The Roadmonster

How can I make this page make me a bazillionaaaire so I can do all the talk shows and really tell some stories. I like the idea of being richer.
I was riding my Motorcycle the other day and stopped at the market. Leaving my wallet locked in the trunk of the bike, at the register I had only the change in my pocket to pay for my purchase. As I fished for change wondering if would have to get my ATM card from the bike, a young blond women behind me tried to give me $5. I guess I was dressed for the occasion; my 'riding' pants are Air Force flight overalls. Wearing them over jeans with a down Jacket and a hooded sweatshirt, I looked like I 'live' in the elements. I guess my appearance, coupled with me counting my change, led her to believe I was broke and prompted her to offer me the $5. The little sweetheart.
Putting my hand up, I protested, "Oh, no thank you, I have money. I appreciate your kindness, though, thank you." I joked and said, "Hey, didn't you try to lend me money before?"
Again she extended the money.
Again I protested, "Thank you but really, I have money. I'm a millionaire." Everybody's jaw dropped.
"You're a millionaire?", she asked, incredulously.
The fact I broke a tooth earlier in the week and have a gap in my smile where you can see the bridgework didn't help matters either.
"Oh yeah," I said. "Can't you tell?"
"You're a millionaire?" she asked again as she finished bagging her groceries and was leaving.
No. Not unless we count benefits and pension over the rest of my life. As I straddled my 23 year old classic red Goldwing, the Roadmonster, still smiling about the young woman's kindness in the store, I wondered when I would see her again, and how I would appear.
I roared by the Chevron, (the only Chevron in town) and there she was, and I knew that I looked the same, but on the red and chrome blur of the Roadmonster, my appearance was totally different.
Anyway, I could be richer. I could be poorer. Shoulda, woulda, coulda pudding. I couldn't be more me, and as long as one is happy with who they are, without lying to themselves... The whole game is played between the ears!
Be Happy.
I'll worry about being richer in about 2 million hits.

Bring Money

The last six months I was in the Military, the Army allowed me to wear civilian clothes and attend Methodist College in Fayetteville, North Carolina. The military was pushing College degrees, and if you (the individual soldier) were within one semester of obtaining one, Fort Bragg would release you from all duties to attend school at Methodist to obtain it. The College was all for the program; Uncle Sugar was paying all the fees and the College was growing like the troops were feeding it Miracle-grow.
While attending this fine institute of learning, I was assigned to read a story about a poor women living with three lazy sons, a slovenly husband, and a pack of dogs the men kept, which, along with the men, the woman was responsible for feeding. The woman had married the man, bore him sons, and then spent her life laboring for them. The men were demanding, ungrateful, and thoughtless. Even the dogs would howl and whine if they weren't fed on time. One cold evening, tired, old, and worn out, the old women began to trudge the mile and a half through the soft snow home from the grocer. The wind had picked up a little, and she was having trouble keeping her top coat button buttoned, a bag of groceries in each arm. Halfway home the dogs, hungry and impatient for dinner, came searching to hurry her. At home the men grumbled about a late dinner. And there in the snow, as the old women stopped to rest for a moment, she closed her eyes, and never opened them again. The dogs, sniffing the food, tore the bags open and feasted, afterward returning home. The old women spent her life, and last moments, for dogs.
I tell this story because BooBoo, my nephew's dog (Dogs 03Apr08), is soon to arrive from the city and I'm feeling a lot like the old lady in the story (my oldest son dropped a dog on me himself and then skipped off to Europe for life, seemingly).
Bring money nephew. Lots of it because I'm eight days from payday, and I got twelve dollars, four days worth of food, no gas, no grass, no ass, and I ain't looking forward to another dog I can't afford to feed.

