When I'm on a roll, I create two or three blog posts a day, and maintain them throughout the day, tweaking them to express exactly what I want to say. If you read it early on, it's probably morphed.

Then I write a summary post, to summarize my posts for the day. That's what this is!

Summary posts tend not to deviate much, deviate much, deviate much, much

During a conversation with Shelby about how cool shotguns are, I realized that I kept referring to my gun, as a her. Then, in a moment, I named her Betty!

The last and best human Betty I have had in my life, was Steph's mom, Betty.

She and seven year old Tori spent a summer with Steph and I, at our sprawling log home place in Idaho. Betty and I had become friends before that, back in the Seattle area, and their visit just sealed the deal, I loved Betty, my friend. And I taught Tori how to ride a bike that summer!

Betty was the family matriarch, the one at the top of the heap. She was tough, strong and honest. A nice way to define a shotgun!

My neighbor Daniel is a gun expert. We've had several conversations about the proper state to have your short barreled shotgun in, while you sleep with it in the back of your truck.

I kept maintaining that just racking the barrel should be enough to deter someone from opening up my canopy. His position is that I should be able to fire off one round quickly to defend myself.

In other words the weapon should be racked, with one in the chamber, ready for a finger press to release the safety, then dropping that finger down and firing.

I have conceded to his position. My shotgun will now be protecting me in the back of my truck, ready to defend in about one second.

I also gave her a spa day at a gun shop down the road recently. She's old, flawless, locked and loaded! Wow, I now get where the expression locked and loaded comes from. This is a state of mind, you're either ready to fight, or you're ready to pretend to be.

So The Safety is that little round thing in the upper righthand corner of the trigger area. This button protects yourself and others from accidental discharge. And it better be ready to give it up, without too much effort, when you need it to.

I am right on the verge of stopping my duck and geese feeding completely. This morning it was only the three duck group, and they weren't that hungry.

It's been a fun run, but sometimes you need to step back and analyze your actions, determine if they still have value, and cut your losses if needed.

Tomorrow could be the day, where I just jump in my truck and head south, skipping the park. Hudson, if you're reading this, no backup needed, but that's your choice.

I've been putting a hundred miles a week on my truck, driving to the Park and back. The feed and crushed corn costs $30 for the two bags, and I've gone through a few.

The rewards are currently quite distant from the cost and effort. I've grown to love those characters, and I truly feel it's mutual. The breakup will be tough, but what's new.

I'll still have some quack left over, so a few surprise feeding visits to the Park during the Spring and Summer would be fun. Just not every day, anymore...

How long can you go down the wrong path, before it's too late, to take the right path?

(Netflix, Outer Banks Series, season 3, episode 7).

Yea, I watched the first two seasons, where cute chicks in tight cutoffs, along with buff neurotic guys, were chasing down a city of gold. Now I'm half way through season 3.

Oh well, it performs as a background to my life, as I move through it, on the wrong path, moment by moment. The content to that background has been coming from the connection, and I need it to start coming from reality!

The best backgrounds come from the highways, the oceans, and the beaches of my travels!

There is a rift among the ducks and they now hang out as two separate groups. Whitey, Blue and a wild one are in one group, with the other four in the second.

They approach me from different spots and converge at my bag. Then instead of them all lining up in a row waiting for my hand to pass their beaks, the groups fight among themselves. They seem way more territorial, than hungry.

And poor goose gets picked on from both sides, but he can take it.

I suppose I should mosey over to our local community college and sign up for Duck Psychology 101. Something is definitely going on with these guys, and I'm probably the only person in the park that's aware of it.

When I returned home, Daniel came over and gave me a new hat. He and his wife Jen drove down to Buc-ees convenience store, South of Huntsville in Athens, AL, off I-65. They spent hours there.

Daniel has been raving about this place since he stopped there coming back from a convention in Georgia. He keeps saying I gotta go, it will blow my mind. I don't know if he's noticed, but my mind has been blown for a while now.

But he's right, a road trip to an Alabama convenience store an hour away might be great for me. Tuesday looks nice! I've been watching Buc-ees YouTube videos and I've learned that they don't allow semi-trucks or overnight parking. I'll have the pulled brisket sandwich for lunch.

