Satellite Radio Quandry

Well, just when I thought I was on the cutting edge with an MP3 player,...satellite radio comes along. Now I am wondering whether to trade up to an Ipod or to go with a MYFI satellite receiver or the like of small hand held units that can go into your home or your car as well. It will record 5 hours of music so you can use it like an Ipod when exercising or running(otherwise you would be SOL since it needs some type of antenna facing south or you won't get anything under a roof, or so I hear). Not sure. A few months ago, Consumer Reports said that the technology would get better and they advised to wait a little longer since the hand held units pick up was spotty at times and bad at other times. Please advise some more!

IPOD-A-GO-GO

I needed some diversion for my run the other day. I saw Holden's i-pod laying there on the table, so I took it to the gym. I knew music would help time go by more quickly as I was placing myself on the implement of torture known as the treadmill. I was not ready for what I was about to hear or that it would give a whole new meaning to my idea of an implement of torture. There were no bad lyrics, and even some good ones,...some nice rythmns and beats and tunes and harmonies and bass lines,...etc. etc.,...but then there was screaming. Not the Beatles varitey of screaming in "Shake it up Baby" or even the Elvis Costello style of screaming, like in the beginning of "Man Out of Time" or even The Blind Boys of Alabama and their spiritual screaming in their early recordings from the 40's,....but this was blood curdling screaming of lyrics that had been so sweetly sung only a couple of measures previous. These formerly sane musicians had seemed to have lost the battle with their psycho evil sides and were now yelling at the tops of their lungs,....at me! It was a personal affront, I thought. I flashed back to junior high and bringing home a poor grade in algebra for my parents to sign and send back. But my parents didn't seem quite as furious as these musicians,...and my parents had every right to be that angry, but I don't even know this band,...what right do that have to be speaking to me in these tones? I really don't think my son has any right to claim that I ever yell at him,...the levels of volume and aggitation in my voice are no match for these young abusive boy musicians. Maybe this is one reason why kids have such attitudes and why it takes so much to break through their tough exoskeletons and really get to them. I think next time I am wanting to express myself to my son, I will pick up one of his guitars and grind and scream away,...and who knows? He may listen then.

P.S. Beware of Hawthorne Heights and Silverstein, two of my son's favorite screaming "teen angst" bands. If you see their LP drop on the turntable YOU run screaming from the room before they scream first!(sorry I'm listening to 70's music and went a little too retro, but you know what I mean,...before their file downloads get outa there!)

The Razor's Edge

Well, I am sporting a new fancy phone,...well, it's not new, it's used. It's in good shape, I know the previous owner,...it was my son. He had a much nicer phone than his parents, but he couldn't keep up with it. A few days ago there was a knock on the door and our house guest answered and a lady asked if anyone had lost a cell phone in our house. He said no, then thought to ask what kind of phone it was and asked to see it. The lady said it was a Motorola Razor(I know, I know, what kind of fool buys a Razor for his 13 year old,....an only child's parent, that's who), and Michael said, that's Holden's. She had found it sitting on the curb, where it had been for at least two days, possibly three. Well, I think I was more upset about it than Holden,...isn't that typical of kids today? But I guarantee, when I was a kid if it had been possible for me to lose something as valuable and cool as a cellphone, not to mention top of the line cellphone, I would have walked the streets every night all night long until I knew where it was. I would have worried myself into a record as the youngest person to have an MI. And I would have tried to cut a deal with my Mom and Dad to spare my life, if the MI didn't kill me. My son's reaction,...."Well, it only costs $30." I almost blacked out there was so much fury running thru my brain. I collected myslef and calmly explained, at the top of my lungs, how his phone on the black market in China probably costs more than $30. So, I had to do something. I had told him before that if he couldn't keep up with the phone that he would lose it either out right lose it himself somewhere or I would take it away. Well, we thought he had lost it for good, but when it turned up, I took it over, until he can prove that he can keep up with my bottom of the line, free with the plan phone. He was pretty decent about it. He told me where it was and proceeded to tell me that I shouldn't be too disappointed because the picture qualities on the phone were not that good, nor did it get good reception, nor was the sound quality very good. I told him that he should be happy because it sounded as if this wasn't a punishment nor teaching moment at all,...since he thinks he still has the superior phone(mine) because the razor was less than the cutting edge cellphone in his mind.

