I fired up my dev box this morning, grabbed a template and uploaded it to my server. Then I brought my laptop up, downloaded the template and began to write code. So, sitting here in my chair, at my laptop, I have created a brand new site.

I've still got some tweaking to do, but to create a brand new website before two in the afternoon, not bad. It was fun diving into code again!

So here you go, a site devoted to feeding my ducks, named Kwackd.

I had this whacky idea today for a new app, even though I haven't fired up my development box for months now. I envisioned the domain name foda.com, which stands for Fear Of Dying Alone.

I just checked and I should have known it wasn't available. I think all four letter .com domain names, no matter the weird character combinations, have long been snapped up. Five and six letter combos are probably close.

Anyway, the premiss of the app was to give people in my position, but without a Facebook page or a blog, a voice. A place to tell their story to the world.

I got the idea from our local radio station, The X. They asked the question: What are people most focused on, when they turn thirty. A fear of dying alone was right up there.

At my age, I don't fear it, I accept it, and plan for it. When I leave my house in the morning I make sure my bed is made and my dishes are washed. My Will is sitting on the little counter by my fridge. You never know!

btw: mykwak.com is available, so is kwaqy.com, if I felt like creating...

Oh what the hell, I just bought kwackd.com for $10!

I encountered the wild turkey flock in the park this morning. They were pretty chill, tossed them some quack, then continued on to the ducks.

The weather in Florida looks good for next week, seventies and eighties. I would really like to get my act together, pay my rent, buy some bird feed and leave it on my porch for Hudson, and road trip down South,

I called the ducks in from across the lake again, with my quack quack quack call. Not sure if Hudson could pull that off. He also has school next week and that's quite a burden to impose on him.

I really wish I could take those bags of wild bird seed and cracked corn up to the dock, and have the Rangers invite the folks visiting in the cabins, to have a go at feeding them.

I think I will post this and send it off to Rachel, maybe she could forward the idea to the park staff.

Here's a good feeding video: Duck Buds

The rules of the game: I've been showing up between 0815 and 0830 for months now. Often they are waiting at the dock for me, but sometimes their sense of feeding time is a little off, and they are hanging out way over by the dam. I can get their attention and have them swim across the lake to me, and that takes about ten minutes. The geese also gather around and appreciate the feed tossed towards them. That's it!

My quack mixture is good for them, it suppliments their diet daily, and they love it!

Dick Tracy was a comic strip crime fighter in the 1930's. In 1946, the year I was born, he started using a futuristic two-way wrist radio called the Dick Tracy watch. I grew up with this stuff, always wondering if it would ever become reality.

It has, and then some. My Samsung phone is joined at the hip with my Samsung watch via bluetooth. I can place and receive phone calls around the world, with this device on my wrist. I can update and set watch settings from my phone. Not to mention all of the apps and body tracking goodies it contains.

But sometimes my watch surprises me, like this morning. When I flicked my wrist to wake it up and check the time, there was Jess and Ariella starting back at me. Now I'm a pretty tech savvy guy, but I have no idea how a notification like that ends up on my watch, I didn't set it up to do that!

Not that I mind, I enjoy their photo site and drop by every time I get an email showing new content, but this is just downright strange.

Update: I figured it out. Somehow Family Album notifications got turned on from my phone. I'll leave it on :-)

I sold my hunting rifle to my gun collecting neighbor last week, and had a great gun shop South of town strip down and service my only remaining gun, a Mosburg short shotgun. They did a great job, the weapon is clean, shiney, and fireable.

Daniel and I have had this ongoing discussion about leaving a shell in the chamber. I carry this gun on my road trips and I always considered racking the gun as a deferent to anyone wanting to hurt me in the back of my truck.

The problem is, there is an additional safety switch on the side that needs to be pressed upward to allow the rack. If you fumble that move, you could end up dead.

So, I have conceded the point to my gun expert neighbor. She is now fully loaded, racked with a shell in the chamber, and the regular safety is on. To fire, push the safety off with your left hand and pull the trigger with your right hand.

No rack, no fumbling with the damn rack safety, just push a button and shoot. I get it.

Wow, thinking about all of the highs from my programming adventures during the seventies and eighties. When I landed in Kent Washington in the early nineties, I continued on for a while, writing assembly code for the Black Box with Sundstrand, scanner drivers for ZSoft's PC Paintbrush, and then I crashed.

It all just came crumbling down, lost my apartment because I couldn't pay the rent. I ended up living in a tent that Dave loaned me, in the middle of a field. Flat broke, homeless.

People helped me out and it took me years to crawl back up, fueled by the love for my boy Riley, I needed to be there for him. I got a job as a dishwasher at a local hotel. Then I got a small apartment that was near Riley's Elementary, Junior and High schools. I was there for everything.

I eventually landed a job as a paratransit driver, became a supervisor for two companies, and left Washington State with Steph, holding my head high.

I know this fuels my obsession to help others who are down and out. Sometimes it only takes a little boost, a shower, a meal, a few bucks in your pocket. I will continue to do this, until I can't.

Watching Hunters on Prime today. The Jewish accents and mannerisms are bringing back memories of our two Jewish partners back in the early PC days.

They were the money guys as I created Four Point Graphics. I can't remember their names, but they were two badass dudes. Our company was called IMSI and it was based in San Rafael, just across the bay, over the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco.

Both of these guys were Israeli tank commanders, military guys. Tough and ruthless, you wouldn't want to mess with them physically. They came to me one day and asked me to create an anti-virus program. This was before any such thing hit the market, before Norton.

I turned them down, just wasn't interested and I still despise anti-virus programs. They suck the life out of systems without merit.

We were at Peter Norton's shop down in Los Angeles one day for something, I missed meeting him because he was out to lunch that day.

