tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58553442011-04-21T15:56:16.680-05:00Black and Tan ruthlessness with a velvety soft fist of furySimple Simonnoreply@blogger.comBlogger261100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1107557746467393582005-02-04T16:55:00.000-06:002005-02-04T16:55:46.466-06:00

Here we go again Is it just me or has anyone else been suffering a case of deja vu? In late 2002 and early 2003, I remember there was a slow but steady increase in the Bush administration mentioning the dreaded word: Iraq. Now, it seems, as though they have begun this process anew, substituting one lonely letter to create a new word of despair: Iran. The talk about attacking Iran certainly seems

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1107535133903450992005-02-04T09:46:00.000-06:002005-02-04T10:39:46.476-06:00

Great, it is working. So for a short time the ability topost was lost. Gotta do some quick clean-up of the posts. The feedback from the last post was grim. I read it back and have to agree. So much boring self-pity and loathing. Not like I lost a limb or anything. . . Reading the newspaper today makes me feel like washing my hands. So many creeps and cretins--like this kid: http://

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1105136681497102512005-01-07T15:08:00.000-06:002005-01-07T16:24:41.510-06:00

Blasted new year. No, not emphasis on the "occasion" that is celebrated but just the fact that it is new. 2004 left so much undone or overdone. Kinda like I always make eggs. Either runny or rubbery but never really just right. And if eggs are protein (and other good stuff the consistency of snot and such) and akin to meat (come with me on this) which I typically like medium rare to rare

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1103057102975425322004-12-14T14:43:00.000-06:002004-12-14T14:45:02.976-06:00

Just happened to drop by this post opportunity and thought I would. Counting down a few minutes before an interview with a prospective employee. We shall see. . .

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1101766840668246832004-11-29T15:25:00.000-06:002004-11-29T16:20:40.666-06:00

And I quote, "If an alarm rings, who calls the fire department?" --Door County Advocate November 27th-28 2004. Apparently the building code in Sturgeon Bay requires that all commercial properties have a "hard wired" alarm system installed but it is not required to be connected to any outside service or have any connection to municipal systems. This seems to me to be an example of a good

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1101318064921915462004-11-24T11:26:00.000-06:002004-11-24T11:41:04.920-06:00

So, to begin: http://www.godhatesshrimp.com This is the wackiest thing I have seen in a while. I wonder about all of these holidays. Whatever this Thankgiving thing is seems like a sham to me. Spending this time "giving thanks" for whatever is much less of a romantic holiday notion than some of the good ones that have to do with mourning the death of people or persons long since deceased.

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1100810684497563752004-11-18T14:32:00.000-06:002004-11-18T14:44:44.496-06:00

Butter-crunch in the nutbin. Finally some peace with the squirrel nut-puncher gone--off to a land of her own make-believe among the other hoodo-guru's of the once-was and now will-never- again- be. Wonder how many of these types start out crazy--right from birth--and just have their cloak of protection unfurled by over-indulgent parents and the easiest of roads rolled out before them. How is it

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1071959280990548772003-12-20T16:28:00.000-06:002003-12-20T16:28:15.866-06:00

No this was not lonliness, but just the thoughts in my head--last post. Maybe the same thoughts in my dughters head--a sort of pleasant melancholy. Do not read me as "alone" or as "morose." It is simply put on as a preist wears a collar. Faith by the fistful. Lost in the land. But I am so far from melancholy, morose or lost. Usually cynically upbeat while waiting for the next

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1071635296298555092003-12-16T22:11:00.000-06:002003-12-16T22:34:43.523-06:00

Sadness. . .when we find pleasure in our own pain. It is anti-social. I am a miscreant. Morose and melancholy is fine, but when will the self-imposed suffering stop. This is positive week. Or positively weak. What is your white elephant? Marcus is missed. He is slowly slipping into persona non grata. What can become of the lost when it is not the island of lost boys? Is Emily now

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1070942704237930822003-12-08T21:45:00.000-06:002003-12-08T22:07:07.313-06:00

Among the Thugs. "The very man who came running to oppose the murder of an innocent person is the first to be seized with the homicidal cantagion, and moreover, it does not occur to him to be astonished at this." But what is astonishing is that this is more than Gabriel Tarde's thoughts penned in 1912, but it is a social phenomena that we still hold in many forms--we rubber-neck the car crash,

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1070336821078668352003-12-01T21:40:00.000-06:002003-12-01T21:50:20.523-06:00

Feeling pinned down. Put it out there and then it is likely to come back to you. It will have many forms, but why should I be surprised when the form it returns in is "1's" and "2's"? It may be only wind that I am seeing--feeling--or it may be breezes of the discontent that will blow like no other wind chill. Change vs. transition. Always the gentleman. Never the close and never the quick.

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1069735310917832482003-11-24T22:21:00.000-06:002003-11-24T22:41:58.833-06:00

It might be time to do this--so, my counter tops are clean. Well semi-clean. It is more the thoughts of my counter tops that can not be clean. Can you imagine the filth--and it is all too familiar--considering what goes on there. Is it realistic? The newly minted counter top can be clean (I suppose) after the workman's hands have finished their work--but it is still the counter top. This

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1069128021256500672003-11-17T21:48:00.000-06:002003-11-17T22:00:27.903-06:00

Leapfrogging through time and space. Giant steps to places that others may only have glimpses of, but need to reach in baby-step increments. Do we hurry our turtle's pace? Is this a turtle and rabbit town? What speed limits are self-imposed and which live in the domain of good taste and master patience alone? It may be a question not answered on primetime but alive in the hearts of lesser

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1068785870927084162003-11-13T22:14:00.000-06:002003-11-13T22:57:56.610-06:00

Sobieski BBQ meatballs. Good country people. . . Feelin like the misfit travelin with Hiram and meeting Bailey Boy and Gramma (worried about a smuggled cat in another story) and makin proclamations of faith and misgiving. Not hard to find. Fairly easy to leave. All that and the miracle of life wrapped in a few heat-and-eat buffet tins. Don't whisper about the indian girl from the reservation

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1068699325892537372003-11-12T22:54:00.000-06:002003-11-12T22:55:31.343-06:00

Are you back already? Continue the battle. For the empire or otherwise. . . Well.