Daniel also loves to buy me hats, for some strange reason. He's bought me four and I love them. The newest is on the right. I'm missing one, the little dapper beret thing. Hopefully it's around the house but the last I remember wearing it, was on that Christmas Cruise...

Taken in the large bathroom of my handicap room, Christmas Caribbean Cruise.

Update: Daniel lost his identical cap, so I stepped up and bought us each another one.

Who am I? I'm a good man. I help people out when I can. I wish no ill will towards anyone. I love and appreciate life, for myself and my animal friends around me.

I have many addictions, one of which is sitting at this little laptop, and writing. I wish all of my limited list of friends, had a blog. A place where they could lay their souls bare, to the world.

I would read all of them, I want to know! And then you can delete them.

I guess that's what I do, I lay my soul bare to the world. But why?

Is it an attempt to make myself relevant? If I didn't blog, would anyone remember?

Who will remember me when I'm gone? Only a select few. I believe the term here is legacy, of which I leave little.

I guess my blogs are my legacy. It costs about two hundred bucks a year to maintain them. They are like windows into my soul at each moment in time.

One of my neighbors on this quiet little street is an old retired guy who loves automobiles. He has them parked carefully on his front yard, and out on the street. Seven or eight, a couple of them cute. Tony is a hermit, I don't know him well.

I whipped up this printed page, and I'm taking it over to his back door tomorrow. He never answers his door, so I'll place it under a rock.

In the meantime, Shelby (the newly anointed Travel Agent) is working on a beach hottub massage package for me somewhere...

I've had Hank Williams JR on my mind all afternoon, as I wallow in depression over my probably lost duck friends.

So, I attached my Sony to a tripod and grabbed this:

I ended up with an extra domain for Hudson, called hudsonsbook.com. I created a directory on the server, and connected them. Then I copied up the little template code from closehudman.com, and had a base to work with, in under five minutes.

The original idea was to have it re-direct to his FaceBook page, ya know, just tell his buddies to goto hudsonsbook.com and magically end up there.

Slight issue, he don't FaceBook! Anyway, for demo purposes, it will re-direct you to the post I did when Hudson was over.

hudsonsbook.com Try it!

Facebook don't like me! When I tried logging in to my old account, I got a nasty alert box saying my account had been susspended. So I created a new one, but somehow they figured out that I as the new guy, was they guy they don't like.

And wham! I get the susspension notice on my new signin. I can't get on Facebook now. Ok, I don't like them either...

I've got Hudson's website, closehudman.com up and going.

Nothing important there yet, just enough to display a page. I've offered to whip up a basic responsive site for him, or he can clear this code out and do something different.

We'll see where this goes!

I just had a great text chat with my grand-daughter Shelby. I gave her my honest opinion about the domain name she is promoting for her business.

coastalcityconcierge.com.

Huh? Who knows how to spell "concierge"? I told her you need a name that folks can reach, otherwise you lose them.

Then she loving lectured me that search engines can break a url down into keywords. I've been dissing stupid convoluted domain names for decades, and now I realize that I was wrong.

So now, you can buy a domain name like iwanttostickmyfingerupyourbutt.com and get some hits!

What an absolutely amazing world we live in!

I had an issue yesterday with my web hosting company, Ionos, about a domain name I ordered for Hudson. The one I initially bought was not going through, so I canceled it, and bought a new one with his handle, closehudman.com, as he sat here.

I had my hosting site open, ready to see it appear, but it did not. You need to set up the domain and link it to a subdirectory on their servers, then you can upload code and make it come alive!

So I called them. I love Ionos, you get a four digit pin number when you click the phone icon, while you're fully logged in on their site. Within seconds of dialing, you are speaking with a real human being, asking for that pin number. Once they receive it, they know 100% that I am the owner of the account, and they have everything right up there on their screen.

As an old tech guy, I am so glad to be able to experience this kind of connectivity. It seems that all calls are heading down to the Philippines, and answered by sweet women who speak fair English, with names you can barely distinguish from their greeting.

So I'm sitting here in southern Tennessee this morning, talking to a Security person, who I was directed to by another lady.