Anyway, one of the Jewish guys bought me a ticket from Oakland to Seattle, actually rode with me for a meeting with Microsoft. I ended up hooking up with Riley's mom there, to be with my boy, and never saw any of my business partners again. Gig over.

But, the bottom line is, I created one of the very first graphics programs for the brand new IBM PC, in 1982!

Had a crazy ass day today, trying to hook up with my blood doctor. My GPS got me close to the spot in Columbia, TN, but I was sitting in the middle of a small strip mall, when she said I had arrived.

I walked into a TMobile phone store and asked if there were any Maury Regional doctors offices around and he said they were all over the place, but the big office was a mile away, biggest building in town. Yea, I passed that, so I went back and it turned out to be the Hospital. Nope, no doctor Messenger there, so I checked the building next door, nope.

So I called my doctors office and they sent me back to where I came from, and finally found their building, around the corner from TMobile. OMFG. I entered the office right on time and spent the next hour dumping out my soul as a new patient.

I waited a long time in the room, finally a frail old man appeared. He dug deeper into my world, taking notes along the way. Finally he took me back to the lab for more blood draws. Then he examined my pelvic/stomach area for some reason.

I now have an appointment in two weeks for an ultrasound. I have no fucking idea what's going on, but I'm in it for the ride...


I just renewed one of my favorite web apps for another year. It's called Tiwats and it stands for Things I Want At The Store. It works great on your phone or laptop and you can use it to create a shopping list at multiple stores.

The first thing to do is click the Add button at the top to add a store. In this case I'm typing in Walmart and then clicking the Add button within the box.

Walmart is added to the list.

Then I repeat the process for Kroger, note how the Stores are automatically sorted.

Next I click on Kroger and add an Item.

Here I've added more Items to both stores, note the Items are sorted.

Once you're at the store and you place an Item in your cart, simply click the X button next to the Item to remove it.

Now here's the cool thing, clicking on any Item name will open a web page that searches for that Item, in that Store!

The About button summarizes these instructions while the Reset button clears everything, which you really don't need to do if you shop at these Stores regularly. All of your data is stored on your device, and pops back up the next time you open the App.

I hope you use Tiwats, and enjoy it.

I have classified documents in my house. On one of my road trips a few years back, I stopped in Vegas and hit up my favorite bar at the Flamingo. Hunter Biden was there drunk, surrounded by hookers and hanger-ons, passing out documents with big red letters at the top that screamed Classified! Said he found them in his dad's garage.

I can't say specifically what was in the two that I got, because, you know, they're classified. But I can hint that one discussed aliens, and the other shed light on the Kennedy assignation.

OK, just kidding, don't want the Feds showing up at my door! But it's a totally feasible scenario.

Daniel was over last night, and we were talking favorite female singers. The first one out of his mouth was Megan Trainer, OK. We then started using Alexa, his Goggle shit on his phone, my ChatGPT site, and our memories, to conjure up our favorite female singer.

Armed with a giant TV with a kickass soundbar, and a YouTube search engine, we explored our favorites. If we could not remember an artist, we used Alexa or ChatGPT to remind us.

We played Megan, sweet and sings good. Then we moved to Stevie Nicks. I told him the time my sister bought me, Steph and Riley front row seats to Fleetwood Mac in Oakland, CA. She's amazing.

He considers Miley Cyrus a whore, I don't. I love her music and her style. So here we are at a standstill.

My final vote goes to Jennifer Nettles of SugarLand. Her song Something More was Stephs and my theme song leaving Kent Washington, down to a new life in Idaho.

This is my blog, so I win...


My road trip to Dayton, TN is off. Charlie called today to say that the leaf springs they pulled were damaged. The next nearest place is up in Ohio and I have no desire to travel that far in the winter, so I guess my tail will just keep on dragging.

I tried to help Steph out this morning with her engine fan issue, hooked her up with the guy that did my rear-end, but I guess we weren't on the same page.

Hmmm, now what? Hudson's prepared to feed my ducks, I have no pets, maybe a trip to Cancun? I just asked Alexa what the weather was and she said 83 with clear skies. Damn that sounds nice, find myself an all inclusive hotel on the beach for a week, get a $20 massage every day, and soak in the hot tub at night. Anybody want to join me?

Or drive up to Metropolis and buy some stupid maker? Daniel says I'm an asshole when I'm stoned, but I strongly disagree, he just doesn't get me in that state. He's just an old southern boy, never been stoned in his life.

Or do nothing...


I just came to grips with something, now that I've shut down notifications, that this blog is really my personal journal, it just happens to be online for anyone to see. If you want to drop by, please do, otherwise avoid me.

The best position in life is to not give a shit what people think of you, just be honest, be real, help people when you can, and express yourself.

I have this new morning routine where I get up at 0400, drink my hot lemon water, catch up on the news, eat some cereal, watch TikTok and then go back to bed around 0530. As a result I've been having some amazingly realistic dreams as I sleep for an hour. The dream this morning was something!

I was living in a large house alone, when suddenly it was invaded by a bunch of people having a big all day office party. My possessions were striped away, party stuff was being brought in, I kept finding bud lying around that I scooped up and stashed.

I wanted to take a shower but the curtain was gone and there were people everywhere in my large bathroom. I just couldn't expose my nakedness to the group.

Later a beautiful freckle faced redhead approached me with a baby on her hip. She pulled her blouse open and presented a big nipple to me, dripping with breast milk, inches from my face, and said remember this?. As I moved my mouth toward it she suddenly said no! and I stopped. Story of my life...

This afternoon I was asleep behind the wheel up in the park, soaking up the sun through my windshield, when my phone rang. It was the used parts outfit in Dayton, TN and he told me that the leaf springs were a no go, damaged.

