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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 12, 2018 - 05:52am PT
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"Dare I say it"
Monday Morning Edition
President Donald Trump
The White House
Washington, DC.
Dear Mr. President:
Let me tell you, sir, you need to fire whoever is writing your tweets.
It's a start. Your image has been trashed globally, not just nationally.
In fact, on your home planet, Mars, they question your integrity.
You no doubt have heard the allegations that men are from Mars,
while women are from Venus.
I don't think much of this statement, but I also don't think this is a fence-riding issue, sir.
Either it's true or false: There are no Gray areas here.
You are elected to represent both sexes, not just male sexist pussy grabbers.
Get with it and let us see how much your oath of office means to you.
Your political incorrectness speaks for itself.
Get rid of that moron who does your tweets.
With all due sincerity,
Mouse From Merced
#Fool for Skirts
#Venus Fly Trapper
#Martian Crankloon
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 12, 2018 - 07:55pm PT
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I just now talked with the Reverend Mathis on the phone.
I informed him of Bridwell's illness and he in turn told me his diagnosis of stage 4 bone cancer is confirmed. He will begin chemo with pills and injections shortly and it's merely a matter of time before the big C wins.
Day by day, we both agreed. He is not able to do hardly any work, like raking leaves or bringing in firewood. Bill Nickell has been good enough to do some of that toting for him, as his sister-in-law lives part-time at Camp Runamucka and cooks for him.
He's now on the wagon, as am I. I told him of the fictional owner of the bookshop/gunshop in Edward Abbey's A Fool's Progress who was asked by his visiting friend "What's the worst thing that can happen to a man?" And as Abbey had it, the answer was, "He's got to stop drinking."
As I wrote in the funding Bridwell thread, we should have been dead when we were younger, but we lucked our way into much longer lives than either of us expected. Now, as I say, the Camp 4 days and the Sunset Inn nights are over, and midnight approaches for both of us. It's the eleventh hour.
I will be counting myself lucky to get to travel with hooblie to the OR coast soon if we can pull it off, and then to go to the Robbins memorial next month, courtesy of Ron Gomez. God willing I might make it to Facelift for more than just a single day this year. As I say, it's one day at a time.
Plan for the best, but expect the worst is pragmatism at its best. I know it can always rain on my parade at any moment. I think I'm ready for whenever the hour strikes midnight.
What really hurts is that my daughter has not called or written in the interval between Christmas eve and now. I'm leaving it up to her, though. It is what it is and I'm not gonna push her.
I've always got my sister to talk to on the phone, too, so I should say goodnight and let you get on with your lives and make a call to her.
Peaceful dreams.
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Feb 12, 2018 - 08:39pm PT
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Mathis. Wow. Trying to come up with something irreverent. No luck.
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Feb 12, 2018 - 08:45pm PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 12, 2018 - 09:03pm PT
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Trump is going all out by declaring war on the poor, to my way of thinking.
LBJ is rolling in his grave.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2018/02/12/trump-wants-to-slash-food-stamps-and-replace-them-with-a-blue-apron-type-program/?utm_term=.59669cacfa0d
“It boggles the mind how that would play out,” said Kathy Fisher, policy director at Philadelphia’s Coalition Against Hunger. “We know SNAP works now, when people can choose what they need. How they would distribute foods to people with specialized diets, or [to people in] rural areas … It’s very expensive and very complicated.”
The proposal is also likely to enrage food retailers — particularly Walmart, Target and Aldi — that stand to lose billions if food stamp benefits are cut, analysts say. On Monday, the Food Marketing Institute, a trade association for grocery stores, condemned the Harvest Box proposal as expensive, inefficient and unlikely to generate any long-term government savings.
http://thehill.com/homenews/administration/373507-trump-proposes-restricting-choices-for-food-stamp-recipients
https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/trump-budget-food-stamps_us_5a81d9fce4b0c6726e160112
I already eat quite a lot of beans, not so much rice, though. But the plan the administration is selling affects families who now get over $90/month in assistance. I receive $58/month on my EBT card. It was just lowered by $8/month beginning this month. So I will still be able to buy what I want, not what they want to send me. I never buy canned meats. My CHF demands my diet be low in sodium and not to add salt to my cooked food. So I am okay, it seems. But what of other households, the 16 million plus who have to deal with this proposed BS plan?