She and I hit it off and by the end of the call I was telling her about a friend of mine who has a house in the Philippines, that I'm welcome to use. OMG, I'm hitting on a young woman that would maybe like to meet an old American!

Woah, wait! It didn't go that far, she told me to wait a day, and everything should be fixed.

Ah, what did I call about, and what needs to be fixed?

I stayed up real late last night and fell asleep in my chair, upright and fully clothed. When I woke up, the sun was up, and then I climbed into my bed and slept some more, fully clothed.

I woke up at 0930, way past my duck feeding time, so I jumped in my truck and drove to the park, fully clothed.

The ducks were bitchy this morning, fighting among themselves while eating from my hand, all of them were picking on Goose so I tossed him some extra. People drove by so I was really glad I was fully clothed. Besides, sitting naked in front of hungry bitchy birds is not wise.

I am now home, working on massaging another retired day into something memorable. And yes I am, and will remain that way, until I am not...

I have just spent an amazing afternoon with my friend Hudson. We hooked up here at my house, and my goal was to teach him some basic website stuff.

We worked our way through the basics, which he easily got, then I bought him a domain name that matches his social media handle: closehudman.com

It will be a while before it goes online, but he got the basics, quickly.

I shared some enlightening things with him today. He's sixteen, doing great in our local school system, has plans for an engineering degree from Purdue, with much more, and he reminds me of me at his age.

Turns out, the kid is a savant, in so many ways. My mind is totally blown! He has his laptop open, tapped into my WIFI, as we share tech.

I remember at his age listening to a school intercom announcement that our President had just been killed, and to go home! I had no technology to share that with...

We had a great afternoon! I thought that all I had to offer to Hudson is the knowledge to build a basic internet page, but I now know, that I am not the teacher, I am the student...

Hudson knows his history, his science, his everything! I am blown away, and it is an honor to know the man that will eventually rule the world!

Happy Presidents Day!

Daniel told me he had a Duckulator, a device for measuring ducks. I've been wondering about the total mass of my feathered friends so he went to his truck and brought it over.

My young friend Hudson, after realizing from reading my blog, that I used to be a computer genius, said he wanted to pick my brain sometime.

I am totally open to that. Obviously he has an interest in code, but I don't know the level he's at. We need to talk.

My web development stopped at a PHP HTML, Javascript, JQuery, CSS index.php based level. It was the way to go a few years back, and a lot of websites built with that structure are still thriving.

There are many great new programming languages out there now, but I'm done with all of that. If Hudson want's to learn the basics of establishing a website, getting good clean code up there, that looks great on a phone, and maintaining it with Visual Studio Code, then I would love to help him.

After learning the basics, he could dive into the new stuff, and have a great career if he chose to...

I just fired up my Dev Box and whipped up a basic template for him to work on. I had to attach it to one of my domains (I chose Kwackd) for testing.

I actually have the domain name hudsonsbook.com sitting in my cart. :-)

I'm getting a free in home health care visit on Mar 15, between 0800 and 0900. I had one last year, I was bored, and I wanted the $25 gift card. I barely remember it, some dude sitting in the chair asking me questions and scribbling on a clipboard.

Now I'm getting another guy named Clayton Wilson, and I have a speech prepared:

Before we get started, Clayton, let me say that I trust you're a good guy, and I'm sure you're qualified to do this job, but why the hell can't I get me a young country lady in your place?

It would be nice to enjoy a focused witty conversation, about my health in this case, with a down home real woman seated in my comfy chair. It's one of the biggest things I miss in life, actually.

Women have played a major role in my life, and I value and enjoy their company. As I'm older now, the physical and sexual attractions, while still may be there, take second stage to real conversations about real life.

It's a beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon, door wide open, standing on my little porch, enjoying life!

Then I heard from my friend Skoge, and my heart sank. I debated wether to share this, in respect for her privacy, but she is my second oldest friend! Only I know who she really is, or where she is.

Doctors just found a tumor or cyst on her right ovary that appears to have liquid in it. Probably going to have a hysterectomy, then determine if it is cancerous.

