My Sick Mind

I'm old enough to remember backyard leaf-burnings during the autumn. The smell of a leaf fire was a rite of passage for young people in the 1960s. We'd rake the fallen leaves into a big pile and set them ablaze, then do a gleeful little dance. The embers would scatter into the same wind that brought them to the ground. The great cycle of life . At some point in our development as a society, we decided that burning leaves in the backyard was either (or both) an environmental or safety hazard. It's as though our habit was irresponsible, and we are supposed to sit back and marvel at how we never burned the neighborhood down or inhaled enough smoke to go to the emergency room. I suppose we were impervious? Or perhaps now, we tend to think too much. When leaf-burning became taboo, it gave rise to a new technology - the leaf blower. A backpack contraption, fueled by gasoline that makes more noise than a small aircraft engine. Somehow, this is seen as being better than raking a...

The Sun seems to be doing a better job at snow clearing than our local plow people. Granted, they were probably out for about 36 hours straight, but you'd have to think that the hardest part of the job is staying awake. Start the truck, put the plow down and drive pretty much sums it up. Even if they fell asleep behind the wheel, what's the worst that could happen? They accidently plow somebody's driveway. That's a win-win. Meanwhile, what's up with cell phone plans? I have a crappy Pantech Slate phone that is only good for one thing: It doesn't take up a lot of space. Otherwise, it's kind of crappy. So, I wandered into the local Radio Shack to see if I could upgrade to something ... well, better. But since my contract isn't up until August, I'm stuck with this piece of crap until the summer. Why would they discriminate against a 10-plus year customer merely because he made a bad choice? They put those stickers over the display at the store, so y...

It wasn't as bad as it looked. The local news said we got 28.5 inches, but it didn't seem like it. I didn't measure, and frankly I don't care to. They're calling it " Snowmageddon " on the Internet. That's nice. The Spanish-American Army came through and plowed most of the parking lot late last night. Since I slept part of the early evening away, I had plenty of energy around midnight, so I went out and dug my car and two others out of their crusty snow capsule. I had only intended to do mine, but the Spanish Army left some shovels in that shed to the right of my car, so I had something better to dig with. I suppose they got to Lowe's before I did . I wound up doing three because I thought I was digging out the car of the cute girl that lives downstairs, but it turned out to be a different car. Since it was after midnight I assumed they were both asleep, and should be pleasantly surprised to find their cars shoveled around. I didn't go n...

Once I started driving my love affair with snow ended. It's nice to look at and it used to be fun to play in, but when it becomes work, that's where I stop enjoying it. Add to it the fact that it screwed with an entire weekend and it's on my short list of things I could do nicely without. It took over an hour to dig my car out of it's snow tomb this morning, after nearly 2 feet of snow (23.4 inches officially) fell Saturday and Saturday night. The silent killer. The good thing about condo living is that the sidewalks were cleaned early by a team of shovelers and snow blowers. They were out at 4:00am waking the neighbors and cleaning our stairways. The downside is that we don't have a garage, so the plow runs through the parking area and builds a nice wall of snow around us. It's kind of powdery and light, but there's still 2 feet of it, so the weight isn't much consolation. I dug a path wide enough to get my car out and parked it in one of the cleare...

I love those green envelopes that come in the mail from my condo association. They're always full of such good cheer. Wednesday's missive was especially wonderful: PLEASE TAKE THE TIME TO FULLY READ THIS IMPORTANT NOTICE it said, underlined so that we wouldn't miss the 16-point type face. "It has come to the attention of the Country Creek Board of Trustees (BOT) that person are entering the Country Creek pool compound during hours when the pool is not open." Egad. On several occasions recently, sections of the fence surrounding the pool compound have been cut to gain access to the pool area. The nerve. Each time the fence is damaged by vandalism, the repairs cost the association money, which in turn, costs you [underlined] the homeowners/residents, money. [me] Within the next two weeks, cameras will be installed around the pool compound to ensure its integrity. We are fortunate to have a big beautiful pool and pool compound (there's compound again) to e...

There are two kinds of people in the world. (1) People who make their bed each morning and (2) People who do not. I am people 2. Partly because I see it as a futile exercise for someone who lives alone. I'm getting back in later. Partly because I live with an animal who enjoys the warm comfort of the comforter. Even if I did want to make the bed, I don't have the heart to move him. He's 18 and needs his sleep and deserves a nice place to rest. I'd be there with him if I didn't have to go to work. I'm not sure which type my next door neighbor is, but I know that she is (a) hardly ever home and (b) likes to leave junk out on her (our) porch. This large box has been sitting in various locations on the porch since Friday. Friday. Tonight, I took the liberty of moving it directly in front of her door, making it impossible for her to get inside without at least acknowledging the presence of the box. My next step is to place a note on the box stating that THIS BOX H...

I got shussed by my neighbors the other day. I'm making too much noise, apparently, and two out of my seven neighbors decided that I should be more quiet. Me. More quiet. That's like asking Louie Anderson to be fatter. For those of you unaware, I am a condominium dweller. More so out of cost than preference. I'm intensely private, and there are times when the condo life is difficult for me - like when I have to socialize or deal with neighbors. I like suburban life, but I'd prefer it in a cave or some five-story building where the other 4 floors were used for storage. It wasn't so much me as it was the music I was listening to. FYI, I listen to music through my fancy Bose computer speakers while I'm doing this. The walls of my condo are so paper-thin that the gigantic 2-inch speaker and it's little bass compartment rattled the walls at or near 1:00am on Saturday, keeping my downstairs and next door neighbors awake wondering what all the rumbling was. Thos...

This is another of those times when I realize I've spewed out just about every thought that has come across my [sick] mind. I realized it when I was thinking up an essay on the NFL draft, and suddenly (beer inspired) realized that I had already done one . Click on the link and change the date. Like all of this junk, it's inspired thought. Wesley Snipes just got three years in prison for tax evasion. That sounds like a phyrric victory for the Federal government. If he's in prison, he won't be paying taxes, so they're out for 36 months. The judge said that he was "making an example" out of Snipes by giving him a harsh sentence. Isn't justice supposed to be blind? This is a nation of laws, not a nation of men and no one, no matter how rich or famous, should be made an example of. We were all created equally, according to that Declaration paper. I think the judge should be removed of his duties. Let's make an example of him. There has been a big drop...