Friday, January 18, 2019


Sorry wrong number
Have any of you tried to call me
and failed? One of my hang ups
is talking on the phone. which is
due to the fact that I'm antisocial
at heart. Some of you might be
taken aback by said confession.
Yet the truth is I'm actually a bit
of a loner. Self sufficient, there
is nothing that makes me happier
than to never chat on the phone
again. Sadly nowadays anybody
sans a phone is totally out of it.
No wonder we're all on call.
Private line
Our lives should be easier because of
technology. However it only makes
life more complex. In olden times if
you weren't at home the guy on the
other end called back at a later time.
Thus the responsibility of keeping in
touch was theirs - not yours. We all
drove around in peace and quiet sans
"checkin in" with the boss, spouse,
or kids. One could even take a daily
dump sans answering the call, being
text, or mistakenly turning on Face
Time to reveal things best left unsaid!
Tone deaf
The ability to chat up whomever,
whenever, wherever holds little
allure to me. Recently I "lost" my
phone. And suddenly I was able
to control my intake, output, and
peace of mind. However there's
no reason that can't happen daily.
All of our communication aids
are for our convenience. And in
truth those reaching out to touch
you can wait. Ultimately it's my
decision whether to pick you up.
Or live my life as I see fit...
A job well hung
While my residual schoolboy desire
to please still lurks deep within, I'm
not going to answer the phone just
because it rings. Nor will I listen to
your voice mail upon receipt. Now
that I've had the chance to collect
my thoughts, I've decided that the
majority of daily blathering is for
naught. Thus I plan to maintain full
control of my peace of mind once
my new phone arrives. While the
initial withdrawal was tough, I'm
not answering no matter who calls!

Thursday, January 17, 2019


Wall to wall
Many Americans were raised in a wall
to wall den of iniquity. Post World War
broadlooms covered our floors. Be they
sculpted, marled, shagged, or patterned.
Thankfully in the sixties David Hicks
stepped in with bold geometric carpets
(above). Yet that didn't stop some from
going up the walls or to pot by laying
carpet in their baths. Fortunately we've
now come to our senses and gone bare.

Click below to read the latest

Wednesday, January 16, 2019


Slow start
There are some mornings when I simply can't
get my act together. Whether that's because
I've woken up on the wrong side of the bed
or some lunar force is screwing me up doesn't
matter. What bugs me is when I find it almost
impossible to make a pot of coffee or worse -
type in my password. Today's start has been
as slow as molasses. Leaving me to feel as if
I'm mired in a pit of muck. Fortunately days
such as today will quickly pass. Thus even
if I move at a snail's pace - I'm confident that
somehow I'll get all that I need to accomplish
done before the sun sets. Or at least I hope so.
Daily grind
How do you start your day? We all have some
sort of daily routine we follow in order to get
things moving. If you're working, some one
else sets your schedule. Thus for years I was
up and out of the house before six a.m. Now
I'm left to my own devices. Which in my case
means that first I get the coffee going. Next
I extinguish our outdoor lights. Then once the
java is brewed I sit down to read "the paper"
on my computer. Shortly thereafter I hit my
in-box. And then about an hour later I'm wide
awake and ready to start accomplishing things.
Well.... that is unless I don't get distracted.
Out to brunch
As the sun rises the worst thing I can do is turn
on the TV. Along with political shenanigans, I
have finally embraced the reality that I cannot
"multi-task." Thus the only way to accomplish
anything is to focus on the day's "to-do" list.
Otherwise if left to my own free will I'll fall
down some capricious rabbit hole. The fact is
I'm easily distracted. Or worse yet, ready and
willing to do anything except the task at hand.
Which explains why most days the sun sets
before I feel like I'm finally in gear. Or have
realized that I'd better get moving on making
dinner. It's a viscous, never ending cycle.
Next please...
But I digress. Back to this morning's dilemma.
I'm not sure why I'm lethargic. What is driving
my inability to perform at an acceptable level?
Am I suffering from a mental block or am I up
against some physical barrier to success? All
I know is that I've spilled the beans (coffee),
deleted e-mails I shouldn't have (thank God
for "trash"), and seem unable to exit from my
funk. A pot of coffee later, my haze is slowly
lifting. The good news being that I've already
checked one thing off my list. Writing my two
thousandth, two hundred and forty third blog.
Now... what should I do next? Take a nap?!

Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Parental guidance required

Visiting hour
Yesterday it was absolutely beautiful here in
Lewistown, Montana. For the third day in a
row the sky was blue, the sun shone strong,
and the thermometer hovered in the low fifties.
A rare winter phenomena that to any seasoned
Montanan is a gift from God. And therefore if
nothing else makes one feel incredibly blessed
to live here. Inspired by some higher being,
I decided to stop by the cemetery while driving
past. To tidy up and check on my folk's graves.
Which reminded me that on February 13th my
Mother will be gone ten years. Quite surprising
given it seems like she left us only yesterday...

Gone today, back tomorrow
Losing one's parents has to be amongst the
most primal of experiences. Yet given that
life is if nothing else a cycle of transitions,
it's a phenomena we all go through. Letting
go is never easy. However my father's exit
was smoother as he'd battled Alzheimer's
for eighteen years. Hence when he finally
left us it was a relief. Given the man we'd
known and loved was gone long before his
body finally shut down. Whereas my Mom
was a force to be reckoned with until the
end. Causing my acceptance of losing her
to be a challenging and lengthy process.
From start to finish
Ultimately I've learned that our parents never
truly leave us. They were there from the very
beginning (or in my adopted case a few days
later). So why we assume that death takes our
beloved away is rather foolish. At one hundred
and a half Frank's father is still with us. But if
I'm honest so are my parents and Frank's mom.
That's because they are the basis for our life's
experiences. And hence a part of the core of
who we are. Meaning that after their physical
beings depart this world, their love lives on
deep within our souls. An integral element of
what, when, and why we are who we are.
Ghost whisperer
Not a day passes by that I don't think of them.
Whether that's spurred by a spectral visitation
or an old memory really doesn't matter. Each
flashback is simply confirmation of just how
important my parents were and still are to me.
I don't need to visit the "Long Island Medium"
to know that they continue to join me on life's
journey. Therefore every lesson Ive learned is
somehow connected to something they taught
me long ago. Howard and Ethel may be gone,
but they are NOT forgotten. Which proves that
our parent's love never dies. Well at least not
until their child joins them on the other side.

Monday, January 14, 2019


Out of order
There is no doubt we Americans are spoiled.
To a point that we no longer know just how
lucky we are. That is until our circumstances
change for the worse. On Christmas Day our
dishwasher broke. Leaving us not only with
a mound of dirty finery, but dish pan hands.
Fortunately our family pitched in and soon
it was all squeaky clean and put away. Yet
three weeks later our dishwasher still is not
working. All because of a missing link to
redemption that's still "on order". Meaning
that Frank and I have been up to our elbows
in soapsuds. And our bubble has been burst.
Liquid joy
In my memory, my parents actually considered
washing the dishes each evening to be a sort of
a bonding experience. Hence evert night they
stood together sink side and cleaned up their act.
Dad washed, Mom dried. And even after we got
a dishwasher, they continued to wash the dishes
before putting them into the machine for a rinse
cycle. Who knows what they talked about? All
I can recall is that they spent a half hour or so
immersed in conviviality. Thus while frustrated
with our lack of mechanical support - we tried
making dishing it out a special time each night.
One which sadly, neither has the patience for.
Double dipping
Our inability to dive in together is mostly my
fault. For the majority of my adult life I never
had to hand wash. I find the idea of scrubbing
and soaking rather tiresome. So I'm not fully
engaged in the process. All I want to do is get
it over with. Meaning that before Frank has
eaten half of his dinner - I start to clean up.
Leaving him to eat alone. However that's not
the worst of our compromised situation. You
see, if I'm totally honest I must admit that I'm
also not very good at it. Hence half the time,
Frank must re-wash my dishes a second time.
If at first Greg don't succeed, try, try again...
Back up plan
Hopefully our dishwasher is up and running by
the end of this week. However I'm not sure that
I won't miss taking a dip each night with Frank.
Hence I hope to find another way for the two
of us to bond on a nightly basis. Looking back
I realize that my parents leveraged their liquid
assets in more than one way on every evening.
Back in the day, they continued their private
chats behind closed doors while each of them
took their bath. Which has me thinking. Maybe
here's another way Frank and I can soak each
other for information. By scrubbing our backs
while the dishwasher does our dirty work!

Sunday, January 13, 2019

7th Day Surprise: DREAM HOUSE


Where would it be?
Our homes are inevitably where dreams come true.
Expressions of who and what we are.
So welcome to a happy place
Where it all comes together.
Home sweet home...