Skoge is a few months older than me and she follows my blog and we keep in touch. In fact, I chatted with her on the phone the other day. She had reached out and we connected, now I know why.

I told her I would pray for her. To me, that means keeping her in my thoughts, in an uplifting and positive way.

My second oldest friend, needs my good vibes sent her way!

My oldest friend is my little sister Lorelle.

Driving on Highway 43 is tough! For those that don't know, it's the four lane main drag from Florence, AL, through the heart of Lawrenceburg, TN and on into Columbia, TN.

Driving that highway to town, just to go to the store or do anything, is challenging. The speed limit is 35, most everybody does 45. People are constantly turning right into businesses, or using the center divider lane for left side turns.

Sometimes you merge into the inside lane, from the outside lane, at 45 mph, and slam into the back of a horse drawn Amish buggy carrying a family, doing 5 mph, and kill them. While drunk.

That happened to a friend of a friend of mine, shortly after I moved here over four years ago. Devastating for everyone, but you always have to be on Amish watch while driving that highway.

The driver did some time, agreed to enter an Alabama Christian run, alcohol treatment facility for 1.5 years, and he's now out, and straight.

Alright, one life was salvaged, while others were lost. Giving the guy a life sentence would have served nothing. It did raise the Amish visibility issue to the forefront, and we have not had another since!

Here's Hwy 43, heading North, at the busiest intersection in our little town.

There are also a bunch of ways to avoid that nonsense, and I've learned most of them. Sometimes I make this and the adjoining lights, followed by a stoplight free run all the way to Krogers. It's how I get my kicks around here.

The ducks were weird this morning. I found them just on the other side of the dock building, hanging out with a few geese. It's a pretty sunny morning, perfect place to do a feeding. I even get to sit on a park bench.

But they weren't eating, well, except for Whitey and Cottontop, who would ride with me to McDonalds for Big Macs, if I offered. And they just took a couple of handfuls.

The geese were moving in for their share, but they always get along, I don't think that was it. So the bottom line is, I could have stayed home, and that's a radical thought.

I keep thinking that my Quack is a vital supplement to their diet on the lake. It sure wasn't today...

I wrote four blog posts yesterday, and apologies to my friends for four notifications. Like you have nothing better to do then to read the babbling nonsense that emanates from my twisted brain, throughout the day!

It's a tough job maintaining a blog, keeping my sanity somehow, and feeding the ducks daily. But I'm up for it, and very lucky to have it!

Love has entered my life, so many times. As i decline I only have a few loves left. And the beauty is, they all know who they are!

I still love everyone I have loved in the past! Thank you for crossing my path, making a connection, and sharing love. But now you are gone from my life, and I wish you well, if you are still here.

Memories, of every human and animal I have ever loved, define me. Love is Life, squared.

Totally alone, on my dead end street, on a Friday night. Daniel is down in Georgia for an Ice House convention, Jeff has a new job and he can't play, and Drew has left his den, finally.

So how do I sum up this Tennessee lovefest? Just that every person I've ever met has been a gift to me. Thank you Life!

We all know the expression "Time is flying by so quickly", and we all have lived it, still living it now.

But lately, and I don't know when the switch flipped, Time is now slowing down for me. As I get older, I can't say that expression anymore.

When you have no agenda, limited human contact, and 1,440 minutes in a day to process your reality, Time drags down to a slow roll across the internet.

Seconds seem longer, like they've stretched out just for me, within my slow moving world.

I know all you youngins are mostly running in "Making my world better!" mode, and that's good! But keep in mind, if you are destined to make it to my age, your perception of time may change...

And I leave you with a formula: Time = ( Bucket / Wagon ) * Money.

I finished my evening last night, with a hot lemon drink and my meds. Woke up this morning determined to brush off my demons, and have a straight day today!

I made it up to Kroger by 0700 and stocked supplies. Then I fed my friends at the Park, while listening to Ranger Rachel (head of the Park) and the sheriff, having fun on our local radio, The X. I've met Rachel, not the sheriff. I like this small town banter!

Then I tripped over something mid-morning, looked like a wagon.

After watching a movie in the dark, I moseyed down to check the creek, and found my bucket had been blown down there.