The Huron Carol

This is a new favorite Christmas Carol. I have heard it for years on a couple of Christmas CD's but have never paid attention to the lyrics. The composer placed the story of the birth of Jesus into their own locale, amongst the native French Canadians, Algonquin and Huron Indians(eh, you Hoser!). There's a great movie about missionaries to the Algonquin Indians of Canada, called The Black Robes. Algonquins were pretty fierce, according to that French Canadian film. Anyway, the tune is in minor key,...so it's not happy and cheerful sounding, which throws some folks off, but I think it really fits the lyrics and the area in which it was written. My attention was called to this song as an excellent choir at the Trinity Episcopal Cathedral in downtown Birmingham sang it at the Christmas Eve service my brother and I attended this year. As we left on that misty evening, the bells were pealing and I couldn't help but think that the bells were ringing in celebration and proclamation of the birth of our Savior, as the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

Definition:Gitchi Manitou (or Gichi-Manidoo), in traditional Algonquian First Nations culture, is the Great Spirit, the Creator of all things and the Giver of Life.

The "Huron Carol" (or "'Twas in the Moon of Wintertime") is a Christmas hymn, written in 1643 by Jean de Brébeuf, a Christian missionary at Sainte-Marie among the Hurons. Brébeuf wrote the lyrics in the native language of the Huron people; the song's original Huron title is "Jesous Ahatonhia". The song's melody is a traditional French folk song, "Une Jeune Pucelle" ("A Young Maid").
The English version of the hymn, in place of the more traditional Nativity story, uses imagery familiar to North American aboriginal cultures of the time of composition: Jesus is born in a "lodge of broken bark", and wrapped in a "robe of rabbit skin". He is surrounded by hunters instead of shepherds, and the Magi bring him "fox and beaver pelts" instead of the more familiar gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The hymn also uses a traditional Huron name, Gitchi Manitou, for God. The original lyrics are now sometimes modified to use imagery more familiar to Christians who are not part of the Huron culture.
Brébeuf was martyred in 1649. He is one of the eight Canadian Martyrs.
English lyrics were written by Jesse Edgar Middleton in 1926. The song remains a common Christmas hymn in Canadian churches of many Christian denominations. Bruce Cockburn has also recorded a rendition of the song.

'Twas in the moon of wintertime when all the birds had fled
That mighty Gitchi Manitou sent angel choirs instead;
Before their light the stars grew dim and wondering hunters heard the hymn,
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

Within a lodge of broken bark the tender babe was found;
A ragged robe of rabbit skin enwrapped his beauty round
But as the hunter braves drew nigh the angel song rang loud and high
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

The earliest moon of wintertime is not so round and fair
As was the ring of glory on the helpless infant there.
The chiefs from far before him knelt with gifts of fox and beaver pelt.
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

O children of the forest free, O seed of Manitou
The holy Child of earth and heaven is born today for you.
Come kneel before the radiant boy who brings you beauty peace and joy.
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

Link to Lyrics in the native language and an MP3 of native Canadians singing the song in their language. This is much more dissonant and stark than the version I heard Christmas Eve, but I imagine it is as close to the original composition as anything:

http://firstnationhelp.com/huron.html

Running Rural

I run. I try to run regularly. I'm only successful some of the time. I'm not a good runner. I have a huge mental block about just running. I can run without mental difficulties when there are other things to occupy my mind,....like some other guys kicking a football or dribbling a basketball or smackin a softball,...or a big junkyard dog chasing me,...but ONLY running is a big hurdle for me to get over. Music helps, or maybe thinking about political or religious issues which are passionate to me. I run best on the treadmill,...but there ain't no treadmills in rural Alabama,...none that I can use anyway. Over Christmas break I develop bad eating habits,...eating everything in sight. I have tried to counter that bad habit with a good habit,...running. Since I have no access to a treadmill,...I must take to the countryside of rural NE Alabama. My In-Laws live on a mountain, so in the winter the wind can cut you in half,...it wasn't windy,..but was pretty cold. I didn't really push myself,...maybe I should have, but I was just glad I was out there. Early morning Tuesday, December 27, there was a heavy frost. While stretching I heard Caroline Chickadees, Crows, Wrens, Cardinals, Woodpeckers, all urging me onward to my goal(they were probably just bitchin about how cold it was, like me). In the distance I heard the babbling of the creek and it grew more faint as I started my rural run. I had mapped out my route last year(I was an irregular runner then also). My brother, Richard, is a regular runner. He lives in NYC, and smells all the city smells,....bus diesel fumes, street vendors hot dogs, subways, human urine . There are country smells also. The cold stifled some of the smells,...but some are too strong to be put down by the cold. First I saw the chicken houses, then I heard them,...a cacauphony of farm noise(or maybe more like a ca"cackle"phony or ca"crow"phony),...but the smell,....whoa! The lady down the road from my in-laws raises fryers and layers for "Koch Farms". That was about 50 yards into my run. In the next quarter mile I was into a new dung smell,...cow. Not as disturbing as chicken,...but it ranks,...not quite as bad as pig, which is in the top 5,....and which I thankfully didn't run into on this route. There were other more pleasant odors,...pine,...smoke from wood burning fireplaces,...fresh air. I ran,...but I walked some too. I'm not a good runner,...but I figure I'm good enough for me. I won't be running a marathon, but maybe what little bad running I do will give me a marathon heart beat,...or the energizer heart beat that keeps going and going and going.

Morning Mississippi

This is the morning haze and frost of Fulton, MS, small town about 30 miles east of Tupelo near the Alabama state line. Frost almost looks like snow.

It's a Dog's Life

This is my aunt's dog, Sheba. Sheba is the happiest dog yet she seems to have not that much to be happy about. It's about 34 degrees in this photo and probably the eve prior it got down to the upper 20's. She's an outside dog and never is permited inside(country dogs are NOT allowed inside for any reason, some would think it like letting your cows in the house,...not my way of thinking, but it exists). Yet look how blurry her tail is. That's because it's wagging,...and she does her version of smiling too,....alot. More than I do and I know I have a much better lifestyle. Maybe I could learn a valuable lesson from Sheba and wag my tail and smile more often, even when I think I've got a dog's life. Merry Christmas Sheba!

Christmas Memories Already

This was a family photo from our Christmas in Texas prior to hittin' the road for Alabama Monday, 12/19. We were blessed to have Eleanor and Michael Walker spend some holiday moments with us. The other two are Amy and Holden. You can use your imagination to move me from behind the camera to the composition, if you wish(maybe over Michael's right shoulder would provide some balance for the photo). Merry Christmas! Attend a church on Christmas Sunday that isn't closed in honor of Jesus's birth!(my little pet peeve that I will not go in to).

Merry Christmas to you and yours! This is one of my favorite songs of the season. We have it on cd and prior to cd's we had it on tape, both renditions from the King's College Cambridge Choir,...in England. Wouldn't be Christmas without it!

The Infant King
Words: Sabine Baring-Gould
Music: Basque Carol

1. Sing lullaby!Lullaby baby, now reclining,Sing lullaby!Hush, do not wake the Infant King.Angels are watching, stars are shiningOver the place where he is lying.Sing lullaby!
2. Sing lullaby!Lullaby baby, now a-sleeping,Sing lullaby!Hush, do not wake the Infant King.Soon will come sorrow with the morning,Soon will come bitter grief and weeping:Sing lullaby!
3. Sing lullaby!Lullaby baby, now a-dozing,Sing lullaby!Hush, do not wake the Infant King.Soon comes the cross, the nails, the piercing,Then in the grave at last reposing:Sing lullaby!
4. Sing lullaby!Lullaby! is the babe a-waking?Sing lullaby!Hush, do not stir the Infant King.Dreaming of Easter, gladsome morning,Conquering Death, its bondage breaking:Sing lullaby!