I'm ok with a more-than-filling meal at the Cinema Cafe of a morning and taking the portion I can't eat home to put in the fridge. That pot of lentil soup I made last Friday just got finished tonight, too. And yogurt goes a long ways. Heck, nneeeebbeeee makes her own yogut...I've yet to try it, but will be doing so very soon, beginning next month.
Just sayin'.
And Throwpie, it's okay to joke. You have my blessing, though your don't really need it. We are used to black humor around here. It helps us get through the tough times and makes us think, eh?
"I want to die peacefully and in my sleep like grandpa...not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car."
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 12, 2018 - 11:15pm PT
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I enjoyed Mathis' weenie roast on the 4th of July, an annual affair. This one was in 2013.I spent a lot of time here in the seventies with my first wife. Then in the eighties on my own. I got to know the way nearly blindfolded between Merced and Hardin Flat. A couple of weekends spent partying at the Bluegrass Festival, several trips up the hill with our old buddy Johnny Feaver, and in 1990 I spent a night here in one of Bill Nickell's rental cabins with Liz on our honeymoon.
Jeff and Denny, his squeeze for many years now, following a string of GFs a mile long in Groveland and Yosemite.
Jeff Stubbs gets credit for the reunion pix. He's still in contact with Mathis, but isn't doing well himself, either. He's in Bishop.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 14, 2018 - 08:36am PT
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A re-post for Valentino's Day
from the original Flames thread.
Messages 5892 - 5911 of February 2, 2015
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Thanks for Cher-ing.
Someone SHOULD comment on the shape SHE'S in. Not as good as Chele, I should note...
Aw, man, there I go again...dishing compliments to the choir.
Paging No Doctor...young boy at heart needs Tender Loving Cher but cannot get enough.
Zoe used to tell folks she was 'happily divorced.'
When is an Allman Joy best? When it's Cher-ed.
Meadow weddin' is a tradition tried by many-many. Sharing your life with a wife is as serious as your first climb. If I say "I do" I do mean it. Even if I can't, my intentions were good.
It's not just an interesting 'experiment' like takin' the first hit, either. If we could only live life in reverse, if we could only remember how very f-ed up our previous lives were in the present one, then we would be like, immortal.
But we get so tired by the time we're old and readying to go, our bodies cry out for vengeance on our treatment of them, and there is so much about life that WE CAN'T CONTROL in actual fact, though at the time we are confident or hopeful, anyway, that some of us give up and fade.
That's not what I want, but it's what would feel best to my body, wanting its rest.
There is no peace, true peace, this side of the crypt.
All I know is that when the warm fuzzies come, at my age, with my poor circulation and lack of warm blood, they are so very much appreciated.
It's why I pray. That warm result often ensues. Whether it works for you, I don't specially care.
I'm just an old poor boy sittin' quietly at home, now, mostly; and it's as peaceful as I can do for myself--except for the prayin' and the fuzzies, life would really suck.
Some are afraid of becoming shut-ins, and at an early age, this is tragic. My heart really goes out. It's pain you're feeling, and I'm just me, and I do what I can for others.
That is what makes neebee so special. She never stops.
For a long time that was the rationale for doing drugs...feeling good.
It's what being a good parent or spouse or employee (okay, we can draw the line back at spouse) is about...feeling good about making others feel good. It's probably why each of us is here, but some don't realize it.
