Did you know that the average monthly rent for a Manhattan apartment is over $5,000. I pay $450 for my little man cave on a dead end street in a hick town in southern Tennessee, and I got a creek and a park to go with it.

I can crank my sound system as loud as I want, I leave the door wide open and suck air through it with my ceiling fans, and out the back windows toward the creek. No air conditioning and I have chipmunks walk casually into my house for peanuts.

I see everyone who comes into my neighborhood, down my quiet street, and my shotgun is loaded and a few steps away. But I've been here four years now, and have not had any bad actors roll through here.

The other night I left my truck wide open with my wallet in it crammed with cash and my cards. I woke up at 0200 realizing what I had done, and walked out naked and fixed it.

My grocery store, my liquor store, my gym, my job, many restaurants, and Walmart, are within three miles away.

So, New York can charge 5k for the privilege of living in that crime and drug infested crap hole of a big city, and shove it up their ass!

My boss Ricky and I took care of those rocks today, that were busting tubes under the bridge. Daniel loaned me a badass pry bar that worked well. I asked Ricky if he had one on his truck, and he said, yea, bigger than that. He is a contractor after all.

We used the one I brought, mainly to break up rocks with pointed edges, and manually moved the bigger ones to the side of the creek. Should make for smooth tubing down a fast moving stretch.

Ricky showed up at 1030 and his timing was perfect as I was trying to figure out what to do before my in-home medical checkup at noon.

The medical visit went great, a distinguished older doctor showed up and he updated the things my provider needed to know, checked my b/p, heart, reflexes and general stuff. Right from the comfort of my big chair. I passed!

He was probably more then fifteen years younger than me, but I bet he wouldn't be rolling big rocks around the creek in his spare time.

I watched my neighbor knock off a can of Vienna Sausage the other day, and then I saw some good ol boy waiting to ride our tubes, also eating a can of these things. They are a convenient source of protein I suppose, with the little tear off lids and all, but I don't eat them.

So I asked Daniel if this was a southern thing, and he said yep, along with potted meat, pickled pigs feet, spam, chitlins (hog intestines, deep fried), pork brains and eggs, rooster fries (hog balls), and pork skins.


And I don't think my happy son in the Pacific Northwest is feeding Ariella any of those things.

We have a new put-in spot for the tubers. Actually, it was our original spot when I drove for CST a couple of years ago. I love it, it's my favorite, it goes right down our dead end street, past my little house, with a full driveway to exit without any backing.

Much better then the spot down the road where the neighbors were complaining and we were blocking one lane of a two lane street. I'm one of the neighbors here, and I know the others, so no complaints.

My manager Liz told me that tubes were being flattened at a spot down under the first bridge (now the second bridge since expanding the run), so I drove over today to check it out. I think I found the culprit, a narrow little passage that draws tubes in, and then accelerates them right into some gnarly rocks.

I shot a little video of the spot, and then later on Rocco and I drove a big two bus group of beautiful young people, down to the new spot to try their luck.

They posed for a group shot down at the drop, and I really wanted to stand next to the lady that was taking it, and shoot my own, but I thought they might have freaked out, so I didn't. OK, no balls...

Also, my little 8 year old helper Maddie found a pinpoint hole in a tube that was driving me crazy, bought her a peanut butter cup!

Anyway, check out the video if you like:

I was talking to my co-worker Rocco today about The Tubes. You know, that eclectic San Francisco band that formed in the early seventies. My friend Skoge was actively involved with them, and I just hung out.

Perhaps you've never heard of them, or their music, so I'm going to share a couple videos here. Btw, I was amazed to discover that they are still touring!

Also, Micheal Cotton, the keyboard player, was an artist, and designed a logo for one of my companies computer products.

248 people rode our tubes down Shoal Creek today. It was a beautiful hot Saturday and the folks just kept showing up all day. We almost ran out of tubes and the staff were throwing flat ones they found inside the storage unit at me, as well as ones that got flattened on the creek from rocks and who knows what shit.

I was a tube patching machine today and now I'm home and walking around the house like a fucking old man. Oh, wait...

I'll be 76 next Saturday, and I'm still working out here at home before I go to work. Eating very healthy, no sugar, meat on a rare occasion. I inject meth into my arm before bed to help me sleep (ok, I drink hot lemon juice). I'm trying to beat the odds and stay alive!

I am the PatchMan.

...and thank god patchman.com is taken, I don't feel like programming a website.

We went down a driver yesterday at Crockett Shoals Tubing, Marvin had to leave to help his dad with Parkinson and Dementia. Turns out, they put me on their insurance and I'm now a back-up driver along with the prestigious title of tube patcher.

I actually did a run today, had a great time, glad to be back.

Then, I rode to Hollywood, via Waco to connect Daniel with his freshly serviced Harley. I tried to keep up with him on the ride home, but he smashed some gears, and left me in the dust.

I bought my Zulay lemon press last September, and I love it. It's got two compartments, one for lemons and one for limes, but will actually work on any small fruit. Just cut things in half, insert face down and squeeze.

It's sturdy, you can put some muscle into extracting every last drop, then just flip it open and the flattened fruit drops out. Quick and efficient.

It's a little awkward to clean, but you learn how quickly. As someone who has used it daily, I highly recommend this device, if you decide to get into hot lemon juice drinks. Or if you just need this kind of tool in your kitchen!

Yea, I should get a commission from Zulay for this, but click an image below to go there on Amazon.

I stopped drinking coffee quite a while ago. Oh I would have a cup on the road when I traveled, but I don't drink it around my house. I have replaced it with one freshly squeezed lemon, hot water, and a dash of sea salt.

I have one cup every morning, gets me going. I have recently discovered that it's a sleep aid, which is counter-intuitive to a morning drink.

For example, I woke up at 0230 this morning, couldn't get back to sleep, and said screw it and got up. Made myself a hot lemon, read my mail, watched a little TV, then went back to bed about 0415.

I fell asleep quickly and had an incredible deep rem sleep, with amazingly vivid dreams. Woke up at 0600 and felt totally refreshed!

Tonight I'm sitting here writing this post, drinking a hot lemon. It's 1915 and I'm ready to hit the sack, should be interesting. I should also note that I did three laps, worked out, and hit the gym hard today. Goodnight.

I was listenen to a song today, and the lyric, hold on tight to your dreams, jumped out to me. I'll be 76 shortly, and I ain't got no dreams left.

I live day to day, with a few plans down the road. Today I walked the path, worked out, ate catfish, bought some stuff to put in the side holders of my bird feeder, and hit the gym.

None of those things stack up as dreams, and there certainly ain't nothin to hold on to. So, just glad to still be alive!

Meanwhile, my planter is lovin the daily water, and is giving me presents in return.