New Englander

Well, I have been in New England now since Tuesday(Boston and New York). Nice place to visit(in Boston on business, in NYC visiting my brother). These are much more beautiful than the state within which I now reside. Incredible amounts of significant history,...not that Texas history is insignificant,...it's just that you can't compare the founding fathers to the Alamo crew,...and not that that was a less important or somewhat of a second class act of patriotism,...it's just that you couldn't have the second without the presidence set by the first. I had clam chowder and lobster and lobster bisque and last, but certainly not least, Boston creme pie. The first two were good, the third was too salty, and the fourth was worth the trip to Boston independent of anything else. Took the train from Boston to NYC, to visit my brother. Tons of snow this am(Friday),...but it melted off. Saw Matt, Katie and Al as I stood in the huge flakes of snow getting drenched as it kept collecting on the ledges of my coat as it draped on my body. I would occasionally dust it off,...but to no avail. It was coming down that hard. I was so soaked, I had to take the NBC studio tour and saw the SNL set and the Conan O' Brian Show set(really smaller than they appear, amazing). NYC is fun, but I will definitely have to go back to Boston. So much history, so little time. I was only able to take a couple of steps on the Freedom Trail. Still have a day and a portion(Sunday) left here. Drank a martini(or two) in the Algonquin Hotel(photo of lobby bar above) in Manhattan, where several famous patrons drank them, including author, Dorothy Parker, whose quote graces their cocktail napkins, "I love a martini - but two at the most, Three I'm under the table; Four, I'm under the host." Hope she had someone to pay for those four martini's. I think the $14 included a surcharge for atmosphere. You can't feel that atmosphere like you can feel a martini.

Racoon in the Rafters,...
Bats in the Belfry, Cats in the Cradle, Man in the Moon

Our house is a funky 1959 home with exposed beams throughout the structure. This morning at 5:50 AM as I was heading for the gym, I walked out to get the paper and my motion sensor lights came on(normal). I happened to glance back at my car,...and noticed a furry tail in the rafters above the storage area, above my car. It was black and grey striped. I moved in for a closer look. It was a racoon! He was just lounging on the beam, probably just settling in for a long winters nap(it's chilly this morning). He seemed to have the same expression, staring into the bright flood lights, that my son has when I first turn the lights on in his room on a school day morning. But he must have known the light cycle, that they would go off in 10 minutes,...cause he wasn't moving. He didn't seem afraid of me,...and for good reason. Actually for two good reasons,....1. sharp teeth and 2. sharp claws that racoons are not afraid to use, especially if they are awakened from a sound sleep by a bright light. The photo is dim due to inadequate light(which is why he chose that spot for sleeping in the day,...they are nocturnal you know). But this morning he was "lit up" with my two 150 watt flood lights, which well illuminated the subject. He looked friendly, cute and cuddly,...but I know better. I even spoke to him(first I checked to see if I had any early rising neighbors to judge me looney) . I just spoke two words,...."kill rats!",...seems we have had a dry summer and the rat population has increased("we haven't had rain in months!", cried Minnie, then with passion in her eyes she grabbed Micky by the lapels and lustily whispered, "take me now you big rat, you!"). Then I went to the gym, after my work out I picked up the kids at 7:15 to take to school. I relayed the story to them and they wanted to stop and see if he/she/it was still there(our house is on the way),..and it was still snoozing, facing away from the light. One carpooler is a 5th grade boy and a big hunter, said he could exterminate it for me. I said no thanks,...the racoon may be exterminating for me("kill rats!"). He was still out there when I returned from the school run at 8. I don't think he's moving until evening(they are nocturnal, you know). Sleep well little racoon and appreciate my peaceful and gentle hand, for surely my ancestors would have knocked you in the head with a shovel and thrown you in the oven with some taters.

