A Few Pond Thoughts

I'm getting my Thoreau on with a little visit to the pond I just had. Not sure it's quite the caliber of old Henry there but they're thoughts nonetheless.

If one finds pleasure in rejection, trying to get published is a fulfilling endeavor.

The right wine, the right food and the right company are about as far right as I care to get.

During these tough times, many simply cannot make ends meet. Well add my dog to the list of victims. She had to foreclose on her doghouse.

Whenever I have a regret, I place it in a special, large jar. I'd say it's about two thirds full. I plan to take it with me when I die because I figure I'll have plenty of time to grapple with them then.

I like spreading rumors about myself. That way when I catch wind of them later, I'm not nearly as shocked.

Three things drive me insane: forgetting stuff and whatever the other two are.

Whenever I think I have an answer to all this life stuff, I think some more and realize, I don't have an answer, just a resting place.

There's something to be said about thoughts best left unsaid, which might be the angle I should have taken here.

Fleeting Self Confidence

Self confidence is fleeting. I have plenty of it until I need, and then it's harder to find than a prime rib option at a vegan banquet.

Hearing Trees

There are times I stare out back at the tree covered hilltop beyond, but I don't see the trees really, as much as I hear them. And for a moment I allow myself to imagine if peace made a sound, this just might be it.

Twitter

I've been a member of Twitter since August 2008. I remember thinking then, "This is stupid. Who cares what I'm doing? Who cares what I think? And why do I have to tweet what nobody cares about in handful of characters?" Well, it's been almost twelve years now and I still ask, who cares?

So why? Why do it? I think the way I respond to notifications that someone retweeted or liked one of my tweets, indicates vanity is lurking about in all this. And when the notification is that someone is following me, I'm, for the moment, kind of goofy proud about it. But none of this is enough to keep me plugging along as I do.

I think what I really enjoy is being a freakin' wise guy. A smart ass. If you knew me in person, not through the prism of anonymity that Twitter provides, you would come to know a guy who is relatively calm, cool and collected. Strike the cool. I avoid conflicts. It's an occupation of mine. That's what I do and I do it well.

But put me on Twitter and I become something else. And I have to say, it's been therapeutic. For instance, enter Donald Trump. Look, I hate the fellow. Oh, I know. Hate is a strong word Bob. Yes it is, which is why I stand by it. I hate him and I process everyone of his tweets as if he slapped me  in the face. And boy do I unload. Crisp one-liners. Crackling criticism. All with the humor of wise crackin' lounge comedian. And it feels lemony refreshing.

So I guess if I had to summarize why I tweet, it would be fueled by a smidgeon of vanity and ignited by a hefty dose of comedic bravado protected by the cloak of anonymity. Yeah. That would be it.

Blogger's Block

I've got it today. That is I've got blogger's block. I'm trying to think of something funny to blog, but I got nothing. I mean the only thing funny so far is the claim from Trump that the mayor of Seattle is doing a terrible job. So bad he wonders if she's ever had a job like it before. Now that's funny coming from a guy who's resume for President included being a two bit reality show host, a failed casino owner, a scam University founder, and a beauty pageant producer. But it's not laugh out loud funny. It's sad funny.

The other thing that is mildly funny is the Stock Market. Yesterday it closed nearly 1900 points down. The guys who know stuff about this said it was due to the announcement that we are most likely going to experience a second wave of COVID-19 in the coming weeks. I went to bed thinking here comes another down turn. I woke up my usual time, when the chirping birds wake the dog. Tumbled out of bed to let the dog out. Fed the dog. Made coffee for my wife (no sugar, heated nonfat milk, whisked into a foamy froth and sprinkled with freshly ground cinnamon; in short, high maintenance) and myself. Took the coffees up to bed and turned on the TV for our daily torture of Morning Joe.

It was early enough to catch the financial summary on the show preceding Joe. Settled in, I awaited the bad news about the stock market opening today. The financial whiz announced, "Futures indicate the DOW is going to open 550 points up." Huh? What had changed about COVID-19 overnight? A vaccine was approved? The number of new cases was zero? Tests were available for everyone? Well, the truth is nothing had happened. The dismal prediction from yesterday remained unchanged. So why did the DOW collapse yesterday and within 16 hours go up substantially today when absolutely nothing had changed?

Now I'm not a conspiracy theorist by any stretch, but if ever there was something deserving of a conspiracy, this is it. There are people out there making a boatload of money and it ain't me. It ain't most of us. Something is going on. And now that I think of it, it's not funny.

Note to Bob: stick with funny.

Off the Top of My Head

I don't like people with last names that rhyme with rump.
The band Strawberry Alarm Clock was completely misunderstood.
If I have to wear a mask to a restaurant, how am I supposed to eat?
I don't understand the stock market, and I'm beginning to think no one understands the stock market.
Nudity at age 68 isn't all it's cracked up to be.
I know COVID-19 is driving us all nuts but my wife thinks she is a mermaid, so there is that to deal with too.
I'm willfully retweeting Joe Walsh tweets. I never saw that coming.
I don't know when it happened but someone stole my ass cheeks and hid them under my chin. Has that happened to you?
I have good reason to believe my dog is trans. I just wish she would talk to me about it.
I wonder if Sean Hannity's wife reached out to Melania Trump for marriage advice recently. It would explain a few things.
Using the phrase "circle around" should be stopped as soon as possible.
My parents are in a Senior Living Community and have been in lockdown for months. I'm concerned that there are knives in the apartment.
Sometimes I feel like a sheep in chicken's clothing.
Q has to be the dumbest letter in the alphabet.
Life would be so much easier if weeds were actually attractive.

Mermaids and Such

I asked, "Do you really think mermaids exist?

"I'm pretty certain," Keaton replied.

"Where's the evidence?"

"Yeah, like where's the evidence that they don't exist," she snapped back.

Then I thought: her argument is very fishy for someone who doesn't have scales or a flipper ... yet.