Another step forward in my evil plan MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Okay, well, maybe not an evil plan. Heck, maybe not even a plan…but it’s a step forward.
“Which evil plan?” the alert reader may ask…seems I usually have several in the works.
Three of them actually. Progress forward in all three this week.
More later.
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
This is Casper, our 22-pound Maine-Coon. He’s friendly, but opinionated…and extremely fond of the wife…fond is in ‘watch-dog’ fond…or ‘will sacrifice his life for her’ fond.
He’s a very solid cat…lots of muscle and extremely strong.
Five of his six ends are all pointy.
Just to put things in their proper perspective, in the picture below, that orange thing behind him is a yard stick (3 feet or approx 1 meter).
A public service announcement:
If you’re a stranger to the Meyer casa, don’t menance the wife and don’t pick him up without his consent…
That is all.
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
It dawned on me today that my wife is a gadget freak. It shouldn’t have surprised me, after all, I’m one myself. I love gadgets.
For Christmas last year, my Dad gave me a little electronic thermometer…it has a battery operated indoor display and a little battery operated remote sensor that mounts outside and transmits the temperature, humidity, and pressure to the indoor unit.
Like all such things nowadays, it’s made in China and of questionability quality and reliability.
A month or so ago it quit displaying the outside data. Obviously the battery in the little remote transmitter was dead. Unfortunately it’s a specialized battery and a bit expensive. I’d guess it costs about what the entire unit did…and there’s actually two of them (one inside and one outside).
Frankly, I figured unless I could find the batteries cheap that I’d just toss the thing.
Not so fast. The wife’s been bugging me to fix it. She finally went out and actually bought the batteries for it. This is significant, as it involved her taking the effort to figure out just what kind of battery fit it.
“What’s the hurry?” says I. “After-all, you can just poke your head out the door to see what the temperature is.”
She looked hurt…glancing up at me with those ‘puppy dog’ eyes (them wimmin…they know us well, yes?)
In her most demure voice (the one she uses when I’m being particularly stupid) she says, “Because I think it’s cool!”
She thinks it’s cool?
Well…I think that’s cool. Still not sure why it surprised me. She married me after-all!
‘Nuff said!
Cheap electronic gadget is now operational.
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
Remember “Tootsie Pops”?
Memory. Smell. Cool morning air. Exposed to the elements astride my machine.
Powerful stuff.
Yeah, morning comes early around here. Five am and I’m already on the road, pushing the big cruiser hard down the lightly used freeways.
Cool and crisp…the first hint that fall is actually in the air. I can feel my speed…the slipstream blowing the hair on my bare arms against skin that is hypersensitive to the motion due to the goosebumps and chill. It’s probably time for a jacket…but I’m not ready…yet.
I shiver in near delight, even while dodging an errant cage driver that seems intent on running me up against the center barrier.
Downtown looms. Today, for some reason, it smells like grape. Not grapes the fruit, but grape candy…the purple “tootsie pops” of an era that for me, seems to have gone by. The smell is so pervasive that I can nearly taste one…wishing for nothing more than to crunch down through the hard sugary candy and into the chewy chocolate tootsie roll center.
I am reminded that simple pleasures seemed enough when I was a child and wonder why they are not now.
Visions, triumphs, and regrets plow their way through my soul on the rest of the ride. For a change, they all balance out in the end. There are no demons to fight this day.
I wonder what that means?
Y’all be safe…or at least fun!
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
Bacon Cinnamon Rolls.
Yeah. BACON CINNAMON ROLLS!
This is truly the work of evil genius. (Linky thing…)
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
(snnnniiiifffFFFFF). Yep, I can smell it.
I’m headed into east Texas to meet some friends for barbeque.
The bad news is I’ve got to work tonight.
The good news is that means lots of high-speed running on The Dragon.
Oh yeah…it’s going to be a good day!
I hope yours is the same!
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
Random Journalage:
A conversation ‘tween me and the wife…early in our marriage:
ME: (takes hands off her ass and grabs her on the breasts) “Damn. Makes me
wish I had more hands.”
HER: (lauging) “Best as I can tell, you have about six!”
Hasn’t changed much…
Life’s what you make of it…at least make it fun!
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
Something over 300 years ago an English poet named Alexander Pope said, “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.”
I’ve always liked the quote…simply because to me, it means “No limits.”
Angels have no fear, you see.
I’ve always tried to live my life without fear. Mostly, I’ve succeeded. I’d like to think so anyway.
No fear. There are benefits, but there are costs too.
I’ve flown…and fallen.
I’ve done great things…and failed spectacularly.
I’ve found the love of my life…and experienced pain no man should endure.
I’ve vanquished my demons…just in time to find new ones.
I ride. I fly. I love. I live.
