Not Funny

Waiting on events.

Idleness.
Devil's workshop?
Voltaire said, " All people are good except those who are idle."

Pretty bad self-assessment!

"We never live; we are always in the expectation of living."

I should have my head examined.
"Not to be occupied, and not to exist, amount to the same thing."
Couldn't have said it better. It's really too bad. Tough all over.

Get occupied.

Take a picture.
Work it out.
Could be worse.

Treating People

Really something. The pastor mentioned Alexander Whyte.
He wrote this, which, of course, brought to mind Galen.
Looking for accompanying image, came across the one presented.
One of a series I saw every school day in the drug store window!

Waiting for the bus. Never thought I'd be involved in medicine.
That's to say, had other career interests, mostly of getting hits...
...and throwing guys out on the base paths. Every time. Yup.
It wasn't until too late, etc., but I remember these plates.


He preached on Acts 10. Cornelius and Peter meet.
The supervention of custom; the Gospel goes global.

Genotypicality transcended, all are welcome. No barriers.
Great story in the telling, difficult in its application.

Significant that Roman soldier and Jewish tradesman attain agreement by dint of their visions, an implication being it couldn't happen otherwise. How do we treat people who are not only the sociological "outgroup" but also repugnant or castigated as such by the "ingroup?" Well, everybody gets treated! And treated well.

Composure

Out for a spin and a grove preserved. Got to be dates.
To say timing not right toward Suns date a stretch.
Timing all off, really; too old, too broke; too out of it.
And the Suns lose. All within diminished expectations.

Shows to go. Were I a gambling man, I'd know better.

Agendas

When we were boys, my uncle, a career Army man, brought my brother and I to Arlington Cemetery. I suppose I was in the sixth grade. We'd gone to the Pentagon and Fort Meade. I think I took my first pictures there with an Instamatic, and specifically remember a shot of the map diagramming the Pentagon's floor plan of concentric rings and radiating corridors, the flash bursting onto the plate glass. The print now somewhere in the flotsam of life, I still have a photographic memory of Arlington.

The Custis-Lee mansion was filled with decorations of the Unknowns from other countries. We waited patiently, as instructed by our uncle, for the hourly changing of the guard. He told us about the "Third Herd," the 3rd Infantry and its contingent making up the Honor Guard. Spit and polish; exact and flawless. Walking the mat. We'd no idea of what we were in for. Totally fascinating, it was. I never forgot, and, if there's any "moral compass" or notion of wandering from the U.S. of A., well, this pretty much puts the kibosh on that.

We went on to John Kennedy's grave. The service covers were still emplaced at the time. The country was still reeling from his murder, factions divisive gaining influence. Quite a lot for boys to handle on the one hand, just the way it is on the other.

We proceeded to walk through the grounds toward the river and the Marine Corps installation. Very impressive. A beautiful day. Nowadays, here in Arizona, we know all about Ira Hayes and his troubles. It's all so mind bending; we wouldn't be so presumptive to see ourselves in his place on Suribachi yet walk in his moccasins for the travails - though, again, we don't have it near as bad. Such a sad story. One of many after their horrid experiences.

My uncle also attended my cousin's funeral soon after. On Long Island. He, a Ranger with the 9th Infantry, was shot down while doing forward air control in the Delta. As the Honor Guard reported and Taps blew, our eyes met, locked, and lit up. It was a "we are not afraid" moment I'll never forget. We held it together while everyone else fell apart. I'd participated in many funerals as an altar boy so was somewhat more rigored in that respect. Death, where is thy sting and all. But a terrible tragedy and we're very grateful through all the controversy.

I'd like to take a ride to the National Cemetery to my parents' repository but the truck is struggling. I've never planted flags like they do; not a veteran, I've never participated in such things. Had a thought to. Frankly, it would merely be a gesture, sure as we are of eternal life. That was what occurred those many years ago when our eyes sparkled... forever like.

Exercised

Great day. Last of "spring" if that's the time before centurion temps.
Out biking and a bunch of pictures, doing the best I can. Just doing.

Met a very interesting woman. Maybe see her tomorrow. Maybe.
Would be nice to see Suns with her, if she's inclined. If I gumption up.

(Just remembered Wilt Chamberlain taking up ballet.)

"Hey... it's a kinetic art form when it doesn't get too bruising."

If not, well, they've got to win. Hope they do.

Yeah, live in hope - never say die in despair.

