May March

There is something both funny and disturbing about this picture.

The kids are laughing, having fun, and Jan Brewer with a Hitler mustache is almost as entertaining as Sheriff Joe, referred to as one of Hitler's Daughters. However...

Swastikas?

Reminds me of the Health Care debacle when certain a-holes likened Obama to Hitler.

Maybe we should all just agree not to go that particular place and save our Hitler/Holocaust references for more appropriate things like, say, Racial Genocide?

And while we're at it, maybe we can stop demonizing anyone with an opposing political viewpoint in this country.*

For the record, I'm in support of the March.

Just not swastikas.

*Why is it the Brits can create a Coalition Faction out of two opposing parties, but america can't find it's ass with either the left or the right hand?

Buenas Dias!

Went to Rocky Point late April to celebrate my 43rd year of existence and play some volleyball. M was in Ethiopia so I went by my lonesome.

Highlights:

1. Passport arrived via certified mail 15 minutes before my departure.

2. Played a monster game against the number one seed, narrowly losing 21-19. Blocked their best hitter 5 or 6 times, including one "dome" that split his sunglasses in half.*

3. Stayed in each and every night, reading or watching tv. Sounds lame but was more pleasant than I can relate**.

*Sucked ass the very next game and was knocked out of the tourney by a highly mediocre team.
**Note the revelers pictured above, the morning after! : )

Monument

Dee-Wayne Brammage, my oldest friend, took a painting class a few years back.*

D, who'd worked construction and fire crew most of his life, had always tried to avoid the macho tag, so when his instructor - a knee-jerk liberal feminist - assumed the worst of him, he just went with it.

The resulting painting was secretly entitled, "Monument Valley - My C*ck!" and it featured a large, phallic rock structure with two circular bushes at it's base.

Missing the less than subtle overtones, the instructor noted aloud that the piece was "somewhat contrived and unnaturally stiff".

Which cracked the class up.

This picture reminds me of that.

* One of his paintings currently hangs about two feet to my left. It's a rusty pink trailer wrapped in the blue skies and sienna hills of the high desert, and it is one of my favorites.

Anecdote

"There is no dress rehearsal for death," I asserted one evening at Carly's, attempting to wax philosophic.

"Well..." countered bartender Brian, "my Grandpa had it written in his will how he would look when buried, right down to the suit and tie. Even how his hair should be parted."

Not exactly what I had meant, but a good point none-the-less.

Phoning it it in...

Haven't had much desire to blog lately.

Work is a tsunami of meaningless tasks and I am on autopilot.

Which works out.

Better to just soldier up, get things done, and not waste energy on the why's and why for's.

Otherwise, I might find I'm killing myself to keep a job I don't particularly like, so I can pay for things I don't especially want.

So, yeah, autopilot works just fine.