“Passion as principle.” It’s a hell of a thing. When exercised fully, it should mean “No regrets.” I have regrets. Damn few of them though.
From an old rambling of mine:
When it breaks, I fix it
When it falls, I pick it up
When it threatens, I subdue it
When it persists, I kill it
That is my creed, my mantra, my doctrine
Not really a choice, parts of me just are
I am a mover. A doer. A builder. A fixer.
There is little beyond my reach.
Yeah.
So why then, am I sitting here in the middle of the night…pondering decisions…questioning what is the right thing…the smart thing…the safe thing?
As I’ve aged I find myself evaluating more, and “leaping” less. Is this experience? Or just comfort disguising itself as misgivings?
Everything positive in my life…EVERYTHING that I’ve succeeded at…EVERYTHING that I makes me what I am has been the result of taking a risk…some of them not even calculated. Sure, I’ve fallen too. I’ve screwed up, failed, lost money, lost love, and lost friends.
Hell, once I lost an entire motorcycle, but the bike was small and the mud was deep and that’s another story.
Without risk, I wouldn’t have my home, many of my firiends, my lover, my job, my motorcycle, my books, my art…without risk I would simply be surviving…instead of living.
But where’s the line? Risk or folly? How much role should my passion play in determining my risk? When should I leap, and when should I cower?
Tough questions, those…
Mostly, my instincts have served me well, but as I’ve aged I’ve found myself occasionally hesitant to move…to pounce.
Is that experience? Am I too comfortable? Or is it something else?
I’ve regretted it…that hesitiation…on occasion. “He who hesitates is lost.”
The full quote is, “He who hesitates is lost. Swift and resolute action leads to success; self-doubt is a prelude to disaster.”
That’s from “Cato”, by another English poet, Joseph Addison…also about 300 years ago.
And so here I sit…in the middle of the night where my demons roam…questioning my instincts despite knowing they’ve always served me reasonably well…wondering whether the uncertianty is legitimate experience or something else…wondering…WONDERING…whether to act on my passion.
Wondering whether “Passion as principle” has a place in my life. Wondering whether passion now or regret for not acting is going to hurt more later. Or will acting on my passion lead to regret later?
What is this feeling? Doubt? Fear? Am I hungry?
It’s a new feeling for me.
I don’t like the taste of it.
Where angels fear to tread. No limits. Fear itself. Media blitz. Doom. Gloom.
Love. Life. Desire.
Live. Ride. See. Fly.
Things are within my grasp…but should I lose my grip, it’s a long way to fall.
I’ve been told at times to remove the emotion from the decision making process. I don’t see the point. I can’t even imagine where I’d be today if I’d done that in my life. Passion drives me. Passion moves me. Passion and emotion define me. I do what I do…because I’m passionate about it.
Remove the passion, and what else is left?
Passion as principle.
Is the flight worth the fall?
And still I have no answers.
I hope y’all are sleeping better than I am.
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
Last weekend, my friend and co-worker Robert, whilst taking a leisurely jaunt about the hood, t-boned an attacking dog with his bicycle. The short of it is, He fought the dog, and the dog won.
Robert went down hard and broke his hip. He’s since had surgery, yah know…screws and plates and a forever hassle in airport security, and is expected to be off his feet for 6 weeks or more.
So, Robert joins “Team Faceplant, Bicycle goes Scrunch Division”, which is a collection of friends and coworkers that have required hospitalization and/or ambulance services after going out for a morning bicycle ride. We motorcyclists keep telling them they need to take up a safer hobby…like chainsaw juggling, snake charming, or even motorcycling.
My friend Ron, who also illustrates my books, whipped up this design for the “Team” after a rather large number of them had been down. We think it’s about 100% of them now. Bicycling is dangerous business.
Robert will be presented with a polo shirt that has this design, a matching coffee mug, and of course, a yellow “Team Faceplant” jersey (bicyclists have something about a yellow jersey representing the champion or something).
Y’all have fun with your chainsaws, snakes, or motorcycles…but for heaven’s sake, be careful with those bicycles!
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
Interesting dealings are afoot…muhahahahaha! Yeah, that’s the good news. I’ll tell you about it later.
The bad news…I’ve got friends from the coast with homes that are damaged or destroyed. Some are minor…trees down and some lost shingles, some are more serious…missing roof and destroyed interior…some…well, some are just plain missing. One text message from the island simply said, “There’s no reason for us to be here. We can’t even find our street.”
I feel for them all…I’ve had damaged and destroyed homes of my own. And I feel helpless…and for some wierd reason, guilty.
Helpless because the distance and infrastructure problems there make it impractical for me to help in any meaninful way…and guilty because I am so used to simply jumping in the fray and doing what I can.
Y’all take care…and for my friends and others in the southeast Texas area, I’m thinking of you and yours.
CUAgain,
Daniel Meyer