Splat

Having hit wall, this presents, yet not on rebound, given our topic.
I'm going to go back. You'll see. Take some people too. We'll see.

Will have to make time to essay as well, I suppose. Will do.
"Get me outta here!" redounds elsewhere.

Went back and took in the whole. So stark. Bothers me.

I had wanted to sit at the entrance and take pictures of the patrons coming and going but there weren't any so I didn't have to deal with the protocol. Did have a brief conversation with someone sitting in the shade near the entrance reading a book. Tagged with an ID, she was evidently an employee on her break. The flag was at half-staff in the courtyard. I asked her why.

A Phoenix policeman was shot and killed a couple of days ago.

Oh my. Indeed. End of conversation.

My Dad was a policeman.

Treated me like a criminal sometimes; pressures of job.
We eventually got along famously!

End of essay.

Nothing but Trouble

Had a look at Durant's essays on the principals. An old, falling-apart, spineless paperback I first glanced at thirty years ago. Francis Bacon spoke to exactly the kinds of attitudes and perspectives mentioned below. I feel like I'm dealing with another sort of scholasticism where what one pedagogue says about scriptural text is passed along by another, based on nothing more than subjective authority and reverence, one meanwhile indeed respecting and revering the actors.

Bacon posits an inductive approach, descrying impediments:
* Idols of the Tribe - culturally imprinted suppositions

* Idols of the Den - vis Myth of the Cave; illusions and self-delusion

* Idols of the Marketplace - mass psychology impacted by slogans

* Idols of the Theatre - all above playing out in societal folly

So, gather the facts before impressing others with erudition?

Good idea... and, as it warms up in Phoenix, wish I was over there.
Frankly, can't much stand it here year round. Dull and strange people.

Little savoir-faire, everything reduced to money changing hands.

Needs

Difficult to sit through the Bible study class without piping up about the nature of the text at hand, Revelation 18, and I didn't. You can't easily interject, as all the projections are occuring, that there specifically was a targeted entity, Ishtar, and that the captive Jews were exposed to the cult. Hence it's more a matter of historicity than theatricality. But it's not my class; that's that. My opinion.

Earlier, the pastor reviewed Micah 7: 1-8. Dealing with it all.

The way it is, and all. Controversy and contention.
Walking in faith, patience and hope. It'll all work out.

Well, after all, we like to say we're New Testament Christians.

I was hearing this through it all. Already worked out!

So I believe; waiting and not despairing. More or less.

Rejoice in the Lord always;
again I will say, rejoice!

OK.

West Siders

Changed mind; 'twas perhaps lucky watching last game on west side.
Phoenix, of all places, replicates E/W Manhattan snooting. Boring.
Many happy memories of Metro Center, now aging and struggling.
Could use at least two anchors; don't need any more dollar stores.

Taking the game in at Finnegan's. Hanging in there, they are.
(As are the Suns. Taking this one will help a lot going back to L.A.)
First time I was here, stooped to pick up a lucky coin. Stuck!
Yeah, need all the help they can get. Emotional investments!

Don't Hoit

Rob Schumacher/AZ Republic

Went to local pub Sunday to see Suns pull it off.
Er, they had to, and were much more aggressive.

Saw Nash put his nose back into joint too. HDTV!
Where to tonight? Think I'll go with the east-siders.

Habitatation

My former neighbor sold several months ago. He told me a woman from Mesa bought his house but, after he had cleared out, no one moved in and a bank notice was posted in the window. All I could surmise was that the deal fell through and the place went back to the bank holding the mortgage. A brief conversation with him confirmed that he had to let the place go at cost. For whatever reasons, I did not inquire.

I had gone to a realty site when the house was listed and saw that the asking price was the same as what I'd paid for my place in 1994! (He must have been in quite a pinch.) Something else totally blowing my mind. Often enough, especially when the temperature spikes, I think about swapping out and going back to Oregon, southern Oregon particularly. Value for value, that could have made for a half and acre and put up a dome, I surmised when the market was buzzing. That's no longer a feasibility - I haven't even bothered to look into it anymore.

So the place sat for months unattended. The lawn grew to several feet in native grasses. The woman had planted iris bulbs. They came on strong, then went tipsy. Last week, the place sold and a crew of relations came to take care of the grounds. The subsequent seeding of the lawn after the cut has made for day long visits from mourning doves. Many squabs. After the wet winter, a great burst of them.

