Memorial Day...

The day to remember the fallen those who gave their lives for our country; a fullfilled sacrifice.

How did I spend it:

Like most Americans, sleeping in, eating at Bar-B-Ques.

I also moved a little bit from one home to another. My lower back is on fire. Anyone have a cure for that other than Asprin?

L Takes a Dip....

Midweek, L and I share dinner outside The Royale. F joins us as we finish off ravioli and order another round of fresh squeezed juice.

The weather is perfect. The chill of the evening will come later, but with the last says of sun no one needs a jacket or coat.

We hang out, talk about nothing in general and enjoy the moment. A documentary on hobos (train riders) is shown outside. It is grainy, funny, poorly edited and completely enjoyable indie-movie I will never see again.

After the show, L excuses herself. She walks the narrow path between the chairs and fence. F and I stand up to leave. We are less considerate of others than L and walk across the screen rolling credits.

I stop and talk to the director for a few moments before making my way into the bar to await F and L.

L reaches me first, her hands spread in front of her and her jaw dropped. Her expression is one of “Look at the mess I made.” I notice a few water drops on her jacket.

“Oh, did the water from the sink splash up,” I laugh thinking of a similar incident.

“No, I feel into a pot.”

“A pot. Was there a pot of water out there?” My mind goes to the possibility that a careless cook left a pot of water sitting on the ground.

“No, a pond. I fell into a pond of water. I am wet from the waste down.” Looking down it is hard to notice that her jeans and sopping wet and half of her shirt is moist. “I was walking around and fell into a pond waist deep.”

“Are you alright?” I ask beginning to laugh.

“Yes,” she laughs back.

We both laugh about the incident and explain it F when comes back. He seems more shocked and caring: a much better boyfriend response than the chuckles I have.

L takes time to pour the puddles from her shoes, and I steal a napkin for her to sit on the car ride home.

The stench form an obviously scum filled pond fills my car in little time. We keep laughing the whole way home. Even after L takes a shower and dresses in my clothes, we keep laughing.

We have yet to go back to The Royale. When we do though taking a gander at the now infamous pond is a must.

Quad Cities...

Here the Mississippi river runs from east to west-A geographical fluke that occurs only for about four miles. On the east, Illinois’ men and women work hard at the international headquarters of John Dear. On the west, Iowa farmers smile at the gradual rise of the corn and soybean prices and yell in anger at the skyrocketing price of fuel. They ask the question we all think, “When in Ethanol going to make a difference?”

It is that crush that brings them together. A sick feeling in the pit of their stomachs as the gas price rises higher and higher. Two dollars a gallon used to seem insane and now well over three is the norm.

It is the in ability to do anything that bothers them the most. Stop driving is not an option, work is needed to provide the daily bread. Elect new leaders, only they seem as incompetent at fixing the problem as the ones before. Even those with stock in gas companies are watching the price rise faster than their dividend.

Blame is put on the companies, OPEC, politicians and general greed. Though they may the theories have how we got here may be true and a simple solution seems impossible, it comes back to the lack of control and no idea when will it stop. How high is too high?

Dispatches From the Home front Issue 2…

Last week, the GOP Presidential candidates, minus the still unannounced Fred Thompson and New Gingrich, debated at the Ronald Reagan museum in California. For the most part the evening was as boring as paint drying, which is why I mention it only now. (The Democrats would have been the same except for Mike Gravel.)

The GOPers, complimented Reagan a lot, told Arnold they wouldn’t let him run for President and tried to find someway to look tough on terrorism but ignore Iraq.

Personally, the highlights of the evening was watching Rudy piss off pretty much everybody by telling them he believes in abortion and Romney trying to remember what is positions where. If there is a winner, I would not give it to conventional thinking of Rudy or Mitt, but to Huckabee. Despite fundraising numbers lower than Vilsack, I believe he may still gain enough traction to hang on for awhile. At least long enough to gain VP interest.

Then again, I have been wrong so many times before I shouldn’t guess. After all, there was no way that Gore could loose to Bush.

Updates...

Back from Potland, where I watched the GOP Presidential debate. Only Huckabee really impressed me. Thankfully, no one is talking about him.


Things are going well in The Lou. My father is retired, last party last night, and will be moving to Texas soon. I will move into my parents' home on the sky soon.

L has her Master of Fine Arts show this Friday. Check out her website..

Not much is happening except work and sleep, which is keeping life somewhat dull. Is this what it means to be mature?

Portland dayz...

Another week, another Frontier flight, a trip to Portland, rain, hail and sunshine great me as I drive down towards Salem. Big visit is tomorrow, a nice gift. Today is for settling with a visit and then to the hotel.

Right in front of the hotel was the rainbow; I thought you would like it.