It's just that now I'm aged, I feel even better when I can sit in the dark like a ripening cheese and think how groovy life is deprived of vision, sound, distractions. And when the neighborhood's gone quiet, gone to bed, gone to Nod, and the dogs even are quiet, including Muttso upstairs who barks constantly when she leaves...
THERE'S STILL THAT DAMN INTERSTATE'S CONSTANT NOISE!
(Well, the 99 isn't the Interstate, but it's just as noisy.) And the trains. And there are two, not just one, tracks. I'm surrounded. Thank God Castle AFB closed. B-52s make a lot of racket.
Desert dwelling nomads were wise to dwell so.
It's just too bad that camel hair cloth tents smell so.
And the hubble-bubble goes out
because you've fallen asleep
listening to the rain on the tent;
And that's a rare event.
Plus you miss most of the lightning storm off in the hinterlands, too.
One can't argue with success.
One can only accept the blame, if blame attaches.
Like meeting someone and walking out into the future
and never parting,
always sharing,
even the occasional farting.
Such sweet tomorrows from yesterdays sweeter than wine
And such sweet dreams.
Let me say, it's nice to have such a family as the Flames.
David Bowie/Girls
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MEvRu91hReo
Preceding ramble is bought and paid for by
PINE, REPINE, DWINDLE
Divorce attorneys-at-law.
You have only one life, but may have more than one wife.
We're here for you, time after time.
Frank/Time After Time
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=geOdtA7N6Kk
(Thank you, Marlow, for your pretty compliment re this one.)
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 14, 2018 - 09:11am PT
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I gave her every piece I had gotten from my buddy Raoul over the last couple of weeks.
Every time he sees you, if he likes you, he'll fish out a candy and give it to you.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 14, 2018 - 12:55pm PT
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to ol’ twitch at the g spot
manyfolded ideities surround your Psyche
having sampled of manny them myselves
allow one of me to relate driftily down our stream of non-consciousness
parent thetically
that u plural have been a sort of Mentor
and that i am in love with many of your men/women
whimsy was mimsy in the borogrims
greasy were the holds which appeared
long was the fall potens
trajic tormented carcass lying waiting with carry-on baggage
while eye climbed the tortuous tors
and had no rope no trappings
like suspenders to hold up my pants
food for thought to fill my ache-filled heart
and sherpas to carry the accumulation of bags of dirt
and then aye found u pluralities
surronded by surreal sundry nightmares
devil taking those of me who could not follow
I latched onto the trail rope of your blind verse
on a valentine day to remember
my various vagrant thinks admire your balls
and your breats too big for their bindin’
and the stickieshoes you eschoo
in favor of putting your feet
where your moughths are
somewhere back of your ears
and what big organs they are
Telemacuss was lucky to have u/us
Psyche is lusted after by godsend men
but by pudding meselves on your uneven level
aye-aye am Mabel to open the lock on the baggage claim desk
in the bus depow of tomorrow
so let the whirled beware
for dragoons be there with other munsters
fit for nothin’ more than shaggin’
like an old-found pillow
or dewin’ the dog
while belayin’ the rest of you/we plural
instad of payin’ out attention to our whild and wooliness
have you ever climbed in the borogrime?
me wondered*
* i/u don't dew rewrites so speak now or forever peace
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 14, 2018 - 05:04pm PT
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And again, I say, "Thank God somebody understands me."
I don't understand my dreams sometimes:
I woke from this afternoon's second snooze having dreamt
I was working in a store a big city store and it was my first day
but there was not training day and the crowd rushed in and it was me alone
against the mob most of whom were garret-dwelling posers
but willing to buy the crap that was being sold.
I spent lots of time looking for a pen for this one gal to sign
the paper that would put her into further debt and a bag just the right size
but it was hopeless and so she got a huge bag for her small item
and walked out without signing so I signed it myself when I found the pen.
One guy in line was a fan who repeated one of my poems by memory
while I could only stand amazed and mutter a few words that came to me
as he recited though by this time the crowd had thinned and the rest of the staff appeared
from thin air back from their own naps.