I think this is a metaphor of my life. For me to kick the bucket, I now have to travel further down the road, to reach it, and assume some giant wagon don't come crashing down on my head, and take me out first.

Our southern Tennessee Lawrence County was all over the Nashville news yesterday, as a couple of EF-0 or EF-1 tornados touched down. The one on Grandaddy Rd was actually pretty close

The one that hit Ethridge further North is where Daniels wife lives. No structural damage to their house, but stuff around the place got broken up.

We got lucky compared to some places in the South, over the last few years I've lived here. Hey, I've been through major earthquakes in downtown San Francisco, ten stories up, rocking and rolling. Nature can be badass when it want's to.

I know all of my neighbors on my dead-end street (Drew, Jeff, Tony and Daniel), except for the folks up facing the highway in houses on each side of our street.

Yesterday I met one of them as she drove up and down looking for her dog. A cute young lady, a good contribution to a neighborhood full of frumpy old guys. She told me her name but I've forgotten, since that was yesterday.

Today I saw her walking down our street, barefooted, on a misty afternoon, calling out for her lost dog. I believe it's name is GaGa.

I wanted to invite her in for a drink, or a smoke, get to know what's up? But I didn't, it probably would have been perceived as creepy. I am the oldest man in Lawrenceburg, TN, after all.

Daniel said she lives there with her fiance. She is his next door neighbor and I believe he said he talked with her once.

Anyway, summer will be here soon, hot days, walking her hopefully found dog, in skimpy outfits, for our entertainment. Ok, that was creepy, but I make no apologies, this street needs help!

I received a notice in the mail yesterday that the oil and gas company that sends me royalties on occasion, has settled their lawsuit for fifteen million.

Who knows what will be left after legal fees, or how many folks will split this up, but I will be getting a check, one day. Thanks dad!

Hudson fed my ducks yesterday, before school. He found them down at the dam, thanks buddy! I never know where they're going to be when I pull up to the dock. What do they think they are, wild birds?

Somewhere along the video jungle that I traverse, armed with my clicker, one person said to another, What's your dream?

So what's mine? Landing on an ocean beach somewhere, as I sail towards the sunset of life.

Recognizing what it is, and expressing it, is the first step to getting there, I suppose.

But I still have some years left now, which gives me time to work on it.

So what's your dream?

I spent this morning hanging out with some great young ladies. The first one that struck my attention was a pretty, petite woman, mid-fifties, who verified my data with the Maury Regional Health computer.

I asked her if the simple band on her wedding finger meant she was married. She said yes, and I refrained from saying what I wanted to, which was "he's a lucky man!". Daniel would have said it...

I was at a new place, Imaging. I finally got called in for the main event, the Ultrasound. And then I met Kim, a really nice young lady, 45, three kids in the Lawrence county school system, middle and high.

As she moved a warm thing over my lower body, we talked about travel, and life. Beautiful eyes above a mandatory mask. I could easily incorporate this into my daily routine.

I turned Kim on to my blog, then I asked if I could get all of the images she was taking. She said sure, and burned them to a CD. I will be firing up my dev box shortly and copying them to a USB stick for editing on my laptop.

Then I moseyed down the road to my blood doctor. In and out of different rooms, poked, prodded, and blood sucked, I finally came face to face with the expert, holding the entire state of my body, in his hands.

If this was TikTok I would make this Part 1, but I hate that shit.

So when I left the doctor's office, I drove straight to Williams Park, a cool little hang off Hwy 43, heading back home. I had planned for this event, depending on the results. Made myself a couple of drinks, smoothed my mind, and thought about his final statement, limit yourself to two average cocktails a day, and you should be alright.

So what did he say? My liver has a little fat around it, my bone marrow is low, and I have a vitamin B12 deficiency.

In other words, I'm fucking alright!

I've been driving vehicles in America for sixty two years. I've left a few along the highway, but I never totaled one. I loved every special vehicle that came into my life, wether personal or professional.

I've never hurt anyone as a result of my driving. I haven't had a ticket in more than forty years, last one for speeding up a hill in Seattle.

I have yet to file a claim with my insurance company for anything, but I did use their included towing services a couple times.

