Good Energy

Where The Men Are

Wednesday, September 5th, 2012

 

“They’re Not Where Carole And I Went”

My friend Carole and I go to brunch at a classy, rich golf resort down the mountain.

We sit on the up scale patio next to the golf course. There’s a vast green view filled with grass, oak trees, designer clouds in the sky and old men trying to put balls into little holes.

The table beside us has grandparents and four tiny children. The kids keep shrieking and knocking on the back of my chair and sometimes they step on my toes as they race around the tables. One little girl says to me, “Why do you have gray hair?”

“It’s platinum,” I say. “I have it because I’m lucky.”

Carole and I are pretty much OK with the childish revelry because we have grandkids and we know how they are.

However….Carole has been single for centuries and so have I. We think it would be fun to talk to a nice, eligible man once in awhile.

I had suggested we go where all the men go on a Sunday morning; to a fancy restaurant on an expensive golf course.

That idea isn’t working out too well. Especially since I have a stomach ache and can’t eat very much.

Carole and I are disappointed today but we ┬áhave been for years. We often go to luxury places and the men we have managed to meet have been disappointments. Like, they wear little tassels on their shoes and don’t exhibit any animal magnetism. Or, they are looking at these same places for rich women to take care of them, or to take advantage of women in some other ways.

A week or so later I stop at my brother Jim’s new place. He has moved his mobile kitchen, The 3rd St Grill, next to an old ┬ácountry convenience store right up the street from me. (more…)

Electric Johnny

Wednesday, August 15th, 2012

 

Johnny’s House

Johnny wears his hair in a long brown braid down his back. It touches his butt. One time, when he didn’t have a girlfriend to do it, he had me brush and braid his hair for him.

I have known Johnny since we were little, tiny kids. He is brilliant, unusual, kind of a hippy man and certainly a non conformist. He married for the first time a few years ago and now has his first child.

I’m at his house today which is on acres of land, hidden from view.

Outside and looking up to the sky, I gasp. Oh my gosh! Johnny’s house sits nestled in the crook of a tall, sturdy row of power poles with thick ropey hanging wires.

“Johnny!” I shout. “Have these always been here!?”

Johnny looks up casually. “Yep.”

“You live with these things?” I am aghast. “Why do you have all these wires and poles running right over your house and over your pool and …and, and..you live here!”

“Ummmm?” Johnny says. “They’ve been here since I was a little kid. They’ve never bothered us.”

My brain does a turn inside my head. “They have never bothered him or his family?” (more…)

Bill Scares Snake In His Underpants

Wednesday, August 1st, 2012

“Why are you out here in your underpants?” Karl wants to know

Here’s Bill in his baggy white underpants, barefoot with a dead tree branch in his hand. It’s dark. It’s late. He and I are outside hunting for a snake. I have a flashlight the size of a pencil in my hand.

I’d gone looking for my big, red maine coon cat in his large, covered cat yard. Karl hadn’t made his usual squeaking noises when I opened his wire door and called for him to come with me into the house.

All I have is that tiny flashlight in the late dark and I can’t find Karl. I thrash through the tall zinnias and point the light into the spiky, yellow wild primroses. Nope. Not here. I trip a bit and grab the side of the wire yard just in time. Then I look under Karl’s favorite bush. Nope.

“Here Kitty, Kitty Karl…here Kitty!”

Ahhh, here he is crouched next to the wire, staring intently at something. I’m saying, “…Hey, Karl…what’s up?”

Well, what’s up is a snake! Curled up! On the other side of the wire.

Oh boy. I look but I can’t see if it’s a small rattler or a friendly snake.

…And, I’m worried because every night Karl insists he has to spend all night out here.

A few days ago, I saw coyote tracks in the soft dirt beside the yard. And, now a snake. The yard is covered on top with chicken wire but with enough patience something could dig under the yard wire. Or slide through the wire holes.

I have to get Bill. He’s in his studio and probably asleep, but this is serious. (more…)


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