This friend of his said when he finished that here in the city of words my poetry was considered
to be masterful and touching and capable of raising a tear and a smile but I pointed out to him
and his friend with the stout memory
that I was a veteran of the punctuation war
and had led a brigade of words
into the fray against a fortified hill held by commas and their allies.
I had shell shock PTSD and stuttered badly for years until someone
took the time to show me how to confront my fears
of question marks colons and semicolons and especially the deadly exclamation point.
I had made friends of both right and left parentheses and worshipped the ground walked on
by hash tags while my own allies and but if and owed my life
to run-on sentences who managed to save me in the battle for last word hill.
His response was to ask me to lay down quietly behind the counter while he laughingly
dropped little goat-turds of dope on me which soon covered me up
and when he had left I got one of the over-sized bags and placed them inside and went home to my own garret
on rue de boheme near the corner of lonely street and gower avenue
and placed them in this poem which I am now writing but just decided to end with no period but an ellipsis...
#Dirtbagpoetsociety/#Retroprocity/#Warofwords/#Cumshawrebellion
Poor kahlil died a drunkard it is said but I wonder if he died with a tear on his smiling face.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 14, 2018 - 06:16pm PT
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After penning that poem I proceeded to visit Miss Pease for a short time to share the glow of Valentine's Day.
It's what you do on this day, share, if you have someone with whom to do so.
Laurie had the TV on and "The place is a mess" was shunted aside by her smile, so nice to see.
She'd not been expecting a visitor but she had sent a text message and called once just after I awoke from my snooze #2, which I missed.
She got a call back while my tea brewed and she mentioned pictures. It was a mystery to me, these pics.
She explained when I got to her place that they were emojis and showed them to me on her phone (her NEW PHONE, capable of communicating with Mars, where I'm from--I live a John Carteresque existence, as you know).
I have no way of seeing them on my Cricket Basic Communication Device (CBCD), so that solved the mystery of the pics.
She then showed me some postcards she'd saved from the eighties and a trip to the Big Island shed made then with a GF. They were pretty cool. I'd given her one from Hawaii much earlier last week.
We talked a bit more and then the news came on at 5:30 showing footage from yet another school shooting.
She said she'd followed the story today and I hastily made my excuse that I was intending to shoot the sunset so I better skedaddle.
I didn't care to see the scenes of another RAMPAGE ON OUR SCHOOLGROUNDS.
I don't want to get into any kind of discussion on the subject, with anyone, anytime, especially today.
It is what it is and our country is sick-o and that's all there is to say as far as I am concerned.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Feb 14, 2018 - 09:07pm PT
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Not Ferris Bowler
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 14, 2018 - 09:16pm PT
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Devil In the White City, eh?
I just now finished watching Horatio Hornblower succumbing to honor by offering his hand to Miss Maria Mason in the Hornblower Series episode "Loyalty."
A fitting end to Valentine's Day, what?
I must say, however, that the earlier episode, "The Duchess and the Devil" was much more to my liking.
The best you can say about HH is that he was lucky in war but not in love.
My best to that lucky lady Chele.
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Feb 14, 2018 - 09:51pm PT
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hey there, say, mouse... that is the most lovely wedding photo!!!
oh my, and the sweet candy, and the pink dress!!
i love that so much... very very sweet...
say-- i just made lentils tonight...
i was fasting for a lot of my friends...
will post a pic... just a sec...
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Feb 15, 2018 - 01:48am PT
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That looks great! And your stove is so clean, too!
I added a cooked cauliflower to my soup today.
It was vegetarian except I used caldo de res, which is Spanish for beef broth.
I am so glad to hear from you here on the Flames.
You bring a ray of sunshine and good vibes with you nearly each visit.
Tellin' you the truth, I have been a little bummed this evening about this 'n' that, but now it's out of my hands and given away to the good Lord.
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