Life in a Slushie

I was just thinking about you.

Or was it you?

I forget.

But it was the you who cradled me and spoke soothing words about the importance of sitting by the river and pitching stones as if tomorrow didn’t matter.

Well, I’ve been pitching stones until my arm hurts.

Fuck that.

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Just wondering: Why did President Obama give an equal opportunity to the minority party of obstructionists today to discuss health care?

If Obama really wanted to do something, why not use his majority status and PASS SOMETHING?

Just saying.

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Between toweling off from chores in the unbearable wetness of yesterday’s snow and today’s rain, I did manage to tune into about 20 minutes of the Obama Health Care Summit. It reminded me of my days as a flower delivery boy in high school: The little dogs always barked louder and, worse, bit.

But, unlike Obama, I learned how to deal with the little dogs: Ignore and/or avoid them. Because they have nothing to prove but trying to prove themselves by injuring you.

Fuck that.

–

There is no truth to the rumor that I’m running for the selectboard for the town of Worcester, Vermont. But if you write my name in, I’ll consider writing your name in for free mental health services. ‘Nuf said.

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I Make Lists (Part 2)

Remember:
1. To breathe.
2. To think pure thoughts.
3. To not ridicule the neighbor.
4. To smile when talked to.
5. To nod when necessary (read: always).
6. And to position myself for maximum pleasure.

Check: Mate.

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Department of Updates: Maple Sugaring Adventure

The man with the maple sugaring expertise from the university walked with us to assess our desires to become producers. Wait, that sounds funny. Or is it just me? Whatever.

And at the end of the walk we had this exchange:

Maple Man: “You’ve got thousands of taps.”

Me: “So I’m not crazy?”

Maple Man: “Not at all.”

Me: “Wow, you’re the first person to ever say that.”

And now we’re married – in a maple production kind of way.

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Department of Updates: Of the Reality Kind

Big maple production will have to wait until next year since the season is now knocking at the door. But, for this year, the now certifiably-not-crazy Moike is prepared to launch a mini-sugaring adventure with 50 taps, a daughter, a horse called Big Jim, and some neighbors who – at least to my face – don’t think I’m crazy either (editor’s note: give them time.).

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You simply do not deserve more. But, please, tell me if I’m wrong. And make it juicy.