I hear people talk.  It’s the centuries old “what is this world coming to” thing.  Is it especially true now?  You look at what’s going on in the Middle East.  Wasn’t that a prophecy?  Look at the weather.  In our neck of the woods we’ve had more rain than Seattle since the first of the year.  I don’t know if that’s a prophecy, but it should be.  Weren’t there supposed to be mudslides?

I’m pretty sure there was something about the rivers overflowing their banks and turning into a huge latte.  Am I wrong?

What about larvae laying down with locusts, I’m pretty sure that’s one.

I know there’s hail in there somewhere.

The sun just came out.  Never mind.

Just the fact that we have Blogs is kind of an ego trip.  We post and our special people tell us how wonderful we are.  It really is a great thing.  I’ve found out that writing a book is kind of the same thing only painful.  It’s a lot of work.  This post will be short and sweet cause I want to get back to it.  I’m hoping to have it done by June.   Who knows, maybe with enough of this ego thing I’ll be able to join Charlie Sheen’s fan club.

I’ve often noticed how Pat Sajak takes a woman’s hand and takes her to the bonus round.  If it’s a man he just kind of expects the guest to follow him and stop while he points at his place to stand. 

All the high fives and low fives and fist butts and chest slams and back pats that men do to each other is a very American thing, I think.  Why is it so hard for straight men to show affection?  I was going to say that this is so old school, but it isn’t.  This is all new, at least in the last century or two.  Men have been kissing and holding hands in public in Europe and the middle east for centuries.  It doesn’t mean a thing.  I think that most straight men just need a big old, full on, bear hug.  Maybe even a peck on the neck.  Can we please just mellow out? 

No pictures, just an observation.

      THIS IS YOUR BODY

                                              THIS IS YOUR BODY ON KAISER

                                                   ANY QUESTIONS?

     I’m a little squeamish when it comes to dental work, but Craig is a down right wuss.  He had some work done on Friday, easy stuff like replacing old fillings.  I had to take the day off to take him to and from because he had to load up on Valium.  He had what I called the Homeless hole.  He of course had to have gas.  He doesn’t remember if they gave him Novocaine.  He also had me cue up The Carpenters greatest hits on the iPod.  Now he’s all set.  Our dentist really is quite old school and his equipment looks exactly like the equipment they used when we were kids.  There is a reason to be a little concerned, and who am I to talk.  My flying Phobia is almost out of control.  He drives a 1979 mustang fast back.  It’s not in great shape either, but I’ll bet he bought it new.      Actually I don’t go to him anymore.  I had a bad experience with a crown.  I am spending way too much time with doctors lately.  I’ve decided to play grown up and actually get my blood work done and fix the blood pressure and stuff.  It has been awful so far.  The drugs my Doctor gave me at the same time for several different ailments make me real sick.  This too shall pass.  I have resisted western medicine for so long and now I’m in the thick of it.  Go figure. 

     Is everyone well?

               What I don’t miss will be mostly a pictorial.  We’ll start with snow.   

                How about the inversion layer.

                                                                                                                                      How about the politics.                                                            

     Strip malls.

     and kids, everywhere.

     There is much more but I don’t want to offend.  How about you?

     Moving from Salt Lake I thought I would never miss anything,  I moved away once and had to move back.  I moved again for good.  I have had years of nightmares where I am stuck in Salt Lake and couldn’t leave.  I wake up almost in tears.  There are still some things I miss.  I have said this before and I’ll say it again, Training Table cheese fries, not to mention the hawaiian hamburger. 

Another thing we can’t find here is a good greek restaurant.  My life for a good gyro.

Since California is the Florida of the west, all of our good produce gets shipped away.  I got better avocado’s in Utah.  Lemons and limes here are just so-so and tomatoes suck.  Every summer I crave a good Utah tomato.  Our nights get too foggy and cold for tomatoes to do well.  I miss fry sauce.  Doesn’t exist here.

And then there are the freeways.

    None of these things could even come close to making me want to move back.  If I had to move from California I would probably go just about anywhere else before I would go back there.  It’ll be in my book.  What do you miss about home?  If you’re somewhere else.

I don’t like facebook.  I feel too exposed.  But one thing it does do is allow every one to post pictures.  I would like to see every ones holiday pictures.  We had a great christmas dinner with friends.  It was a great finish to a wonderful holiday season. 

I read a book.  Well, read and skimmed.  Really I did.  It was called “The Practice of Writing Memoir”.  This is what I learned.  Let me know what you think.

As I sit in my silvery, stark, stainless steel kitchen set, in the hollow, sparse, slightly cold, great room, I look out the big, winter dirty, spider web laced window at the volumnanously tall, drenched, dripping, drowning, redwoods.  (Redwoods are a first cousin to the Sequoias…)  I’m reminded of a distant , past, vague, memory that reminds me of my fourth grade teacher with her wet, dank, dark, drippy, odiferous arm pits.  Her name was Mrs. Grant.  (Sister Grant to the fourth ward.)   And squirrels are scurrying up and down the drenched, dripping, drowning, redwoods.  But I digress. 

Ummm…the redwood deck is also damp, which reminds me, of the cold, cavernous, moist, damp, wet deck at Deer Valley.  I worked there two winters. 

Speaking of first cousins, I remember a time when my second cousin sold us a house.  It was dark, dank. dreary, but not drippy.  But it leaned to the north.

I’ve been working for somebody else since I was 12.  Some jobs have been good and others have been really bad.  The job I have now is not bad at all.  I’m respected and have a lot of freedom, not to mention great benefits.  I still don’t want to be there.  Both Craig and I were thinking of a way that I could work at the candy store part time and we could cut hours of our existing employees.  I went to a tree lighting ceremony on the town green and didn’t make it to the lighting.  Bottom line is I don’t like crowds, kids, candy.  What kind of a candy store employee would I be.  Here are some pictures of the event. 

 I’m going part time at work starting Jan.1.  This might really help.  I would like to free up some time to write a book.  I decided I’d start by actually reading one.  I’m in the prossess of doing that now.  We’ll see what happens.  Do you think that “Poor Picked on Little Gay Mormon Boy” is a little too much for a title?