New neighbor means I've got to keep my place up to snuff as well. The lawn mower is down; hope it just needs a spark plug. (In the meantime, I do have a sickle - good exercise, eh?) So much is down; just can't bear it all. No doubt that's why I never stay home except to eat and sleep. The house not a home syndrome, I suppose. Yet the oleanders are thriving.

Show Biz

Wonderful experiences yesterday and today reading Acts.
Lowered in a basket in the escape from Damascus!
First read that when 12; recall clearly pictures in the primer.
Something appealing in the adventure. Like a serial.

Today, getting into testimony at Pisidian Antioch: how concise.
Fascinating, how he turned; the settlements in Asia. Networking.
Was thinking of role Saul may have played in the Sanhedrin's trial.
Though I've seen that dramatized, there's a pitch... not a niche.

Take it from there.
Scorsese gave it go, of sorts.
Christological spats; don't know about that.
But "only one woman in the world" resonant.

Not Interested

Kevin German does a spread today.
Colonel Kurtz spoke of the horror...
here merely the irony. The irony.

Having liquidated their own bourgeoisie, they seek now to feed off the global trade in same old, same old facilitated by seditious bastards for whom freedom is become denominated to phenomena functional of their sex lives. Utterly bizarre.

Police states otherwise OK, we guess.

Birthday Boy

Walkens put on a fine show at Finnegan's.
Money tight... sparse crowd... still put out.

One set enough for me. Tuckered out.
Got a splendid hug from Roxie. Enough.

Need I explain?
"Do. At your leisure, sir."

Inside job?

Two months! Why no fix?

Too much? Keep eye peeled!

Taking Steps

Very nice shot. Up a ridge north of Piestewa Peak.
Bit of a hike. Spontaneous. In sandals, not boots.

Somewhat apropos of life in Phoenix - picturesque, yet stark.
Sick and tired living amidst strangers; sets of cliques, mostly.

As it warms up, I don't know that I can take another summer.
But have to - thoughts of cooly cashing out obliterated.

Valuations have crashed. Everything has crashed.
So, treks alone, for the exercise, must suffice.

Poor Suns

She doesn't know what she's talking about.

We shouldn't let these women ruin our lives.

Embrace the negativity? Get lost.
Fix Channing Frye? Stay out of our lives.

Don't overlook Goran Dragic? Oh, please.

Get more out of Amar'e Stoudemire? Aks his mama to.
Coach 'em up? Lousy coaching - admit it.

Speaking for myself; could shoot but not dribble.

Readily admit that; let's hope the Suns show up Sunday.

Best broadcast evaluation of demise thus far...

"Stoudemire didn't play defence - he watched defence."

Study Hall

Circumspective came up, you see, at prayer meeting.

The pastor asked what comes to mind thereby;

in the context of our walk with God - last week hereby.

So, I'm going: aware, carefully, look around... heads up!

Then, in Bible study, eschatological mind bending.

One of those "Don't go there." circumstances.

Biding time, as it was - how are the Suns doing?

Good thing settled down with this. Then thus.

This morning, coffee with Leroy and Joshua.
"Giants in the land!"
We can do it.

"You betcha."

E = (me)c² = you

At considerable risk to life and limb, installed some heirlooms.

Βλέπετε οὖν ἀκριβῶς πῶς περιπατεῖτε,
μὴ ὡς ἄσοφοι ἀλλ’ ὡς σοφοί,
έξαγοραζόμενοι τὸν καιρόν,
ὅτι αἱ ἡμέραι πονηραί εἰσιν.

Well, talk about cracking one's skull.

It's all in your head!

Had a talk with a spiritual advisor this morning. Had to admit I lost my mind on the last "job" I attempted. It was difficult to explain in an economy of words, and there was much else to tell as well. Don't know what I'm going to do to survive, don't know where to go. Yes, my head just about exploded last month, but I'm feeling much better. Too much coffee, I'm sure, as I write this up at a coffee house.

Went to him in order to align a goal. I've wanted to go into a ministry for some time, since 2001 definitely, and amorphously for a long time before. But I've not been regular in church attendance and in conflict over a bunch of issues regarding the beginning and end times, so to speak. I'm worn out over it and may have lost the academic thread with which to deal concisely with those controversies but, made sick and tired of the projections, I'm sure they will resolve rationally.