Road trip off, searching for other options now...


There I go again, writing posts that I really shouldn't be, and sharing them with people I really should not. I wake up the next morning wondering what I wrote, who I texted the link to, and just shake my head.

I have obviously alienated a bunch of folks. Some of my texts are not going through, which would imply that my number has been blocked.

I've been using Goggles web based messaging system on my laptop, connected to my phone via blue tooth, so it's way too easy to copy a link and paste it to everyone on my list.

I have shut that down now, and the list of people in my text history is empty. So the only way I can text now is on my phone, which means I won't be texting links to anyone because it's a pain.

Bottom line, hopefully I never send a single post link to anyone again. I will keep blogging, but if anyone wants to see what I write, they need to drop by the website.

Sometimes you need to take drastic actions, to solve a problem...


Unlike some bloggers who have writers block, I can't stop writing. The words flow from my unstoned brain onto my screen. Damn, I wish I was stoned right now.

I am so envious of people that live in a pot friendly state. Get in your car, drive a few miles, buy legal product, take it home and smoke it. I have to drive to fucking Illinois!

Pot unleashes my creativity. I made some incredible breakthroughs in code technology stoned. In the early eighties I went with my business partners up into a sweet cabin in Lake Tahoe. They set me up with a multi-screen original IBM PC system, and I developed our next product. Stoned.

With so many states legalizing pot, the badness is now off. I don't consider myself a drug addict because I like to smoke. Trust me, I have bigger issues.

The last time I drove up to Metropolis, IL, I smoked a joint in my truck because I didn't want to smoke in my motel room. The smell lingered in there for a month, and if I had been pulled over here in town, I would have been hassled. How sad.

The truth is, weed is grown all over Tennessee. I have encountered a few people here that have sold me some local grown bud at a good price. Unfortunately, I have lost touch with them.

Yea, you may question me even talking about this, but wtf, are the local cops going to beat down my door and search for drugs because I wrote this? Trust me, they won't find any.

No, simple possession inside a private residence is a low priority for them. Yea, if they pull someone over and the vehicle has a pot smell, they have to dive in, because that's their job, and the law is what it is.

State legalization is a money crop in taxes. Almost half of what I pay for weed in a legal State, goes to the State. Excuse me? Who are the drug dealers here?

I truly believe, that all laws across this country involving pot, should be eliminated completely. Drop the fucking taxes. Put pot next to the lettuce in the grocery store.

And then move onto magic mushrooms...


I was talking to a local mechanic about my leaf springs when a parts runner came in. I asked how he liked the job, thought about it myself, he loved it!

Then I came home and watched a documentary about the porn industry. There's big money to be made there. So now I'm torn between parts runner, porn star, or stupid old retired blogger. Have to think about that for a bit...

I kept messing up Hudson's name yesterday, was calling him Hayden. I just realized that the East Tennessee town I'm heading to shortly for parts, is called Dayton. God it's tough getting old with your brain going south.

I've got a blood doctor appointment on Wednesday, and hoping the weather cooperates for a Friday morning road trip after the ducks. Hunter goes to high school so on weekdays would have to get up there early, but the weekend should be easier.

The ducks absolutely know my truck, fascinating. I pulled into the dock this morning and they come running before I could park. Hopefully they will accept my young friend Hanson. Shake the bag son, they know that sound!

Update: Yea, I crack myself up sometimes, just like the corn in the quack :-)

Our world has a real love hate relationship with our fellow animals. We love our dogs and cats, but we raise cows, chickens, pigs and other animals by the millions, just to eat them.

I love eggs, but I don't eat chicken. Somewhere along the way I abhorred the commercialization, but still eat beef, pork and fish, and sometimes feel guilty doing so.

What if someday we were invaded by an alien force that crushed our militaries, then rounded up all the humans and put us in cages for breeding and consumption. Tear down all of our cities and build their own structures.

The animals that we eat would be set free or used as pets, and ground human would become one of their culinary staples. Leg of human would be a delicacy, female breasts would be used for sandwiches, genitalia as appetizers. Our skin would me made into clothing.

Hey, we have a great planet, with billions of people. A roaming band of aliens would find this place a perfect spot to set up camp.

Just sayin...


I'm sitting here this evening thinking about Hudson stepping up to take over duck feeding duties while I'm on the road. I really don't know this young man well, we worked together over the summer, but I suddenly have a great respect for him.

What a fine gesture to do this! He chose to do it from simply reading my blog, and caring enough to reach out. I am so humbled.

Obviously he was raised well, working the summer for the tubing crew, other then that I know nothing about his life.

But damn folks, this is what upbringing is like! If you have the privelege of raising a boy like this, be proud!

I just got a text from one of my young co-workers at Crockett Shoals Tubing Company last summer. His name is Hudson, a great kid, junior at Lawrence County HS, and he has been following my blog.

Wow, I didn't realize my eclectic ramblings reached into the young lives of the County I live in. He said he has been enjoying my computer science history posts from over the decades.

And today he stepped up and said he would be willing to feed my ducks while I was gone on this upcoming road trip, before he goes to school, so the ducks don't miss a day. I am touched!

He just dropped by and I showed him my feeding techniques via my YouTube channel on my giant TV. I showed him how to call them from across the lake with a series of quack sounds. How to feed them from my hand.

Then I set him up with bags of wild bird seed, cracked corn, and an extra bag to mix them in. I told him I would text him when I hit the road, he smiled broadly, and we shook hands.

What a solid young man!

As I was reading my recent early morning post, it became evident what the problem is. Although I knew it, sometimes I need to accept it, and articulate it.

