Very good, all you people who didn’t vote for Ron Paul. Pony up. Here’s the tax you'll pay for being obstinate--food prices. Your “stimulus package” was fueled by printed dollars with no value. And here is how you will be paying for it. This is just the beginning and I know the least intelligent will think they can avoid the prices by buying something else. But once anything, including bread, breaks that $5 barrier, away she goes and nobody knows. Soon.
The Frenchies are back. I share a laundry room with the Frenchies, and one thing that always amazes me is how they can be so inconsiderate. The machines are electronic, and you can see how much time is left on a washer. Yet, they will come in, see five minutes left on my cycle, and load up all four dryers. They won’t leave you one free. So I have to come back a third time to finish my single tubful. I don’t speak French, but I can stare up at the ceiling with that universal “How do they know?” look pretty damn well. Even frogs understand that look.Also, the lady next door is a light sleeper and complains when I’m up listening to music on the radio before 5:00 AM. This is often my most productive time. What I can’t figure out is why such people live in a city, but I’d rather have that than neighbors with a barking dog. Besides, they go back to Quebec in a month. Oh, before I forget, the $19 dog bark beeper from Radio Shack is one of their few products worth the price and it definitely works very well. And for that price, why build one myself? The robot club no longer has barking dog problems.
By late evening, after an extended coffee at Dekka, I went to the Karaoke show. Eddie was present and we got to complaining how the same people always sang the same tunes. As a mild challenge (my idea, but we’ll let Eddie again take the credit), we agreed to enter pairs of new songs that neither of us had ever done before (in Karaoke). We probably changed the character of the show. I did around seven new tunes, Eddie with his 20 years experience, did twice that. What a dynamite evening!
Nobody knew, but I once more sang the very songs Trent and I have been working on. That’s the second consecutive instance where these arrangements have brought down the house. Eddie’s show was the usual great, but in no way matches my audience participation. His act never involves the crowd where mine is totally immersed in it. I have every intention of capitalizing on this distinction.
Thanks to an unexpected series of phone calls, I experienced a night of restless dreams, so you budding psycho types can interpret this. It ain't pretty. I was back in the granary, a defenseless kid listening to my mother go on about six mouths to feed. She, you know, said this when there were, you know, two mouths, and three, then four, and so on. You probably think I'm joking when I tell you I had to beg my own family to leave me alone every day. If I needed to think, I had to go stand outside at forty below behind the wood pile. This limited thinking to bouts of five minutes, but that still outdistances the rest of my family combined.
Please remember, we were not poor people and my parents had very high paying jobs. My parents forced me to have nothing for it was well known if left alone I would and could make the rest of them look lazy. They were. I was not malicious, I was simply doing things like playing the piano, or saxophone, or getting high marks. I was trying to make the best of a bad situation for I knew once I got out of there I would never have a chance to do such things again.
I was certainly right about that. So analyze away. Better yet, analyze my mother who laid the guilt trip on me. Like, to make it up to her, I should quit school in grade nine and go become a farm laborer. You think I’m kidding, don’t you? Some analyst!
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