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1068699032401032362003-11-12T22:32:00.000-06:002003-11-12T22:50:37.896-06:00

No problem towing the line. Makes me think back to why I have not made an entry--my apologies to those who look forward to my mistaken indulgence--and the "things" that have engaged me. Will I be slowed to my own personal goals? Will i suffer from the mass grave of democracy and "team?" Let us march then the next 500 miles of hunger and exhaustion and await the wolves who circle with hunger

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1067974593937550562003-11-04T13:19:00.000-06:002003-11-04T13:36:36.730-06:00

I am thinking about the sale of our house. Not "the sale" but a sale generally. I wonder how many times I will move? I wonder how often it will be necessary and how many different reasons I can concot to choose to. ". . .and this one is too small. . .and this one is just right!" Then, throw into this equation the possibility of natural disaster or arson! Now we are talking seemingly endless

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1067436747945402282003-10-29T08:01:00.000-06:002003-10-29T08:12:29.443-06:00

Looking back in the reflecting mirror of Blogger makes me wonder howI have expressed myself as such a dolt. Well, I am it seems. These are not strong enough words: absolutes that I can later back away from as a sign of weak personal integrity. Fooling myself as I reflect and condemn those earlier words. I think I have found the same lonely--ugly--side of this endeavor that Marcus has arrived

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1066784904973799072003-10-21T19:52:00.000-05:002003-10-21T20:08:25.083-05:00

Lambeau Field. The site of a reception I was invited to this eve. Sort of a shake down, but a good group to be a part of. Ed Donatell was the featured speaker. Interesting comment about leadership--lead people to places without prooof-standing up and being a constant source of energy. For a football coach on a losing team he was actually a good speaker. R. Harris was perhaps even more

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1066269257725020332003-10-15T20:21:00.000-05:002003-10-15T20:54:17.993-05:00

Super long days with mixed feelings. Some surprise and some absolute dismay. Much of what the last three days have felt like is a verse of Lewis Carol being played out with actors in an office environment. There is a walrus. There is no carpenter. I am feeling TS Eliot. Does Sturgeon Bay have any sturgeon? Eliot's yellow smoke licking window panes ( or something like that) could have

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1065717574280564112003-10-09T11:21:00.000-05:002003-10-09T11:39:34.093-05:00

Evening of firsts. Went to a show with my daughter. She was pumped because it was her first real show in a venue other than a theater or other "officially sanctioned" locale. She was not disappointed. The Riverside Ballroom in G.B. This was like returning to the scene of a crime. I recalled upon entering that it was the same place that I walked into--somewhat unsteadily--as part of the 7

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1065451629532701972003-10-06T08:56:00.000-05:002003-10-06T09:47:09.260-05:00

Fetching. Not the act of. . .but just finding something fetching. Hmmm. What will an man do when he is surrounded by a mass of people half, to less than half, his age? He will feel old. Old in the sense of being alone. I am the Aged P--Wemmick's Aged P. Maybe I ought to get a cannon. Just for the ritual of age--shooting it each day. Great. Expectations. . . ? Now I am moved, yet I am

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1065103426379782822003-10-02T09:03:00.000-05:002003-10-02T09:03:46.546-05:00

General Wesley Clark. Domestic animals in an outrage (not because of the New Patriotism). Sore fingers from a pool cover. And the cost of a whole city block in Bessemer, Michigan. Can patriotism be new? It might have to be to become appealing within the democratic circles surrounding the campaign. The very idea of being patriotic has been hijacked by wigged-out Bushies to mean unflagging

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1064541380962203072003-09-25T20:39:00.000-05:002003-09-25T21:00:52.423-05:00

I have always dug bull riding. The snot from the nose of the bull--when played in slow motion--arcs from the nostril (the size of my fist) and slaps an unwitting clown or soon to be ejected passenger. Who are all of the guys standing around the gate when the rider climbs on the back of the bull? Someone holds the gate, someone watches if they need to save the life of the poor fool who is about

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1064451106608647892003-09-24T19:51:00.000-05:002003-09-24T19:51:46.100-05:00

Teamsters. Great people. Smiles and handshakes. Truck for the kid--made in China. No, I never saw a UPS driver that was not smiling. Makes you wonder if that works by zipcode or if its all in the customer service training. Is this going to be a record of contrivences. That makes me think of Bukowski. Remember his feelings for the Woman? Whenever she came around the toilet got clogged

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855344.post-1064429754600745442003-09-24T13:55:00.000-05:002003-09-24T19:52:16.863-05:00

So, it has been suggested that this is a good idea. Among many ideas, this could work out to be a good one, but that jury is taking a siesta. When I think of Ketchum, Idaho I will now have a point of reference--Marcus. It occurs to me that I have never before thought of Ketchum, Idaho. Marcus is responsible for this. Now there are two words you don't often see in a sentence together: "

Simple Simonnoreply@blogger.com0