When I self medicate with alcohol, my Parkinsons symptoms decline, I become numb to them, and I pass out on my bed in the evening. I don't experience the kind of shit I went through last night sober. I just sleep like a rock and then drag my ass out of bed to start the daily routine up again.

The meds my neurologist prescribed, ain't working. My physical condition has declined to the point that I can't work out.

But hey, it could be worse! Next Wednesday I see the hematologist about my blood workup. Who knows how that shit is going to go down :-)

I'm not sitting here bitching about my life, just observing. I am really grateful to have survived this long, and not be homeless on the street. I am my families patriarch, the old remaining guy at the top of the lineage, and proud to be so.

I have accomplished a great deal in my 76 years, and fucked up a lot, but thats called Life!

Anyway, my current condition really kinda makes sense to me now. I accept it, as do I accept the relationships that are crumbling around me, because of it. But please don't think too badly of me, I really am a nice, honest old man, and I will take that with me, to my grave...


It's a little after midnight and I'm sitting here at my laptop. I've been laying in bed for hours trying to sleep but the vibrations in my body, especially my legs, won't let me.

Around 10, my phone rang once, which startled me because the ringer is off. I ignored it, then at midnight there was a knock on my door. I jumped out of bed, threw on my robe, and approached the door cautiously. There was nobody there.

These were not dreams, they were quite real. As I sat down to drink some water it reminded me of the time I clearly heard Piper meow, shortly after she died. Someone on the other side wanted me to get up.

Then something caught my eye, and I realized that the starter flame on my gas heater was on. I don't know if that could have caused an issue, but it was certainly just sitting there wasting gas.

The space between half asleep and half awake, is a magical place, where the other side can attempt to reach us, and sometimes succeed. Maybe I'm not as alone as I think...


Pretty down and out today. I made it up to Walmart this morning where a couple of nice ladies in the eyeglass section hooked me up with some clip-on shades that fit my new glasses perfectly.

Then I went home, hunkered down, and watched TV all day. It's 730 in the evening, I'm sober, but thinking about correcting that situation.

Daniel was over for a while with his FireBall, talking about how his wife cuts his hair, trims his nails, and rubs his back. Yea, been there my friend, happy for you. Then, as he started talking about her making breakfast for him all the time, I had to shut him down.

I am concerned that I have lost the connection with my sister and her family back in Idaho and Wyoming, and this includes my nephew Brian. I think perhaps their sobriety has clashed with my lack of.

Wow, what a way to end up, and I take full responsibility for everything.

My shotgun is getting cleaned and leaf springs are being pulled, so as soon as the gun is ready I will load it up, stash it in the back of my truck for protection, and hit the road to that small eastern Tennessee junk yard.

I have not missed a day feeding my ducks since I started months ago, but it looks like that's going to happen.

Still haven't made that cocktail, guess I'll just go to bed. Goodnight...


Steph and I lived in Driggs Idaho for well over a decade. It's centered in Teton Valley, with Victor on one side and Tetonia on the other. The valley runs parallel to the Grand Teton mountain range for 17 miles along Hwy 33. There are about 6500 people living there, and I was the bus driver.

There was not a single fast food joint to be found, and we had to drive 45 miles down to Rexburg to shop at Walmart. The largest city around was Idaho Falls, an hour and a half away.

Now, Walmart is only three miles from my house, along Hwy 43, and we have: Wendy's, Dairy Queen, Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, Burger King, McDonald's, Hardee's, Long John Silver, Dunkin Donuts, Arby's, Little Caesars, Krystal, KFC, Jack's, Sonic and Zaxby's. In that order.

This strip also has everything else you could want. The only time I really need to go out of town is for my neurologist up in Columbia, or the airport in Nashville. I've met a lot of folks who were born, raised, and lived their entire life here in Lawrenceburg, TN. It is an interesting medium sized town in the deep South, and everyone talks with a twng.

And they really like to eat...


I first met Melissa when she was a young lady, daughter of the woman I was having an affair with. She was in a relationship with a guy named Chris, and became pregnant. I don't remember the details about this guy, but he was not good news.

I do remember the day that Melissa called her mom to say she was pregnant. Steph and I were at the pool at our Kent Terrace apartment. He was born as Dillan Hernandez, and I grew to love him, and enjoyed every moment we shared together.

Then, Steph and I moved to Idaho. Melissa made it to our house once with some friends, and we had a good time.

Melissa then hooked up online with a guy named Michael, in Summertown, TN. He was an Army vet. She moved there, got married, and had three kids.

When I showed up in Tennessee with a truck full of her mom's and my stuff, she was the best. We found a storage place for Stephs things, and we even found a place for me to live, here on Lee Street.

I felt we were friends, her boy Dillan would hang out at my place and play Fortnight, her girls were my little buddies, and we spent quality time together.

And then, over a mis-understanding I can't explain, it fell apart. So, for the last two years, I have not seen any of them.

Steph and I fell apart over this, but lately our connection is growing stronger. I don't know what comes next, hopefully, maybe something good...


Todays news here in Tennessee had a guy under suspicion for killing his wife, found dead, along with his 9 and 11 year old sons, that he shot before killing himself. What the Hell!

The next story was about a newborn baby that had been dropped into a dumpster. The baby was found, and is still alive, but What the Hell!

What a sad messed up society we live in! I guess all we can do is live our lives with as much integrity that we can muster.

As I was feeding the ducks, head ranger Rachel and one of her deputies were standing up on the road talking, so when I was done I walked over to them and told them that I was feeding the ducks wild bird seed mixed with cracked corn. I think they knew that, my boss at the tubing company was also a ranger and I told her. We were all in agreement that my mix was good for them, and they were appreciative of my daily routine.

