Nothing Good is Going to Happen Today

I have learned how to control the universe. After decades of searching the world, reading dusty and forgotten books, seeking gurus and meditating until my legs went to sleep, I have found The Way. And I will now share it with you.
It began many years ago when I still smoked cigarettes. I noticed that when, in a restaurant with friends, we would place our order and it would always take too long for the food to come. I would get impatient and light up a smoke. Of course, as soon as I would fire it up, the waitress would come with our food.
Over the years I put two and two together (I'm a slow learner). And I am finally ready to share the Secrets of the Universe with you. Of course, as always, there is a cost involved.
If you are waiting for an important call and the phone just won't ring . . . get in the shower.
If you are waiting for someone to pick you up to go do something fun . . . get out a project and spread it out on the table. Note; there is a mathematical inverse to this: the bigger the project, the quicker the result. (I actually tried this once and it worked perfectly. My friends frowned at me for not being ready because I was running around putting things away.)
In other words, don't get prepared for good things to happen. Just act like you are killing time like it's another wasted day, and good news will walk through the door. The difficult part is that the universe will know if you are faking it so you have to develop mental discipline. Home Chicken knows this rule. Just check her out on the side bar on this page for this date.
And remember, nothing good's going to happen today.

And Then The Rains Came

Isn't it amazing how thrilled most of us were when the Democrats regained a certain amount of power recently? It felt as if the rains had returned after a six-year drought. But, really, it's all a matter of contrast. We have only returned some checks and balances to a republican party drunk with power. A party that chipped away at our bill of rights and constitution, invaded any country that has those suspicious A-rabs in it and spent our money like drunken sailors.
We still don't have a great amount of power in our government. I mean, having a nearly equal say in our nation's affairs is where we've been many times in the past. And often, in those situations, not much got done because of the constant tug-o-war with the conservatives.
And I will put forward that the neo-cons (as in con job) have never cared for democracy. They have often succeeded in tweaking a fair vote by numerous dirty tricks in order to scare poor people away from the polls, including phone harassment, voter booth shifting and vote tampering. (Can you say Florida, kids?). I always thought it was the pinnacle of hypocrisy for them to call liberals un-American.
Still, even though they don't seem to know it yet, Bush and Company have at least been slowed down a bit. Maybe, just maybe, the drought is over. We can use the rain.

The Birth of Merlin

On our trip to the Southwest a few weeks ago, we went to Jazz Night at a local club in Bisbee, Arizona. We didn’t expect much because it was a little town in the boonies. How good could the jazz be?
The club was called the “Old Tymers Club”. We were surprised to find that every possible space of the walls was covered with framed photos of bikers. I mean literally hundreds of photos. It was definitely a theme. And indeed there were quite a few bikes out front and quite a few bikers inside.
When the band began to play we were shocked at how good they were. This band would have fit right in within the depths of Manhattan or Chicago. As it turns out, they did do much time in big cities but they now made their home nearby.
Over a beer I told Paula of my idea to rewrite the King Arthur legend, only I would tweak all of the characters in a rather twisted way; maybe the king would be a space-case, the prince would be gay, etc., etc. You get the idea.
I began to notice a graying biker sitting at the next table. His hair was cut short. He wore a black, leather sort-of Greek cap turned around. He wore a vest over a Stugis, South Dakota T-shirt. He showed his experience in his face but in a healthy way. He looked tough but mellow, wirey yet relaxed.
We started toying with the idea that he would be the model for Merlin the Magician; brilliant, grumpy and just a little crazy. We thought it was a fabulous idea and we were pleased with ourselves.
Later, as I’m taking a leak in the men’s room, this very guy comes in to use the other urinal. Being behind some beers and not having much sense anyway, I struck up a conversation with him. I had the nerve to tell him of our plan to write this story and that we were going to use him as a model for Merlin. I had no idea how he would react.
He smiled and told me he liked the idea. Then he added that in his whole life he had only gotten one tattoo. He rolled up his sleeve to show me a fantastic, multi-colored rendition of Merlin the Magician and added that that was his tag, his nickname. We both broke out laughing and as we left the john, we shook hands and went our separate ways.
The story is now in progress and I already know just what Merlin is going to be like.