All we could do was to put it all up to the Lord.

This evening comes a choice. I'll be going to chapel at 6 p.m., no problem, but the Suns tip off at 6:30 in conflict with Bible Study from 7 to 8. Originally thinking to head to a pub for the game after prayers (Not necessarily for the Suns, however much they might need them... don't be silly.) and some friendly words, I've thought further and will defer, hoping I catch most of the fourth quarter.

My Dad used to say that all you needed to see of a basketball game was the last five minutes. If it's another blow-out like the other night, straight home. It really isn't so much all about the game as getting out and being with people. Met an interesting fellow from South Africa, for example; we love being with the girls too, old coots that we are. You never know.

Did go to a nursing home with some people from church last Sunday. A service given for the residents, hymns from the old Baptist songbook. It was splendid. Blissful. Did a reading. There were some pamphlets passed from which I too should take to heart. The following called for a signature in acceptance:

Heavenly Father, knowing that I have sinned and I need the Lord Jesus Christ as my Savior, I now turn from my sins and trust Him for my eternal life. I asked Jesus Christ to forgive me, and to deliver me from sin's power and give me eternal life. I now give Jesus Christ control of my life. From this time forward, as he gives me strength, I will seek to trust Him and obey Him in all areas of my life.

Suppose Irene wrote that up.

Yea and yea. Peacefully so.
All in the head? That was a blind-siding hussy...

what don't kill you makes you strong enough.

Bad Blood

Had occasion to look into the Battle of the Trench yesterday.

A suggested beginning of Muslim oppression - not "expansion."

Don't know what the official problem is: don't fall for the apologetics.
Meanwhile, don't give them an centimeter, for they'll take a klick.

No Contact

There was a fire. Couple of blocks west of 35th. Around Orangewood.
Smoke evident driving south, a house becoming engulfed as I passed.

Did banking as the engines responded, wailing along the avenues.
Came out, helicopters congregating; wasn't tempted to get shots.

But may well take ride on bike later. Pass by. Someone's tragedy.

Yes, need to take more exercise. Blood pressure way up. At risk.

Participation

First thing should be sorry for "fighting" but first instead the router is down so wrote up notes while waiting on technical resolution. In the pad they went, then here, then mentioned in despatches.

Tom Waits, he "sung" on getting upset. No, not upset, the fighting; picking fights upsets equilibrium - that was Foley. Gross, rabbit-punching interjection. (Refuted cleanly.) Yet something sadistic in the mix. That's McCaw loving the "sticking it to him," I aver. What's to stick? Nothing. It's all in the sticking since there's no substantial argument. A substantial case blew them away, the only mishap perhaps being that the Norman element is inclusive of Roman law and its proprietary prerogatives. Frankly, don't see a problem there.

So not sorry for sticking up for Sarah Palin. Quite a woman, and smart, in my book. She did not do the weather - she did sports. To say she can't more than handle the "good ol' boys" is a classic contradiction in terms. Anyway, take it from Louis B. Mayer...

Jimmy Stewart for President; Ronald Reagan as best friend.

...and include me out.

Telekinetic circumstance resolved. Photo would help.

No Pope, No Thanks, No Compassion

...................................................................................Steve Winter/Panthera

First thoughts at coffee were about behaviorism.
You think you're at friendly place; not. Feels hostile.
Jumping from Lorenz and Tinbergen to Hartmann -
see they want 215 bucks! Wish list? Yeah, right.

Trouble at the library precludes academic loan.
Was discriminated against, you see... now they want me to pay.
No way. Told a matron I've got a Federal case - no joke.

Was discriminated against - several times. No joke.

The tragedy of man is that of somebody who is starving and sitting at a richly laded table but does not reach out with his hand, because he cannot see what is right in front of him. For the real world has inexhaustible splendour, the real life is full of meaning and abundance, where we grasp it, it is full of miracles and glory.

Good thing, quiet weekend, and Suns on Monday.
To the tub for a stretch. Had a steam. Sauna too hot.
Saw two hawks on the way. Driving - no pix.
No big deal. Not the deal. Deal is the creeps busted.

So What!

The name must change again.

When blogging commenced, it was Averting Catastrophe, then Cross Purposes, and penultimately (for now) Steady Goes. Several catastrophes have been experienced, I’m not so much at cross-purposes with myself; finally, as many so-called indigenous peoples are wont to say, I'm a human being, not a machine, and not engendered of much female persona. No, there is no ghost in my machine, but a whole person sustained by the Holy Spirit.