The bottom line? I've driven millions of miles around this country, enjoying every moment, and I've managed to slip by those brief moments, where I shouldn't have been in, and survived.

So, the old man is still driving around town, in a cool old truck. I think I'm doing great!

I respect all of the people here in Lawrenceburg, TN. but I respect the workers the most. Yea, we have our share of folks who have learned how to live off the system, more power to them, along with the retired oldies like me, but for the most part, everyone here is working.

My neighbor Daniel works seven days a week, as the heating and air genius for Lawrence County's sprawling school system, and then maintaining several big Ice Houses all around, on the weekend.

His wife works in a cookie production plant, on the midnight shift.

Everybody around me in is running in full work mode, or mom mode (a job), or the I'm so fucked up I can barely move, but I really want to go to Krogers mode!

In the evening they all fire up the barbecue, some fire up smoke, and then they slide into party down mode...

I have to say, I have set up my little house as a survival station, with benefits.

The 65" TCL TV that I bought at Walmart when I moved in, along with the soundbar and subwoofer from my previous Idaho setup, gives me amazing A/V.

The small little kitchen space next to my stove in the corner, has been my challenge, where every cubic millimeter matters.

It's finally landed in a very workable place. The small air-fryer is sitting atop hundred year old bricks from downtown, and Pipers old treat basket holds tools for the fryer, which has become my new best cooking friend.

I only use the oven top to boil water for lemon drinks, or to hard boil eggs. I haven't fired up a frying pan there for months!

Combine that with the fact that I can sit out on my porch and do whatever I want, and not see another person for hours, priceless!

Tomorrow is medical day for me, leaving the house at 0600 and driving up to Columbia. Getting an ultrasound, then a meeting with my blood doctor afterward at his office down the road.

They're all part of the huge Maury Regional Health system here, so I assume the doctor can bring the results up on his computer, and we can talk about it.

I have to start fasting this afternoon, and Daniel is bringing over some of his homemade pulled pork. I'll stick some in a container for dinner tomorrow.

It should be an interesting day, have my insides scanned, then get an expert opinion...

My bird feeders security has been breached. I opened the door this morning and a squirrel jumped down from it and took off. Bird seed gone.

I really thought the spinning funnel things would keep them off the wire. Maybe he jumped from a nearby tree?

It's a nice day and my door is open and the squirrel is at the feeding board on my porch, eating the rest of the seed there. Standing up straight and staring me down. It's like, I own you now, dude!

I've been watching a great show on Paramount+ called Mayor of Kingstown. It represents a fictional city in the U.S. and is all about gangs, prisons, and a cool dude called the Mayor that runs everything.

It got me to thinking, is there really a town or city called Kingstown somewhere? It's a perfectly sensible name for a city in this country, so I went looking and found one, the only one! Kingstown, West Virginia, a fork in the road...

Pretty clever move on the producers part, I'm impressed.

I do the heavy lifting, just to lighten your load!

I have a deep travel history with Mexico, partied in the Mexican resort towns on the western side, many times, and driven across it from Texas and taking the ferry over to Baja.

But I have never done Cancun. I would say it is at the top of my travel list, should I choose to travel again. The weather in April is great, and damn if I couldn't use some warm sun, an all inclusive resort, and some adventure.

I have all of the tools to get there. I have a solid passport, I'm triple covid vaxed with an Omicron infection on a cruise boat. I have enough cash to pull it off.

Wether my legs would hold up to walking the beaches, is another story, but I would give it my best.

So the question remains, do I wallow around this funky old house until I fall over and can't get up, or do I live! I could still do this and make it back to enjoy Tennessee with my daughter Becky around June.

I don't need help, I just need to have the balls to go for it!

Update: Shelby just turned me on to Playa del Carmen!

Sometimes in life we need help, and sometimes it ain't there. Which is usually caused by the actions and decisions we have made in the process of getting to that point.

Help is often needed in different ways, emotional, financial, guidance, and friendship. I try to help people all the time, and I've actually helped a lot of folks around here.

Lately I stagger around my little house wishing I had help, someone to step in and say Jim, you're fucking up what you have left of your life!, and then help me change it.