I was chatting with Daniel today, and asked him if he had ever taken a human life, having been a cop for a while, and he said no. Some folks have lasting injuries from his actions, but not dead.

I certainly have not, nor have I seriously harmed anyone. I've been in a couple fights, always ended up on top.

Then I sold him my old Remington rifle with a great scope for a couple hundred bucks. We were comparing shotguns last night and my gun collecting buddy said my Mosburg sawed off baby needed a cleaning. So, he's dropping it off at a gun store south of town on his way to Alabama. $65, ready in a week, and the rest of the two hundred will go to those leaf springs.

I don't need that rifle, I don't hunt, I don't take the life of any animal, even insects if I can avoid it...

We then talked about suicide. He lost a dear friend to it years back, and it ain't in my bag. But, if I reached a point where my body couldn't move, and I was down to my last $50, maybe. Then we discussed methods.

I certainly wouldn't splatter my brains around the house. I would take that $50 and buy some high potency fentanyl, sit in my chair, sip on a cocktail, and say goodbye...


I casually asked Steph over breakfast this morning, if her granddaughters Lilly 7, and Lyla 5, knew where their mystery $50 each at Christmas, came from.

I was surprised to hear that they were told it was from me. I haven't seen these girls for a couple of years, what with the falling out and all. Steph showed me pictures on her phone, and they are beautiful.

They probably have faded memories of me. Lilly is into sports and Lyla is just into being provocative, from what I can tell. They also have a new baby brother who's walking around, Steph adores them all.

Maybe one day I'll see them again, the space between me and Mellisa has mellowed, but just ain't there yet. I just want to say here, that I fell in love with those girls, and I wish them the best!

I helped Steph out this morning, getting her cars engine pressure tested, because it's been overheating. The verdict was a crack in the head gasket. The estimate was over a grand to fix it, or $30 for an additive called Blue Devil to try and seal it.

I contacted Riley and got his opinion. He said there was a third alternative, buy a complete used engine. He then hooked me up with car-part.com and found one in good condition, 70 miles away, for $425. So now it's in her court on how to proceed.

Then, I plugged my truck into that site and searched for leaf springs for my baby's old sagging rear end. Found some at Charlie's Used Auto Parts in Dayton, TN, 185 miles away, for $50 each. The route takes me right through Chattanooga, one of my favorite places here in the south.

So I bought them over the phone and they said they would be pulled and available next week. Road trip baby!

I have spent all day working on this blog. It started yesterday when I grabbed all of my 209 trashed posts, untrashed everyone of them, and then put them into a blog post list for the world to see.

What a stupid fucking thing to do! There are posts in there that were just down right foolish and didn't belong. There were posts in there that were inappropriate, or embarrassing.

So, I read every one of those trashed posts this morning. I was surprised to see there was stuff in there that was pretty good, or at least interesting. If they were stupid, I re-trashed them. So, here's the new list of 117 posts givin a new life, with 92 dropped.

I now expect you to stop whatever you are doing right now, and read them all :-)

A Hobby A Lady A Plan A Road Trip A Song About Shelby Action Ashley Meets Brian Astoria At 1100 Back Again Biloxi Bound Black Beauty Bring It BText 1.2 Care Carol Gone Carrying On Clarify Colleen Court Crumbs Current State Cut Off Dave And Sue Dawn Depressed Direction Disaster Done Face It Falling Apart Focus Football Fuck Gelato Gettin Weird Going On Going South Graduation Graphic Flyer Haight Hello Goodbuy Hmmm Homeless I Bailed Ice Interocean Jesus Just South Last Push Leslie Letter To Doc Life Regrets Life Song Like A Rock Live Slow Marci Marion Me And Gram Me Cubed Meantime Midnight More AI My Becky My End My Gut My List My Ride My Video MySQLi Nature Neighbor New Plan New Poem New Song New Word No Plan Old Reality Our Jesus Outfits Park Ghost Parkinsons Party Girl Party Pics Profit Sharing Pussy Ramblings Random Things Revolution Ripped Off Rock On RouteQue Run In Short Trip Shut Down Snow Day Solutions Sometimes Stephanie Still Dance Systems The Abyss The Cycle The Formula The Gift The Navy The Switch Things Thinkin To Blog Trailer Trash Mama Valuable Visitor Waterline Weird Trip World Ending 117 Total

I'm beginning to form a very short list of folks who would like to receive text notifications of my sometimes crazy ass posts. My grand-daughter Shelby is always up, and my probation officer friend Crissinda seems never offended, and often comments.

Today I learned of an unlikely source, my ex, Steph. She just called me realizing she had missed a particularly pathetic drunken post, because I trashed it the next morning, and mentioned it in the afternoon.

She said she gets a kick out of reading them. I guess she must have enjoyed my occasional intoxicated state during our relationship. I was never violent, and the sex was great.

So, I'm down to three people who would like to be notified of every post I make. Wow, what a statement to my current life!

Went to bed sober last night, giving the new prescription for tremors a shot. It was a restless night, but managed to get some sleep. And any sleep is better than non-moving unconsciousness. The tremors didn't stop, but the edge was a bit softer.

I skipped watching football for the most part yesterday since I don't have anything invested, but I did watch the last few minutes of that game where Trevor Lawrence brought the Jaguars back from being down 27-0, to win over the Chargers. These guys are now my pick for the Super Bowl.

I also watched all current episodes of Mayor of Kingstown on Paramount+. Pretty edgy show, I like it, and I just heard a great quote from it:

My father used to say, I can't wait to get old, for my mind to soften, and my memories to rot away. The hardest thing to do is forget, forget the scars that life gives you, forget the scars you gave others. The challenge, then, is hiding a few memories worth keeping from your dying mind. He told me to keep a journal and only write down the good things. Then, when the bad things fade away, you can read about the happy life you had.