Pilgrim’s Progress - glanced at. Several times over the years. I have a hard copy. It is an interesting piece, however archaic and inaccessible it may be in its allegorical presentation. But we get it... snares of the devil, allures of the world... catastrophes. John Bunyan. Itinerant. Roundhead. Baptist. My people. I'll go with that.

I besought Jesus that He would do something for me, and when I gave Him my will He came into me and cast out all that would not be patient, and all that would not be sweet, and all that would not be kind, and then He shut the door.

George Fox; quoted in another, however more recent, archaic homiletic piece. While "tidying up" came across this gleaned of a Mom & Pop bookstore years ago. Had never read it through. Got into it today. (Not much going on?) Much of a leap from an academic approach into 19th century Holiness movement. Terribly uncomplicated, I'll say.

What’s progressive is merely adherence, sufficient unto the day.
Very difficult not looking back; unfit for the kingdom?

Needless anxiety. Useless rumination. Get it over with.

Well, it always makes me think of Cincinnatus, buckos.

Will do my best.
Love taking pictures.
Love processing the images.

What to do with them problematic.

Friend of mine encapsulates: he thinks he's a photographer.

Ha! This I look forward to, at least.
Make joke to passer-by... sell portfolio!

Then off to Toulouse for dinner. Loopy.

What are you feeling?

Spent the entire day reposed.
All the money's gone;
where to go?

Thank God - Internet, pal.

Went to church, to chapel, to Bible study.
The boys cruised along.
They've no idea.

Well, Dr. Hyde; the collar's just fine, old snip.

They've been no help, really.
Disinterested in Gott Mit Uns
and subsequent, will continue.

Restoring. Relaxing. Refraining. Gracefully.

What is he thinking?

A high school shot.
Disturbing somehow; not exactly a trusting gaze.
What was wrong?
In the now, an explosive circumstance.

Very happy to have sat in on a study the other day.

. . . the disciples were first called Christians in Antioch.

On the Rockin' G Ranch

Finishing off notes in library; new tree at entrance.

Notes go to sermon, sermon went to Mothers Day.

"Mother was very busy."
So it was determined in church the other day.

Pastor preached on, "Mammas, don't let your babies
grow up to be ____." Fill in the blank, son. Be creative!

First thing was "idiots" then "brats" then "snots" then . . .
don't be silly. The pastor suggested "faithless."

OK. But Mother was very busy.
Wranglin'. Cookin'. Cleanin'. Merchandisin'.
Show biz. Clothes horse showdowns. "Zip me up."
I got equipped otherwise, to be sure.

As the pastor spoke, I thought of how churches had become museums, theaters, restaurants, coffee houses - night clubs even. Still all fixed assets, the fixtures probably liquidated and used, well, otherwise. But North Phoenix, struggling, should be vital for a while.

I sure haven't a thing against cowboys.

Don't like it when people put down others as "cowboys."
(We're talkin' when push comes to shove, and all that.)
No, ma'am. "Don't cross me." On the level.

So, thanks for all the work, Mom;

Lefty says to thank the nuns too.

The Feds say, "Careful there, old musket."

We Shall Prevail

Went back to Irene's class Sunday last.

How to trust in God: la - de - da.

Most excellent program. (Love the GUI!)

But I'm no single, and none of them seemed friendly.
(Saying they sound like broken records an understatement.)

Why are they so competitive looking?

"God works in mysterious ways, baby." said my grandmother one day long ago as we walked over the steel bridge crossing "the crick" in Palenville. Walked along some more and waved to Chance. Maybe I ran up to the well and gave it a few pumps. Then, the sound of the water too inviting, I raced to the swimming hole and went right in. Clear as a bell; many minnows!

Another afternoon there were boys torturing a bull frog. For fun.

I watched. I did not feel. I was scared. I left.

"They're mean, baby."

She taught me to tie my shoelaces.

Nothing to Lose

Can't think of anything sillier that referencing one's posts.
Yet I must reiterate - that woman is no good and of no interest.

Pearls before swine circumstance. Went to see real friends...
she snuck in. Another provocation. I was delivered.

Folks, I've been sanctified since circa 1976. Leave me be.