But I do not. So, I will continue to stagger on legs that are failing me, with a semblance of pride, until I can't.

I will observe and write about life, ponder the mistakes of my past with compassion, and do my best to make it to the next day.

This is not the best description of living, but it's what I got, and I'm grateful for every moment, no matter how good or fucked up they may be.

Update: I just got a response to this post: Get your shit together papa!! Ok, sure, I'll put that down as tough love help!

My previous blog. busdriverjim.com, allowed comments to be made on posts. That was interesting and social, maybe I should have allowed them here, but I did not. I wanted to take full responsibility for every word.

Here's an example from my old blog. Wow, I was in a much better place five years ago...

My neighbor Daniel has been trying to talk me into hitting the local convenience store and ordering biscuits and chocolate gravy.

Apparently, this is a Southern thing. The gravy is made with sugar, flour and cocoa. I got pretty belligerent, saying I was not going to eat the stuff.

He recorded my reaction with his I-Phone and texted it to me. The video is blurry and had some weird extension, .3gpp and I had to convert it to .mp4. I thought about putting it on YouTube, but wisely decided not to.

It's funny as hell and I will only share it with my friends, so, if you're interested and have my phone number, I will text it to you.

Then, on the way home this morning, he stopped and bought some for me. It was exactly how I perceived it to be. No further comment. :-)

I had a cute little blonde girlfriend when I was attending the old Merritt College in Oakland off Grove Street. It was a predominantly black school, and a good one. One day we walked into Melvin Newton's office and said we wanted to be in his African American History class.

Melvin was the brother of Huey Newton, the founder of the Black Panther Party. They had a bad rep as a violent group in Oakland, but they actually founded over 60 community support programs there.

I had no fear of living in that town, I walked everywhere, even in tough neighborhoods. Little kids would call me honky, because they didn't know better.

My girlfriend and I wanted to be in Melvin's class, but he said no. He wanted it to be black only, so the students would feel comfortable sharing their history.

We accepted that, but the reality was, we were discriminated against.

Ha! I've actually told this story before. :-)

The ducks were hanging out over at the Dam so I moseyed over there. It was an interesting feeding, and as I was sitting down I fell over backward. Startled them and I had to coax them back. Then the geese showed up...

I totally trashed this blog yesterday and it is a miracle that you are reading this, or any other post I have written over the last four years.

I kept getting a notice from my web host to upgrade to PHP 8.0. If I did not, they were going to start charging me maintenance for my current version at eight bucks a month.

So, I upgraded all of my sites to 8.0. It broke my blog completely, anybody dropping by yesterday morning/afternoon would have seen nothing, or some PHP junk.

Fortunately, I had backed up my blog and it's database prior to the upgrade.

Anyway, I cranked up my dev box, and everything I did was not working. I tried upgrading my blogging platform from ver 3 to 4, and that just put the finishing touches on my blog. Dead to the world.

I was suddenly in a horrible state, realizing I had trashed four plus years of blogging. My only recourse was to recover my backup.

It was a complicated process, I'm getting drunk, I'm freaking out, but somehow I managed to recover this blog! When the site came back up I was screaming "yes" out to my neighborhood and running around like an idiot!

So here's the new reality: I'll pay the eight bucks a month to run an old version. I ain't changing nothing, rock on!

I minored in math at college, taking algebra, geometry and trigonometry. I got A's in the first two but when I got a B in trig, I realized I had maxed out. No calculus for me. Besides, computer programming had become my passion, and that's a world of ones and zeros and languages.

I also took chemistry and biology classes, but as my computer career advanced, I never used any of that stuff. After a few years, I had forgoten all that math and science. I did take electronics and some of those principles served me well on occasion.

I bought a hand held calculator at Radio Shack when they were invented, and by the time calculators were available on computers, I had forgotten how to do basic arithmetic on paper.

If a calculator is not within my fingertips, or a mouse click, I can just ask my Alexa device to solve math problems for me.

My neighbor Daniel shocked me when he said he could do long division on paper, so I made up a problem and he solved it. I'm impressed, I can't do that anymore!

I was just getting ready to shut down tonight, drinking my lemon juice, when my sweet young friend Madeline blew me a kiss and said that Girl Scout Cookies are ready. Made this old mans evening!

