one small miracle

yesterday afternoon, received a call from someone who had a "friend" who had come upon my tackle box that disappeared from the back of pickup truck during the memorial day weekend.

they explained that their friend was interested in returning it and that I should contact them at the number they left on voicemail.

returned the call, but no direct contact as yet. seems like a small miracle might be in the making. ahh, all those steelhead and trout flies that were custom shorty tied as well as a plethora of lures and weird stuff may soon again return home, to say nothing of my fishing license and other odds and ends.

not an earth shaking miracle, but what the heck.

Hey, what's that? seems like when I listen carefully, I can hear the fish laughing.

Memorial Day 2006

to all our honored dead who've given all for us, we thank you.

to all those who've sent them places they shouldn't have gone, DAMN YOU.

this year's Memorial Day was introspective and sadder than most. yours truly was bartending at a mild protest/soire'. didn't get blotto, but was modified enough that I couldn't leave in the late afternoon to attend a couple other happenings in other parts of the county. amazing how many people now are of the mind that supports our troops where ever they are but not the bastards that sent them to their ends - to say nothing of those who they grappled with.

from now on, we are Uglier Americans than ever and who knows how long or IF we can ever turn it around. this administration has taken us down a slippery slope of slippery slopes. our taxes have done more harm in the last 6 years than ever before.

forgive us for what we do by proxy with taxes. accept apologies from the bleatings of our sheeplike nation.

fishing at 5am, stupid move and INDY 500!

Ok, you can give me the stupid award for May 2006, to sit on the shelf with stupid awards for 2004 and 2005. three years running now, dang.

this pen and ink rendering is only here to bolster my waning ego and remind me of some of the things of beauty I've constructed and destructed.



today began with a couple of hours of quality fishing time at spring lake. hoping to look that big world class bass in the eye isn't really realistic, but what the heck - it fills the time. the day came in golden, the waters were like glass, my rig brought forth a couple of small stupid fish that no doubt wanted to meet someone of similar qualities.

left spring lake and picked up a bottled coffee drink. before going into the store I looked at my tackle box in the back of the pickup and thought, "heck, I'll only be inside for a minute or two". RIGHT. when I came out it was gone, gone, gone. this is a theme that I'm becoming used to. inside the tackle box were about 30 years worth of flycasting paraphenalia, bass rigs, and the usual stuff AND MY FREAKING FISHING LISCENSE and the extra copy that allows you to get another one for a few bucks. gone, gone, gone. went back into the store and made a note that they taped to the cash register stating - "please return tackle box, no questions asked".

karma check time, eh?

now I'm sitting here at my friends house watching the INDY 500 and hoping Danica Patrick takes it all. she, David Letterman and Bobby Rahall deserve an INDY win. my second choice would be one of the father and son team of the Andretti fam.

over and out,

not much sleep last night...

couldn't sleep last night and somewhere in the turning and twisting were some pretty fragmented and mildly disturbing dreams.

had a dream about running down a pier as a child (don't know if this ever really happened) and jumping off the end into what seemed like a lake. the odd thing was that there was some kind of elation and big meaning to the run and the jump that I knew only until the dream was fading and realization that I was in my bed and am an old man long past this event. losing both the meaning of the dream and that feeling of childhood was a weight I've not felt before.

guess I drifted back into REM land again and this time I was looking at a sign that said "Cuba, New York". I was somewhere on the streets of a town with a bicycle and was trying to find somebody I knew. everything was strange and my journey took me in circles always back to the Cuba, New York sign. as I woke, I made a mental note to check and see if the place even exists.

when I got to work at 6am, after checking the company emails and security cameras and looking at some of the adverts that are in the mix; I googled "Cuba, New York". to my amazement, there it was - and just down the road from my birthplace in Albany New York. what the heck is that about. heck, maybe it's about some other problem that's over but still nagging at me OR about nothing at all and just a joke of confusion.

heck, maybe this is how altzheimers starts. no biggie - bring it on, might be a blessing in disguise.

found a picture of Cuba, New York and included it here.

lunch project

here's a lousy "coffee report card" designed for a friend.

cheated and went to vistaprint for the coffeecup motif and customized it.

big freaking deal.

over and out,

another friendly figment...

these pictures are figments of our imagination taken yesterday. was passing by the sea ranch north of Jenner by the Sea and figured it would be a grrreat thing to have pictures of a figment!


this chapel was built by local artisans and is a nondenominational building.

the most amazing thing about this building is the almost total absence of straight lines.

nice place to have a good laugh.

those who laugh, LAST!

a visit to some old friends this weekend

this is a picture of Goat Rock (foreground) and Arch Rock (backgroud) in the vicinity of Jenner by the Sea - where the Russian River in Sonoma County becomes the beautiful Pacific Ocean.

took this picture on a 3 year old cannon power shot, but soon will be upgrading to either a 5 or 8 pixel cannon, olympus or other.

in front of these two rocks is the famous sand bar where the seals hang out when the steelhead and salmon are running.

this place is pure freaking magic. around that outcropping on your left there lies blinds beach. this is one of my "battery recharge" places. the Russian River delta and Pennys Island are one of my fave canoe jaunt haunts.

okie dokie, over and out,

chicken little is dead, long live chicken little

"the sky is falling, the sky is falling!"

thus spoke chicken little. a little like the boy crying wolf or all those other statements or observations that were either a bit before the mark or totally WRONG. so goes the human experience.

in other realms:

it's monday and the Giants just took two out of three from the A's in that ugly stadium across the bay. Barry the Bonds hit number 714 and tied the Babe for all time despite the hate and gnashing of teeth from all the malcontented fans, players and others of the game. anyway, the pitching in all three games was stupendous, the Giants sticks were blazing and since the Oakland A's are touted as one of the best teams in baseball this year either the Giants are getting online and on a tear or have just made a very nice flash in the pan.

time will tell.

time will tell, DANG! what a deep group of words that is today for this scribbler of the english language. thoughts of the deep forever haunt me today, gang.

ok, back to work - and a couple of full page newspaper ads will jump from mind to computer screen like freaking magic.

over and out...