Thanksgiving for One

Well,...the big experiment is over,...and I have survived being alone at Thanksgiving. Though I had multiple invitations for Thanksgiving Dinner(wouldn't want anyone to think I smell bad or don't have any friends,...I smell good and have plenty of friends, it was "dealer's choice"). I cooked breakfast and watched a little pre-parade,...then turned to Turner Classic Movies for the rest of the day. Kind of just kept that on all day. Didn't switch to football or even channel surf prior to deciding on TCM. Couldn't really tell you the movies I watched,...it was almost like background music. I kind of cleaned up the house and vacumed and washed some clothes(they're still in the dryer). I actually walked out of my house only three times: to get the newspaper, to put something in my car and to fire up the grill for hot dogs(no turkey for me yesterday, but that's okay). Thought about going to a movie, but decided no. Thought about getting some cat litter and then I decided that I would do that on my way back from work on Friday. I didn't even read the newspaper I brought in,...nor did I look at the sale flyers for the day after Thanksgiving sales. I didn't do much of anything. I baked an apple pie,...from scratch,...I even made the crust! It was okay,...nothing to write home about. I spent most of the afternoon working on the crust mostly but the pie was out of the oven by 3:45. I am glad I did it,...but the results didn't warrant the effort to do it again. Making crust from scratch is a dying art,...kind of like drinking buttermilk. That desire for a cold glass of buttermilk was handed down to my mother, but stopped on a dime right there. The stuff hasn't touched my lips in it's raw state. Waffles or biscuits couldn't be better with buttermilk,...but that's the only way I will take it. If I could have worked it into my apple pie recipe,...that would have been okay,...but then maybe not, cause that would have meant that I would have had to go further than 10 steps from my door on Thanksgiving,...and wasn't gonna happen. Thanksgiving alone. I didn't overeat,...I didn't have to listen to listen to stories I didn't want to hear, I didn't have to do anything, except what I wanted. Thanksgiving for one,...ain't so bad.

King of the Smoothies

I have been self drubbed with this title. For years our poor blender has sat in a corner, unrecognized for its abilities and therefore, underused, neglected. At one point, we needed the counter space and decided to place it in a closet or in a cabinet. Well, that's all changed. I have put it throught its paces for the past three months. I decided my fruit intake could be better, and found the blender to be an essential part of the equation to assist me in accomplishing my new, healthy and attainable goal. This morning I saw my banana purchase was a little overkill and there were some getting ripe beyond use,...so instead of making banana pudding or banana bread, I chose an easier much more healthy two-banana smoothie. I usually have a medley of both fresh and frozen fruit(the frozen fruit chills and thickens)but you can vary your blend to accomodate rapidly ripening fruit. I have found that I can drink 4 fruit servings in a smoothie in the morning. I think an ideal intake is 5 servings of fruits or vegetables in a day.

I have contemplated diversifying,...maybe in the evenings adding an adult beverage of choice. I think that would make me the daquari king. Next I may try tomatoes or carrots. Then it's a natural progression to meats and other vegetables. That reminds me of some documentary I saw about Native Americans and how the Navajo women would chew food for their babies, kind of like certain birds regurgitating for their little ones.

I might look at this as preparation for old age. I heard when you get to the nursing home or without your teeth(or both), it all goes in a blender. You will drink your breakfast, lunch and dinner through a straw. Better get a better blender or a bigger straw.

Pixelized Poetry

I was scanning Holden's "Smaug"poem from The Hobbit, trying to make it available for this blog, without typing it(I'm lazy). However, this is the product that I pulled from my scanner, but it is not what was on the glass. These were words, black on white paper as normal. Strange,...this bit of a technical difficulty reminds me of the famous cubist painting of "Nude Descending a Staircase". Oh!, I see her now. There she is in the upper right corner. See her? Va va va voom! Huba, huba! Woooooooeeeeee! Amazing detail of that ribbon draped ever so delicately across her bosom.

