speak. I mention this only to suggest an explanation for the house's acoustics. Sound here is not dulled by soft surfaces. Like most people, I don't like sudden, unexpected, loud noises. They inspire instantaneous adrenaline rushes and exclamations like "What the F---!" and "Jesus Christ!" because I am not nearly composed enough to go British and calmly utter, "I say Old Chum, bit of a startle there, eh what?" You may also know or not know that we have three dogs, two of which (whom? same?) are attuned to noises in the Cosmos that no other man or beast can hear. When the Cosmos calls, our dogs answer...suddenly...loudly. It is a triumph of the human spirit that RTGFKAR, Woowoo Charly and I, still have a viable nerve or two left in our bodies, although, admittedly, none have gone unjangled.

(Okay I could have said it freaks me out when the dogs bark suddenly, but I need the typing practice.)

It is Monday and the active volcanoes that are my lungs are still spewing lava on a semi regular basis. My voice has gone from sounding roundly basso to a raspy baritone. I'm thinking about abandoning my search for the perfect "Hello Darling" of the country/western scene and shooting, instead, for the scratchy, throaty, soul sound of a James Brown or Janis Joplin. I am still limited by having only a three note range, but there must be a way around that.

I was drifting off to a movie the other night, dropping slowly into sleep like a hypnosis subject being put under, when I was suddenly aware there was a naked woman on my television screen. A thing like that requires some wakeful attention, so I yanked myself from the clutches of Napland to see what this was all about. Some sort of frat party was in progress in the movie and a very attractive nude young lady walks through the crowd and exits to an equally crowded patio. The camera pans to another part of the room where another naked young twenty-something turns to a companion and says, " I can't BELIEVE she's wearing the same thing I am! The companion, trying to appease her distraught friend, replies, "Yeah, but it looks a lot better on you." I stayed awake for the rest of the movie hoping for more good lines or, at least, more naked ladies, but that was the last of both. I never did get the title. Does anybody know what movie this is?

I am hoping to be well enough to hitch up the buckboard and go to Daveed for supplies tomorrow. We are perilously low in essentials like cereal, wine, dog food, wine, soup, wine, vegetables, wine, and paper products. Did I mention wine? There are some things essential to promoting good health.