I should take that advice...

My ducks weren't very hungry this morning, only Whitey and Cotton Top really chowed down. But still I can call them onshore from the middle of the lake and we just say good morning, and hang out. We have become good friends.

I wrote another drunken post last night, and trashed it when I woke up this morning. I just dug it out an read it, and realized it was a cry for help. Not that anybody could do anything, it's my problem, and mine to deal with.

But, I absolutely need to stop sending out text notifications. If anyone wants to drop by my blog, they can, and they will get what they get. I'm also turning off my phone and going off the grid, for a while...


My alcoholism worsens, as my depression deepens. I try daily to deal with it, fix it, but every day I fail. What can I do? I have no support system here, my best friend drinks with me, and I feel lost and defeated.

At least I'm not into hard drugs, like heroin, meth, coke or crack, so I should be grateful. I'm just a drunk, trying to numb all of the issues going on with my old body. Right now, I'm succeeding!

But I'm still just an old asshole, sitting here writing shit, and texting it down the throats of the few people I love. I am so sorry, and hopefully I can stop this now...


I've been following Lisa Marie's passing, along with her daughter Riley. Imagine going through life as Elvis Presley's oldest grand-daughter! She's 33, three years younger than my boy Riley.

My fifteen grand-kids have me, the old broken down man on Lee St, to admire. Of which, only three do, the rest I have no contact with. Ariella, Riley's baby girl is an exception, since she really doesn't know me.

On last years one year old birthday visit, she looked at me like Who the hell is this guy, with the long goatee? I never even held her because I didn't want to freak her out further. I'm hopeful that will change.

As i was driving down the main highway this morning, here in Lawrenceburg, TN, I realized this is probably going to be the place where I die. There's no way I'm going to rent a u-haul, tow my truck behind, and move to somewhere else!

It may happen on a trip somewhere, but this is where I have landed. After all of the amazing adventures, careers and lovers, this is it!

I ain't Elvis, but I'm still a good man, who holds no resentments towards anyone...


I gave Madeline a cute video camera for Christmas and I received a cute video back.

I almost bought the farm this morning. My little dead end street connects with a busy four lane highway at the bottom of two hills. Trucks coming in both directions speed up well above the 45 speed limit so they can get up either hill.

My trip to the ducks involves crossing the highway from my street (on the right) to another small street (on the left). This morning I crossed into the turn lane (red dot) and waited for the traffic to clear. A hole opened up as a large truck was coming down the hill in the right lane with another vehicle next to it.

Now I'm a good aggressive driver and I've made that turn many times in that situation. Unfortunately, it was cold, and I didn't let my truck warm up enough. As I crossed into the trucks lane, my engine hiccuped, leaving me stalled in the trucks path.

I was able to use my forward momentum to clutch her back to life, fortunately, because that truck had nowhere to go, and I would have been crushed.

On Friday the 13th, no less. Anyway, it was a good wake up call to back off my aggressive driving, and wait for the traffic to clear.

I'm very happy with my Medicare Advantage health insurance. Today was eye examination day, and I had gone in late December to buy a frame on last years allotment. So, I had a complete exam, ordered the glass, still have a frame credit if I want to get some shades this year, and all it cost was a $35 copay. Those visits to my Neurologist are only $10.

So I now have intermediate macular degeneration, on top of pre-Parkinsons and some funky shit going on with my blood. But I'm still alive! Still kickin the bucket down the road, and I havent fallen in a while now.

I've also got a roof over my head, money to buy food and booze, a trusty vehicle to get me around, and a couple friends. I really do need to stop bitching about life, and simply embrace it.

I also said a prayer to God today, sitting in the eye doctors exam room, waiting for my pupils to dialate. I had texted Jess about her baby girl who was sick with flu like symptoms, and she wrote back that she was taking her to the doctor today, and I prayed that she would be fine. It takes a lot for this old agnostic to pray, so I really hope he's lisitening.

btw: I just ran across an old post called My History, so if you don't know, here you go...


I saw my Neurologist today, a very kind young lady, and we talked about tremors, blood work, and alcoholism. I have some weird blood things going on and she has referred me to a Hematologist in a couple of weeks.

I appreciate people that can help you solve your problems, or even figure out what they are in the first place.

I don't solve anyone's problems, I'm just a Blogist. I let words and thoughts flow out of my brain, through my fingers, into a keyboard. Sometimes they're entertaining, sometimes informative, most times just down right crazy.

But I ain't getting paid, in fact it costs me to do it. If anyone comes across my blog, reads it for a bit, and never comes back, that's fine! I don't allow comments here, as opposed to my previous blog, so I never know if someone hates it, or loves it.

I do send out new post links to a few of my friends and I trust they will let me know when to stop doing this. The friendship will not end, I promise you.

I have determined that I cannot thread a needle, much less actually sew. But I can still dig up my coding skills when I need to fix something.

I was looking at my "All Posts" feature and clicking on them randomly, when I started seeing some of them show up with the dreaded "Sorry, I've deleted that Post" message. I then realized that I had written that PHP module to grab everything, even though I had changed my mind about viewers seeing some of them.

Oops. Hey, I write a lot of stupid posts, some more stupid than others, and I just send them to the trash the next day or so. But the All Posts code was grabbing everything. So I did a var_dump on them and found that Posts with a "state" of -2 were the trashed ones.

So I went to the code and added a conditional that specified "&& $row['state'] != "-2", and now that function shows 1,278 posts as opposed to 1,486. Which means I have 208 posts on this blog that I have written, and trashed.

Maybe I should write a module that just shows "Trashed" posts, and prove to the world how fucked up I am!

At least I have discovered that, even though booze is getting the better of me, and taking me down, I can still code...