Politicians Royale

By accusing their critics of playing politics,...our President and Vice President have played politics. By saying that those who do not agree with the war in Iraq and question the reasoning behind it should NOT SPEAK, they have made the most unamerican statement. Our country was founded on several basic freedoms, one of which was freedom to be critical of government officials without having our heads lopped off physically or rhetorically. They would rather those who disagree with their lack of strategy to exit Iraq keep their mouths shut. They say some of the critics were the ones who voted to go,....well, isn't there a time to regroup and rethink,....or do we just continue to headlong into a war where real American kids are really dying with no end in sight. It's as though we have given Bush and Cheney and the Iraqi people a blank check on our children's lives and they will fill in the number later. The time has come to look at our strategy and reassess. Bush claimed victory in Iraq long ago,...obviously too early,....yet we are still there. And we are supposed to just let that happen without some accountability? Now's the time to be accountable for the reason we got into the war and the intelligence utilized to support the action and for a sooner-to-be-implemented-than-later exit strategy and for the reason you didn't plan that before jumping into Iraq with both feet. If Bush claims his critics language against the war to be reprehensible, then his critics can call his language to get us into Iraq reprehensible as well. I guarantee his reprehensible language has cost us more lives that the reprehensible language of his detractors. Please don't misunderstand. I DO support our troops, I just don't support the guy who put them there or why he put them there(there are plenty of tyrants even with nuclear capabilities, yet we aren't rushing into war with them). I support our troops so much that I want them to respected and honored for fighting for MY freedom, not Iraq's( I will never believe that Iraq's freedom is MY freedom anymore than I will believe that their economy is our economy). I support our troops so much that I want them to live and come back to their families alive and whole and well. We must believe that our government leaders(Republicans and Democrats alike) are fallable humans who can and do make poor decisions,...otherwise we are only deceiving ourselves into a false sense of security. We the people have every right to voice our concerns and to hold ANY public servant accountable,...for every word spoken and for every action taken.

Holden's Psycho-delic

Just in Time!

Well,...it seems that winter has arrived before fall here in Texas. Oh,...I'm sure we have a couple of 80 degree days still out there somewhere. It was freezing in some areas last night, but who knows,....tomorrow we could be at the swimming pool. I brought in my three plants that I care about,...one was a gift for my birthday, the other two were on sale at Home Depot for $5. My basil I left on the porch and just covered them with a garbage bag. It seems to be on its last leg.

We had a blustery day Tuesday when this cold front blew in. At 6AM my car thermometer said 75 and at 715 AM, it had dropped to 55. The wind was strong, it seemed colder. I noticed my pine and my pecan trees had some loose limbs that had been dislodged by the wind and fell to the ground after being suspended from other limbs all summer long.

We had very little rain this summer. I gave up on my grass in the past couple months and stopped watering. My neighbor's yard with the auto sprinklers is lush and green,....an oasis compared to my Mojave wanna-be yard. I am sure my grass prays for a breeze to blow some of the mist from the auto sprinklers its way. I still have a strong stand of St. Augustine in the front, which is what I care about. I can now turn my attention toward next year and buy a big bag of Scott's Bonus S, the fertilizer made especially for St. Augustine. Maybe this year I will be self disciplined and improve my yard attitude and apply it twice, as the bag recommends.

The sans rain situation was so bad this summer that we have one less tree in the front. One of the ornamental large leafed evergreens croaked and I cut it down. It seemed like a small tree, until I started cutting it down. I always wondered why people hired men to take out trees in their yard, much bigger than the little one I removed. Now I know why. Well, maybe it will feel like Thanksgiving next week instead of Major League Baseball's Opening Day(though one year it was quite brisk on Opening Day). Here's hoping cool weather is here to stay for a while. (photo is from winter two years ago)

Smaug

Holden had to write a poem based on The Hobbit. He was able to illustrate a scene for extra credit and this was his illustration. He got a 110. I personally think this is worth more than 10 extra points, but I'm his Dad and who am I to question the grading system? I particularly like his stylized fire. I'm not sure where he gleaned that, but I think it's cool. I give him 200!