Grand Theft Auto 4

Coinciding with oil reaching another record high of $123 a barrel today, the new video game 'Grand Theft Auto 4' generates $500 million in sales in it's first 1/2 week. That's half a BILLION in three and a half days in video game sales.
At the same time Myamar loses 100 thousand plus people in a cyclone (hurricane), and a good portion of Asia's rice crop is destroyed or threatened, unfotunately and coincidently, the week after experts predict world food shortages. Yet there is still $500,000,000 paid for this one new video game in 3 and a 1/2 days worth of sales. I underline this point because I wonder what the total game sales will in a week, month, year?
Now, I'm no Reverend Wright, and I won't claim to know anything about the divine plan, or how God really thinks. I'm not even going to claim there is a GOD, but supposing there is... then what the hell would you guess the Almighty is going to think upon her appraisal of the current state of affairs: "Things can't be that damn bad" or "How bad can it get"? Might depend on how many shares of Microsoft God owns.
Half a billion in retail sales has to be good for the stimulus package. Let me do a little research on that game and see if the money is going to China....
And just back from Google... Xbox is Microsoft. There you are; the rich get richer. And using theological criteria of appraisal for logic, God has to own a piece of Microsoft, otherwise no way in hell they could have that kind of success. Anyway, if the world falls apart, Americans don't think they care. They're stealing cars on the computer, and getting life's lessons from the perverted wisdom of Wall Street, graphic designers and the thrills of cyberspace.
What are life's lessons? I would guess for every life they are different. In America, where the vast majority of the now living population did not experience the Great Depression, where Baby Boomers have lived their entire lives in what, for the most part, was the expanding economy of the richest nation on earth, the lessons of life already learned may not apply to the world of the future. A world with a shrinking economy and the comforts and luxuries of yesteryear gone.
In a shrinking world, new lessons of life may be necessary to learn and, for Americans, it won't be easy. A world where property depreciates and today's pleasures can't be paid for with tommorrow's equity. How the hell are Americans going to pay for all those $35K SUVs, and put gas into them all $5 a gallon, if we can't refinance our homes every 3 to 5 years? That's why SUV sales are down in the billions and my Jeep has 235 thousand miles. Lessons learned.
A world where people go hungry. Everybody I know that has ever 'starved', afterward they could never be rich enough. Being hungry for food to sustain life, survive, must leave a long and lasting impression/fear. Today's native born Americans, for the most part, have never known real hunger. And the mass production of food depends on fuel and petrol chemicals and the weather. Absurd, Americans hungry! Not in our lifetimes. Hopefully.
Furthermore, in America (in our lifetimes) opportunity has always been available. Why save, just go make more money. Buy it on credit, pay for it with future money. Future money may not be available in the future. Opportunity may disappear. If you can't afford it now, forget it. Learn the value of a dollar and save. Damn, am I talking to the past, or what? I'm talking to the future, too. Too bad I can't afford to save. Anyway, I just thought the juxtaposition of current world conditions and video sales might explain why I think when the Almighty shows up she might be a little bitchy. Half a billion dollars. I wish I could afford that game and see what I'm missing.

The Day Before Payday

It's the day before payday. I had left over meatloaf for breakfast. My first cup of coffee had milk and sugar in it; all the creamer is gone, now the milk is too. I'm out of bread and eggs, Pepsi, bagels, cheese, and chocolate milk also. From this point the list becomes infinite, suffice to say, payday will arrive none too soon.
Life is so wonderful. Living in thirty day cycles within five year goals isn't so great, but every day an inch. I feel like the goal-less worm. It will happen and I will get there. Don't ask where, if you think about our ultimate destination, inching towards it is much too fast. Just another five years, ten or fifteen times will do, maybe. I was looking for one hundred and five but the closer I get, the better one hundred and fifty looks. I need more time to get things right. If 'only the good die young', isn't that like a war-cry for misbehaving? Do only the wicked get old, or only after avoiding dying young do they repent and become good old people?
Is John McBush really a war-monger? Does Hillary Clinton realize that her idea and description of dodging bullets in Bosnia is an insult to service people who have served under-fire? Does Hillary Clinton know? Hillary will never know what it is like to be a black man in a society and culture controlled by rich white people. Hillary will never know what it is to be a poor, bald man without a Harvard education, living in a shack, in a society and culture controlled by rich white people. Barack Obama will never know what it's like to be from Arkansas either, or a woman; or married to Bill. Hell, I can never know a lot of things that being me inherently prohibits. I can only imagine what being married to me would be like.
Sounds to me like black churches lay a double whammy on their followers; the only way to heaven is through the Son (inclusive/exclusive), and you better stay strong with God to fight white supremacy. That means coming to Church to get your lessons in divisiveness. What we really need is a 9/11 in space with an alien Al Qaeda that is bright-green and has three arms. That would give everybody a common enemy. Earthling or not! I'm glad I got this out today, cos tomorrow I'll have money and no time for this bullshit.

10 Days til Payday

Ten days till payday and the question is: Is there enough money to eat, and buy materials? Or just enough money for materials? And inextricably intertwined with the first two questions is the third: How many days can a man comfortably go hungry? Normally the second day I want to eat. If I'm told I can't eat for twelve hours, or like the night before, I'm starving upon receipt of the words. Anyway, this is about Materials not colondoscopies. (cool word , huh? is it misspelled?)

Lack of materials is why I have time this morning to write. I was sitting upstairs after breakfast, having a bowl and wondering what jail would be like, when I realized I should be dreaming about having materials to build endlessly. Then I started dreaming of the Winchester Hearst Castle I could build up here. But, alas, I had to admit to myself if I had the money for endless materials, I'd be riding around the country on my motorcycle, drinking in bars, eating in restaurants, living the good life, being lazy and having fun... You know, like all of you do!

Then I started thinking about jail again. I could work out religiously and maybe get a tattoo. If I got really buffed and strong, I'd have the thorns inked around my upper arms to accentuate their size. Get a teardrop. Maybe do the spider web tattoo around my elbows.

No, after deep soul searching, 'been there done that' is something I don't want to say about being arrested or jailed. I better think of Good things lest my energy manifest thought to reality. Is President Bush still in Italy plotting 'The End of Days' with the Pope and the Secret Society of the Jesuits?

Everything is wonderful. It's Friday the Thirteenth and this letter is to remind all of you that life is wonderful, every miserable moment.' And don't forget it and life will be wonderful, and you will be happy. Rejoice in every moment that you're still getting yours.