Bewildering Hostilities

Thought much about asking that woman I sat across from in the coffeeplace as to whether she'd like to go to another venue and watch the Suns go against San Antonio. (Let's say it's a poetry in motion for guys.) Quite up for the game, as it were.

Thought further; so what about the game - we could just talk.
(Some women don't like the gamesmanship.)

But she seemed disinterested and somewhat "superior."
Might have asked her; would she have gotten off turning me down?
Really too bad there was no respectful conversation - she was not.

Anyway, don't know her from Adam. Changed my mind.

Went home instead. Suns won. Not important.

Want no part of gender hostilities. See it all the time.

Society Wide Open

Talked with a fellow yesterday whom I've been nodding to for years. It was established some time ago that he was legalistic; thought he was a business manager for some law office. Turns out he's a lobbyist. A former Phoenix firefighter and union official. Intensely hip to "the process."

I had taken along, to the coffee house, The Oxford Companion to Philosophy for the purpose of captioning photographs. The happy medium between objective reality and the subjectivities at play thereupon, if you will. He had a look at the text and asked me if I was familiar with Karl Popper. I said I'd heard of him, but was unfamiliar.

We went on to have a wide-ranging discussion, touching on many subjects in the "political economy" along with the practicalities of "being here" as I was also processing my photographs. Hadn't experienced anything like this in years, and mentioned the all night long sessions in the dorm at Fordham College. Told him I would look into Popper.

I see he was a founder of the Mont Pèlerin Society along with Hayak and von Mises. The fellow told me that George Soros was interested in continuing their work, which didn't make sense to me since I've gathered that Soros, a patron of socialist activism, was not of the same school as Hayak by a long shot. At any rate, I've commenced to look into the matter.

To tell you the truth, I'd rather look at the picture than read the text - the single year of German not quite enough. Two "D"s; I'll never live it down. Frankly, I'd really rather be right there. But I'm here and now, being here another matter of "multi-tasking."

The music at the coffee place is jazzy and Big Bands. There's chatter all about. A woman across I'm ready to jump on. To say I'm on edge is an understatement indeed. Some comic relief indicated.

While finishing off this post, I inadvertently hit the publish button. I communicated that toward her - oops; didn't mean to. Go back. Fail safe. Don't worry about it. I wanted to ask her if she'd ever seen The Bedford Incident, where a slight misunderstanding brought on thermo-nuclear war.

"If he fires one, I'll fire one."

"Fire one."

Shrub and Company

A most challenging day.

Couldn't have done it without the Lord.

Tomorrow, church and quit smoking.
Looking forward to marvelous week.

Put it Up

For zeal for Your house has consumed me,
And the reproaches of those who reproach You
have fallen on me.

Psalm 69:9

Found the notes to Pastor's talk.
He asked, "Why are you here?"
Cause you're supposed to be, my instant response.

All under considerable "stress" I might digress.

There were a couple of twits behind me.

Twitting, snickering. Yukking it up generally.

They were distracting and irreverent in assembly!
So I turned, after a glance, and told them to be quiet.

All along, "Worse than washerwomen." redounded.
"Here the church, here's the steeple...

open the doors, there's the people." Get it?

Awful gossips; totally misinformed. To the grave.

The Pastor asked again, "What can't you stand?"

Thinking that through: Mexican standoff, if you please.

Why? They pick fights all the time; can't stand that.

Then can't stand yourself because you'd clobber them.

Well, it came down to annoyance and indignation.

Let it go and help 'em out anyway. Supposed to.

"Do you care?" Indeed we do. Take it easy. Be nice.

It will all work out; never the end of the world.

Almighty and most merciful Father, we humbly beseech Thee, of Thy great goodness, to restrain these immoderate rains with which we have had to contend. Grant us fair weather for Battle. Graciously hearken to us as soldiers who call upon Thee that, armed with Thy power, we may advance from victory to victory, and crush the oppression and wickedness of our enemies, and establish Thy justice among men and nations. Amen.

James O'Neill wrote that up . . .
December 1944 when Panzers met.
Quite defeated were they.

No problem, Pastor. We've already won.

PhotoReal

Quick picture showing what is mostly about.
Walls; imposing infrastructure; native survival; miracle of flight.
And out there: Parliamentary horse trading - Suns tomorrow.
Going into San Antone going to be, er, a challenge.

Don't have my notes from Pastor's sermon last Sunday.
Popeye getting fit to be tied; can't stand it no more.
(Oh yes, couldn't help but think of George Cantstandya!)
Neither did he mention Bluto; causus belli superfluous.