Pleasing my Dad

You never get so old that you don't want to please your dad. I still do and I'm 44 years old and at least 10 hours away. Maybe it's not so much pleasing him, but letting him know that you learned something from him and that you can do some of the same stuff he did while you were growing up,.....fixing stuff. It's sad, but if I need help on a household project I will call him and get his opinion. And if I am successful at one of those projects,...he's the first guy I call. To sort of brag. Like once our clothes dryer would spin but only blow cool air. I think I called him to diagnose the situation, which he said was the heater coil,...and sure enough, when I opened it up I saw the obvious break in the coil. I quickly looked up the nearest Sears parts store and called them and ran down and picked up a new coil and installed it. I think it was like $36.00. When I turned the dryer on and felt the wave of heat I was shocked. It had seemed so easy. I usually run into at least three snags in my pursuit of fixdom! So I celebrated like I had become a father again! And guess what I did next,....yep, made a call to Birmingham, AL to not only brag to Dad that I fixed the dryer in what seemed like record time, but to also discuss the considerable savings I had just made by completing the task myself and not hiring someone to fix it for me. The timeliness was also discussed, cause I guarantee I would not have been able to get someone out to the house before a couple of days. Yeah, Dad's the guy I want to impress, however, just looking at his record of fix-it victories, I don't know if he really is impressed or could be. My record is a little league record when compared to his major league record. But he still expresses his big league pride in me at 44,....just like he did years ago in little league,...over my trivial success,...but maybe just my call is his Big League success. Love you Dad.

Three legged Cat

Three nights ago we were filling my wife's van up with gas,....$2.19 per gallon. I was pumping gas when my wife comes around the corner with tears in her eyes asking if I had seen the poor three legged cat that was looking for food. She pointed me in the direction of a ditch into which the cat had darted. I went over caught a glimpse and it shot like a rocket across the ditch to a business adjacent to the gas station. I started down the steep slope to cross over the ditch to where ole tripod was,....and he dashed even further away toward a car dealer that was next to the business, that was next to the gas station. I still had compassion on the poor creature, thinking of my two cats, fat and sassy, probably picking their teeth in a lounge chair in front of the TV,...so I decided to break into their new bag of food I had just purchased and share the wealth with ole prong. As much as I could make of him/her(?)was it was a calico missing its right hind leg below the thigh. It didn't slow him down much. I grabbed two large handfuls of "IAMS for indoor cats"(hope it's not poison to an outdoor cat)out of the new 10 lb bag and started down the steep slope to place the food on a concrete sidewalk in front of the business next door to the station. It was steep, as I mentioned, but I made it across without much trouble,....mostly applying the breaks as I went down, but letting off enough to have enough speed to coast up the other side of the ditch to the sidewalk. A little awkward, but no problems, no dry cat food losses on my journey. I placed the food in a neat pile on the corner and looked toward the used car dealer, where I had last seen ole stump, but saw no sign of her/him. I looked at the pile of food and thought it didn't look like much. I wanted to get more, but needed to check on my gas pump,...it had probably kicked off because it was full. So I made it down the other side of the ditch, headed back, toward the steeper side, but I didn't have enough speed, so halfway up the steep side of the ditch, I stalled and began to notice that it was a little slick and muddy and I didn't want to put my hands down(though they had just been holding cat food). I started to lose my balance, but thought I could recover without putting my hands down. I felt my face flushed red with the realization that I could possibly be falling when my foot slipped out of the clogs I was wearing and began turning over, further throwing off my balance. There was a black guy sitting by the pay phone at the edge of the gas station lot in a beat up pinto watching the whole charade,...and I'm praying that it's not Alan Funt in disguise with his video camera. It was like everything was in slow motion, like in the action movies like The Matrix when the director wants us to see every blow of the fight. My arms were flailing trying to assist me in regaining my balance to make it the rest of the way up the steep side of the ditch without putting my hands down in the semi mud(in hind sight, I don't really know why keeping sanitary hands was such an uncompromisable position). Well, it seemed like 5 minutes, but was probably more like a split second, but I finally gained some footing and made a couple of steps forward and one more back and then the rest of the way up the steep slope and without getting my hands muddy. I had escaped a fall and injury,.....or so I thought. The next day, my back had a slight twinge of pain,...two days later it was more severe, three days later it was difficult to get out of bed without shouting expletives,....but I did(without shouting expletives). So, I took three ibuprofen(a miracle drug in my opinion) and the pain subsided greatly. I love Advil! So much so that I'm searching for an Advil t-shirt or baseball cap, bumper sticker, to proudly sport as this drugs biggest fan. I hope ole Hop-a-long enjoyed his lite snack,...I will probably look him up the next time I buy gas there, but I will definitley stay on this side of the ditch.