I used to be very spoiled. For twenty years I had someone to cut my fingernails and toenails, trim the hair in my ears and my nose, give me haircuts, and rub my body on a massage table that she bought early on.

When my school bus kids needed treats, she was all over it. Creativity flowed from her hands, it was amazing.

I returned the favors as best I could, I could give a great body rub, I could make her satisfied, I was a kind man, and I could cook.

Today I asked my neighbor Daniel if he had anything to patch the hole in my grey sweat pants, because I have a couple of appointments this week, and I don't want my nuts falling out.

He hooked me up with a spool of thread and a needle. He then advised me to not attempt this repair until tomorrow morning.

I asked for his help and he just rolled his eyes, and left. Some things you just need to do by yourself...


I lived in Teton Valley, Idaho for a dozen years before moving here to Tennessee. My sister and her family still live there.

The Valley sits at 6200 feet and is surrounded by mountains, with the Grand Tetons on one side and the Big Hole range on the other. The Wyoming state line was a couple miles from where I lived, with the Grand Targhee Ski Resort at the end of the road, about ten miles away.

To top it off, a river ran right through it with trout that brought fisherman in from all over the world. It is quite the place and I enjoyed living and working there.

I still get the newsletter put out by the mayor, and I just snagged this artwork from it. It sums up the place nicely and just thought I would share...


Live hard and fast, end old and alone.

Look back at last, and see what you own.

Love is a bitch, never meant to be.

Turn off the switch, and set yourself free.

Fly to a land, leave it all behind.

Die in the sand, nothing on your mind.


Meanwhile, here's Daniel hanging at his wifes house, with the dogs:

I've been walking around my little house muttering, Ok, I'm done! But I can't figure out what it is I'm done with.

Drinking? Writing embarrassing blog posts? Loving? Living? I guess if I embraced that last one, all of the others would be resolved. But I'm still glad to be alive, as painful as it is sometimes.

Ok, so here's what I'm really done with:

 • Eating at the taco truck, like I did today, and regret it.

 • Searching for the kitten, I hope you're ok little guy.

 • Texting out blog post notifications, this is the last one.

 • Hanging on to lost love, need to move on.

 • Writing code, been done with that for a while.

 • Long road trips, I think.

 • Another cruise, twice and done now.

 • Buying anything from Amazon, two day shipping has turned into six or more, Prime video sucks, and I want my money back.

Another day, blending into the others, currently hanging with the present. I confirmed that my friend Carol is gone, called the nursing home.

I just ran into my buddy Ricky at the liquor store, he was buying a Fireball. We have shared a joint or two up in the park, on occasion. I invited him and his crusty friend to drop by my house this afternoon, he knows where it is, maybe I'll get stoned. Or probably not, who knows...

Steph called and asked me to check out an Idaho number that has been blowing up her phone, so I did. Had a nice conversation with a hispanic man who spoke little english. He had no idea what I was talking about, was working, and we talked for five minutes.

I think my friend Carol Stratton is gone. I've tried texting her in the nursing home in Rexburg Idaho, to no avail.

Carol contracted a childhood disease, I think Polio, that changed her life forever. I first met her in Victor, ID, driving a para-transit bus with a wheelchair lift. She was chunky, in a chair and sweet as hell. Over the years of driving her to and from the Driggs Senior Center for lunch, we became great friends.

Her sister lived in the house next door and took care of her for many years. One year the sister died, and Carol was moved to the nursing home, totally robbing her of her independence.

The last time I saw her, Steph and I drove down to Rexburg, and chatted with her from her hospital style bed. We have chatted on the phone a few times since I've been here, but it's been a while.

So I just called her. Her message box was full, and I belive she is gone. What an amazing woman! Crippled as a child and living her entire life in a wheelchair. Yet, she was one of the sweetest people I have ever known!

Crying tonight for you, my friend.

Update: I tracked down her nursing home, Temple View Transitional Care Center in Rexburg Idaho. I just called them and they confirmed that Carol has passed away. Hopefully see you on the other side, my friend!

I've felt really weird lately, and I'm trying to figure out how to describe it. Everything feels off a notch. My vision through my prescription shades seems really dark. Memories of people I've known pop into my head like they're standing beside me. Then I get dizzy like I'm going to pass out.

It could be a brain issue from a fall the other night, but the back of my head is finally not sore. I went through this last year, they scanned me every which way from a worst fall, and I was alright.

This is not a cry for help, this is documentation. I write about my life because I can, while I still have a platform to share it on. When folks get tired of hearing about my stuff, I trust they will let me know.

It's Thursday night, 1/5/2022. Tomorrow is my grand-daughter Shelby's 31st birthday. Please send a warm vibe her way up in government land, DC.

I have a few people in my life that I send notifications of new blog posts to. Not every post, but most of them. The list is short: Shelby, Christina, Elizabeth, Steph, Katy, Riley, Jessica, Skoge, Daniel, and Dave.

So far they have not screamed at me to stop, so I won't untill they do :-)

I suppose when that list drops to zero, I'll hang my blogging jacket up in the closet, and say good night...


Amanda Kohlberger plays "Lori" in a low budget horror film called "Two Days Back", where people get slashed to death with a knife.

Why is this important? Her brother Bryan is the accused killer in that Idaho crime where four students where slashed to death, with a knife!

I just rented the movie on Prime Video for $1.99, watching now...

Update: Watched the movie, and it was awful. Nothing really gorey, just bad acting and a stupid plot. But, it involved two college girls, a few guys, and one crazed dude, who took out a bunch of them with a knife. Now I don't know if you're following the Idaho murders, I am, having lived there, but this is crazy shit! Wow...