Despising Conflict

Came across a sadistic woman I hadn't encountered in a while.
Ridiculous circumstance, and an awkward imposition presented.
Some quite "annoying" communicative problematics there!
Trouble is, reduced to common denominator, don't trust her.


Water under get the picture.
Don't want to know her.
Evidently, she remains sadistic.
Who's she playing these days?

Conversant

Prattle not upon Coco, I demurred.
(That's #5, ye geezers... you knew that.)
When talk on the stools @ AJ's when.

Not AJ up the Front, but commentary.

Went to the commercialization of kultcha!

"They're not stoolies no more. C.I.s." Guffaw.

Then Brüno bringing up the rear:

Sir Paul? Displaced? Unmovèd? Done for.

No! Not AJ's was Guy's place was el Rancho.

Did not persist toward lax inclination:

"Indeed, sir; speak of the criminalization of life."

Cannot, sir, for they'd but greatly escoff. See.

Good thing the interlocutor familiar neighbor.

Some things much better left unsaid, friends.

Only the beginning of the day, later this.

Next Project

Have a ceramic bell to add under the expired yellow oleander.

Always forget, no matter how many times I look it up:

Thevetia peruviana. . . also known as Lucky. Tendencies?
Then this from Gothamist. Very old, awfully precious joke;

Gussie weaned!!!

Would be a chore and a half to build a birdhouse.
(I mean like I wouldn't do it for myself.)

So why, oh why would I do it for strangers?

No sense of obligation, truly, and que sera, really.

Interrupted but Finished

Getting done with a course on a deadline.
Only way to take a break far, far from madding stuff.

Three minutes left toward completion after airing.
Dinner in Toulouse as well; only other way to go.

At issue - short-term memory and hope to God.
All done. Pretty sure the date mentioned is tomorrow.

Rooked

A deadline today and I simply cannot get focused.
Haven't been taking my vitamins. B-plex too.
But, when in a tangle last month, didn't much help.
Excaped perverse circumstance; looking to come up roses.

I will not serve Mammon.
Period. (Caesars don't exist.) Come what may.
Essentially, it's a matter of attachments, no?
Bathetic experience shows "counting coup" applies.

Let it Be Your Umbrella

About ready to blast off to tip-off.
Will have to read this later; and thanks.

Could Be Better!

Full speed ahead and don't mind the stops.
Fully automatic; with a flash!
Who's got the time to do studies of wind chimes?
Something put up for someone who's put up with me.

The Suns go against the Spurs tonight.
San Antonio has out-muscled Phoenix in the past.
I believe they'll hold their own in this series.
Amare should determine that, we're confident.

And Grant Hill can shut down Ginobili.

Pass on it / Pass it on

There's no one, let alone any groups, doing Tai Chi in the parks hereabouts. Clearly a matter of (Masters of the Obvious, stand up and take a bow.) climate or, not the climate not temperate, but the clientele not being too global except for being from not here.

I'd like to do it in the hot tub.

Will need to laminate this, eh?

Once knew an internist who threw Ching dice. (The memory of herself came up this morning.) Not "on the job," but in a sort of comparison to allopathic diagnosis much like someone would compare investment prognostication with throwing darts.

There was a medical student sitting behind me at coffee.
Thought to turn and engage in "conversation" by the by.

Was an internist. Clinically sound; got into Ching dice on the side.
"Really."

Yeah, Chinese approach; the changes; the chances; the charade.
"You mean like throwing bones?"
Exactly.
"No kidding."
Don't do that.

Outstanding

(c) The Associated Press

Super Saver wins the Derby.
Some "issues" present; he was overly cropped, I feel.
(A good win nevertheless, on a soakèd track no less.)

And Savers is just about my favorite shopping destination!

Then there's (Not for profit here.) a copyright on the shot.

Nice Ride

It's gotten more convenient to go to the Bally's spa on Cave Creek.
Most activity in Phoenix, so the one nearest home gets distant.
Added benefit in attaining elevation and breadth, you betcha.
Stopped to have a look at an antique place. No reason in particular.



Of course the draft facsimiles were inquired of. Piece of change!
Looked around. Always in market for pinkie rings and bric-a-brac.
Found the Tool Department; with a 5 buck limit, what to get?
Made out well. Several items, as a matter of fact, of neat caché.