A few years ago, this area started summer with a lot of rain. Warm weather, but the better part of 10 day period, downpours were the order of the day. I, secretly being five, paid it no heed. I was at Target picking up a few things, and from the register, I could see that night's downpour cranking up. My rounds for done for the night, so no big deal. The umbrella's in the car, but I didn't care. I was done, what's a little water, it comes right out. I took my purchases and stopped to locate my car and just watch the water for a moment. Slightly to my left, I could hear a guy wound up, upset, calling the rain names, his car was on the other side of the lot, gonna effin drown, etc. None of this was the rain's fault, but I did have a little bit of sympathy for the person on the other end of the phone. To complaining boy's left was a woman watching the rain and trying to hid her amusement at the complainer.

Before I said something stupid, I did the wise thing: secured my purchases and leapt off the sidewalk into the biggest puddle I could get to and strode off to my car. He cursed, she laughed and I think did the exact same thing as he continued to weave a tapestry of obscenties that loitered in the moist air over the store entrance.

It's only water, dude, lighten up.



This came back to me the other night as we got some localized rain and one of the downpours hung over my apartment. I walked out onto my porch and just listened, let it rain, didn't watch anything in particular, just let nature do its thing. Know my mental remote control has never settled on any one channel for very long, but it was the closest I've ever come to a mediative state. I had yoga teachers maintain that such states were possible, but I think they were just overselling exhaustion. It was just a calm, warm rain, just loud enough to drown everything out. Despite being three stories over one of my city's busier streets, things disappeared. A raft of thoughts and worries stopped.

My job has me in some unusual predicaments of late, all in the name of helping out the bears and for the unitiated, I'm the one on the right

This greeted the former missus and I as we drove our younger daughter back to SUNY Purchase on Sunday. She's there for year two and really liking it. A Sophomore, damn I must be old or something.



It's funny to watch when you aren't driving how people behave. The sight of a trooper makes multiple cars tap their breaks in unison which breaks me up. I mean, if the trooper was truly gunning for you, you'd be pulled over.

Anyway, we seem to have it down to a good science. We drove down on Sunday afternoon. There's an affordable hotel outside of White Plains (notice I didn't say good) that we've come to favor as it doesn't cost the proverbial arm and a leg. We got up on Monday, raided a Dunkin Donuts for coffee and egg sammys and headed over to school. Not that you get pragmatic with experience, but ninety minutes after checking in, unloading a minivan, and strangely, but perhaps, most importantly, setting up the room's wifi for my daughter and her roomies, the ex and I were dismissed.

Guess that makes it a bid of a business trip. As her older sister resumed at Buff State last week, it's up to number one son to gird his loins and head off to Tapestry for his second year of high school.

Surrounded by all these adults all the sudden.

Canal, that is.

A recent round of dental treatment culminated in Monday’s first root canal for me. That is just how I pronounced it the rest of the day.

I am, without hesistation, coming out as a big baby when it comes to dental procedures beyond cleanings. We, the small mouthed, have a bit of a reaction when it comes to multiple power tools hanging from our mouths. Only so much room in there, and when too many things pop in without explanation, your system panics a bit. It was hard enough to not hear Bill Cosby talk about how “they place all this stuff in your mouth…and then they want to talk to you.”

Smboke!

After receiving a dental dam, bite guard and assorted other appliances, I nearly gagged and the dentist wanted to why I think that happened? I believe I said something profound like “DFASDph!” which might be latin for only so much room in there. In a room filled with a myriad of equipment, it was if they knew I was trouble and was best tended to out of sight of the regular clientele.

So, the longest 85 minutes of my l life went, with me trying to balance a piece of pool liner (the damn) in my mouth, while holding the right pose to ensure a successful completion of this fresh hell as well as guard against any sudden lobotomies. You can tell the dentist had a tough day, when all this was placed without so much an explanation, as more of a reprimand. The folks working on me were great, but I can tell I was the cherry on the cake of a long day for the lady doing all the real work. But showing me what was going in my mouth was a little easier on my delicate psyche than just ramming stuff in there.

I don’t know if it was the noise that the drills make, combined with the battle of making sure you stay in your breath through your nose, but it was exhausting. In my travels, I’ve been in front of a few fights, been thrown from a couple of bikes, and even forced into a wall, but walking out of the office and getting into the car, I spilled into the driver’s seat and thought fondly of the aspirin I had at home.

But the bourbon was good (i was out of tylenol)

As I've been a little journal/blog blocked of late, enjoy a groovy animal pic.