Sunday…September 13th…More Noise From the High Desert…

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Here is another  page from my book….

“We’re not from this planet”…I said in the most convincing accent I could come up with…something with a Cuban flair…understandable yet still aloof…I was hoping to save a few dollars on admission to the theme park…and my thinking was if we seemed really foreign…the attendant would just have to give us a break… “Thirty six dollars each” she said…her eye shadow was a turquoise color…a small beak of a nose protruded from her relatively flat face…and other than a couple of bumps and a dip…she was pretty nondescript…no deal…no how…so being foreign had no advantage…or none I knew of…I’d taken him to the airport this morning…5:45 am…I don’t know why everybody I know flies at unbelievable early hours in the morning…why not book the flight for 10 or three in the afternoon when real people are awake…I generally awaken early…or don’t sleep at all…so waking is not part of the problem…I’d rather…think of sleep as I time I’m forgetting the stuff I’m doing rather than rejuvenating my aging body…which by the way in a few days a milestone day arrives…52 years on the planet…really 5 years nine months…depending on how you define life…and its beginnings…I’m not certain about the concept of beginning…or end…seems when everything starts that should be the beginning and when it stops…call it the end…but stuff happens before and after…so the beginning is kind of the word used to describe the day we decided to do it…and the end…same thing…I’ve heard…could be urban legend…that hair and fingernails grow after death…and since they’re dead anyway…dead things growing out of the dead body…just to creepy to even think about…let alone talk about over say a Thanksgiving dinner…or circumcision…why in the world would anyone invite people over to watch the foreskin of a baby being removed…I think that starts a long chain of “Hey look at me” sort of thing…send out invitations to your vasectomy at 51…or “Hazel’s getting her tubes tied this Monday…I’m thinking of a small get together in the operating room…some cheese and punch, you know with the strawberries floating in it…sort of a little potluck…oh maybe around 2:30…oh and hey could you bring some chips and salsa…and some paper plates…great…see you then”….I think the caliber of the food should change with the level of the surgery…heart surgery…no transfat…mostly whole grain organicky kind of stuff…gall bladder removal…winter type soups….removing tonsils…naturally frozen yogurt…little melon balls and sushi…now with brain surgery…without a doubt…beef Wellington… twice baked potatoes…asparagus…a nice bottle of shiraz and for desert perhaps a baked Alaska…or flambéed bananas in a heavy cream sauce with honey….mmm…now think if you had all of these surgeries… you’d have a lot of friends…they’d be looking forward to the your next operation…in hopes of maybe a more ethnic fare…perhaps Indian or Himalayan…that would have to be a sex change operation though…I’d think….and there’d be music…live music…I’m thinking of moving somewhere…surprisingly somewhere over the rainbow blue birds fly…it’s a small town a few miles south west of Fresno…you’d miss it without the latest copy of the Rand Mcnally atlas…volume 42….“Obscure towns and cities in California”….edition… it’s a difficult one to find…as it’s only sold in “Longs” drug store….in Pearl City Hawaii …so you really need to know what you’re looking for and why….I lived in Hawaii  for awhile…never could get the hang of surfing…or getting a tan…generally I burn… peel become very white…and the burning process begins all over again…seems my Scottish melanin…is really more suited for the damp overcast…rainy climate of the Highlands …not to mention the opportunity to make a world class haggis…now you’re talking…

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3 thoughts on “Sunday…September 13th…More Noise From the High Desert…

  1. fabulous post… had me laughing til I had tears. I am sorry I have not commented as much as I usually doo — been very busy— but am reading your posts. It’s my fav morning ritual….

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  2. Oh my. This image just made me cream my cutoffs.

    I have this raging woody for lights at night. My mom said when I was a wee lass I’d go crazy with excitement for lights.

    I’m with Elaine on reading your posts as a morning ritual. I have to get my Vitamin R each day or I’m as useful as tights on a bull.

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  3. LOL I am loving this post! You do it, Robert, you just do. I’m grateful for your stories. Sometimes they come home with me and Clay and pitch little tents around the house and yard. They hang out and watch over those of us who are a little less farther along the golden path than you are. I’m grateful.

    Haggis and neeps! Buckey, Scotland, at Valerie’s cousin’s house, February 1981. Put some hair on my chest. Ya kin what I mean, Laddie?

    Happy pre-birthday to you 🙂 I hope you’ve brought your kilt.

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