I went to the park this morning at my normal time of 0830 to feed the ducks, and there was a man and a young girl tossing them bread into the water. From a big bag of bread! I've done my research and I know that bread is one of the worst things to feed them.

I just sat in my truck watching for a minute, with my bag of healthy stuff sitting next to me, and wondered what to do. I certainly don't own these birds, although we've gotten very close over the last few months. I really wanted to jump out and confront the two about it, but I had no right to do so.

Besides, the girl was probably his daughter (around five) and they were bonding. I also suspect this was not their first time here. Some days I show up and the ducks will come visit me and hang out, but they're not hungry. I think I just found out why.

So I went back home and my morning has been ruined. The old expression "You need to get a life" was never more true for me now.

The park opens at 0700 so I think I need to start going there at 0730. That's my way of getting a life!

As I fade towards the sunset, I would like to take a moment to reflect on my values, because I can. But instead of defining who I am, I will define who I am not:

• A Crook. The idea of stealing anything from anybody, or taking advantage of an illegal situation, is so far from my reality that I can't even explain it.

• A Liar. I just don't lie, period. Sometimes I will use semantics to suppress the truth, for that persons benefit, but I fully embrace honesty, if folks can handle it. Then I have to make the judgement if that's possible.

• An Asshole (anymore). This applies to everything I do now in life. I am polite and friendly, I help folks that need it, I smile, even though it's hidden behind my toothless goatee. I do my best to be a good man and neighbor. I think long and hard now, about my initial reactions!

• A Sucker. I've been ripped off lately due to my lack of ability to spot a scam. I have recovered my minimal losses and everything is good. My defenses are now on high alert!

I guess that pretty much sums it up...


I smoked a joint with three stewardess and my business partners in a private room at the back of a commercial jet flying between SFO and LAX back in the early eighties.

My buddies Bill and Dave and I had a software business going on and frequently had to fly to Los Angeles. Things were real loose back in those days and we always ended up getting drunk and smoking cigarettes with the girls.

They had a private room at the back of the plane where we could kick back and relax, the girls liked us and we partied hard.

One night on the way back to the City, on an almost empty flight, I pulled out a joint and we all smoked it. Think about todays security standards, and let that sink in...

Those were amazing times! We went down to ComDex in Vegas for several years, at the height of the birth of the Personal Computer. The parties were huge and insane and my office was a strip club south of town, where my partners would bring folks to meet me, The Programmer.

I have since been homeless once, and flat broke twice. Isn't life amazing!

My first memory was lying on the floor as a baby, watching my mom in the kitchen. I described the scene to her one day and she recalled the house down in Southern California. I was less than a year old.

I actually still remember it, after all these years. I was in the middle of a small living room, the entrance to the kitchen was about eight feet away, on the left. Mom was facing the counter either cooking or washing dishes.

The teddy bear that now sits alongside my big TV, and watches over me here, must have been nearby.

A great memory, and now some days I don't remember what I did yesterday, which is why I really do this blog. Meanwhile I spotted something white in the creek from my kitchen window. Turned out to be a downed tree with a little snow.

My step dad Paul was an asshole. To my nieces and nephew on my sisters side, he was their grandfather, and I'm sorry kids, but I've got to call him out for what he was.

He's been dead now for over thirty years, a chain smoking long haul truck driver that adored his daughter, my half sister, while barely enduring my brother and I.

In the early years, between five to twelve, he whipped my brother and I regularly with his belt over the slightest things. I guess that's what he determined his role to be, the discipliner.

When we made it up to Paradise CA, the whippings stopped. My older brother Dana was big enough to kick his ass, and I would have put up a good fight.

He rarely participated in our lives, instead hanging out in his car, parked in the driveway, reading paperback books.

I was a track star in High School, and played first base for a high ranking California Babe Ruth team, and he never attended a single event.

One summer when I was sixteen I took off from Paradise and hitch hiked around the state for three months. I wasn't missed.

The reason I thought about Paul today, was due to some pigeons being raised in a coup on top of an apartment building, in a movie I've been watching.

I was raising about twenty pigeons as a kid when we moved North out of Visalia. At the last minute he gave into my mom's pleadings and strapped their cages to the big trailer hauling our stuff up to Paradise.

They survived the trip, and loved hanging out in the tall pine trees. One day when I was trying to get them down from the trees into their cages, I accidently killed one with a rock. I was heartbroken but Paul freaked out and said That's It and the next day when I got home from school, they were gone. And I had no idea what happened to them, never did find out.

So, it's going to be interesting if there is another side, and I run into that guy...


It's been a strange start to 2023. I woke up this morning thinking I had done something major yesterday, gone somewhere important, then finally realizing I didn't go anywhere. I fed the ducks, that was it, I think. Maybe I bought some groceries, or was that Saturday...

My mind is heading south, while my body heads east. I must have dreamed about doing something yesterday, and somehow can't distinguish between dream and reality.

At least I have a blog to confirm what I did and did not do. It now appears I just watched NetFlix.

This morning I called my ducks over from across the lake, and when they got out of the water, they weren't hungry, they just stopped by to say hi. It's gettin weird...


I just started watching a NetFlix series called Kaleidescope, and the underlining theme is, mistrust.

They keep saying What it comes down to, is you, versus the people that want what you have! Then they follow it up with The only thing that matters is, can you manipulate them, better than they manipulate you?

It makes me wonder how many people, and businesses, live by this position?

What a sad take on life! First off, if someone can give me a convincing argument that they need something I have, more than I do, it's theirs.

Secondly, I don't manipulate anyone, or anything. It's not in my blood. I embrace honesty, as evident by this blog. I don't share everything here, just enough to establish my position. But everything I say here, is the truth.

I wish you all a great year ahead, and I love you!