My buddy Daniel and I having a peaceful conversation...

My daughter Becky's butt dial to me today started a cascade of events. She read my post about it and laughed, then we started making plans for her visit here in Spring. She's free within dates in May and June, with days from seven to ten.

She want's to do Dollywood, that's great, never been there! There are many fine places to see here. She can be my sidekick in my little two seater truck. I can stay in two bed motel rooms along the way, with my daughter!

Her daughter Shelby would love to come down for a weekend and do DollyWood with us, that would be amazing. My boy Riley, Jess and the baby might be free for a June trip to Tennessee, staying at a timeshare.

Ok, here's the old man's fantasy, all of us meeting at DollyWood! Damn, that would be amazing. Maybe even my grand-daughter Taylor could make it down with her twins, from the North?

Becky is the source of my fourteen precious grand-children, many of which I will probably never meet. To make a connection with any of them, and their mother, is an old mans dying fantasy. But most importantly, I want to reconnect with my daughter.

I got to thinking about famous people I have come in contact with. Folks that I have met, and physically touched.

 • Muhammad Ali, boxer.

 • Billy Graham, evangelist.

 • Adam Osborne, invented the Osborne portable computer.

 • Mark Zachmann, created PC Paintbrush.

 • Gary Kildall, founder of Digital Research.

 • Sonny Barger, boss of the Hells Angels.

I was sitting in the park around noon today, reading my mail, when the phone rang. My daughter Becky's name appeared!

She and I reconnected a while back via text, after almost fourty years, but she wasn't ready to talk directly. So, I thought Is this the moment? Then I answered the phone.

Silence. Then I heard some muffled voices, a woman with a husky voice, a man in the distance, talking about what I believe to be, a dog.

I had been butt dialed! I tried to get her attention, to no avail, so I just listened.

There was nothing exciting, just two people having a casual conversation, but it was nice to hear her voice.

After about five minutes I hung up, then I used the sweet little app I created called btext.org to write this post and email it to myself, for posting when I got home.

I guess I have an affinity for dead end streets. Back in the late eighties I lived on a small street that ran up a hill from Lake Merritt in Oakland CA.

I was in a three story apartment on the second floor, looking down on to the street, with my computer monitor in front of the window.

I think the house across the street belonged to the famous Hells Angels boss, Sonny Barger. The biker parties were epic, hundreds of bikes and colorful jackets.

I researched Sonny, who was based in Oakland, and discovered he might have been in prison around that time. So it may have been one of his high ranking chiefs, or him. I never got invited to a party, but they were fun neighbors.

I also had a major drug dealer living above me. Tall, well dressed black men in top coats were always coming and going on the steps in the hallway outside my door, carrying stylish bags.

The nearest bar was gay and the bartenders name was Suzy. He liked me, always hitting on me, and failing. But when money was tight, he would always run me a tab until I had some.

So that was one of my lives, in the years prior to moving to the Seattle area...

btw: Sonny Barger died on June 29th last year at the age of 83. He told fans to stand tall, stay loyal, remain free, and always value honor!

Now that I look at this picture, yea that was my neighbor, talked to him a few times.

It's catching up with me. I'm having problems walking lately, my legs feel weak, like they're about to crumble underneath me. I did a little research on liver cirrhosis and walking, and sure enough, they are related.

It all makes sense now, the blood doctor examining my torso and ordering an ultrasound.

I'm facing two options here: lifestyle changes and hope for the best, or fuck it all and live crazy until I can't. Not being able to walk would certainly complicate either option.

I always sit on the curb at the park for feedings, and lately I'm having a hard time standing back up. It would be comical if one day I wasn't able to, and had to flag a ranger down for a helping hand!

Oh well, I'll find out on the fifteenth...

I realize that blogging has become an avenue for defining my life, confessing my sins, and reliving my accomplishments and failures. I guess I could have written a book instead, but...

Writing about things in your past is helpful in understanding your present. During my life I have often become offended at something, and then reacted in a spiteful way. The reason I'm here in Tennessee was because of that. The reason Steph's family is not in my life, is because of that.

Today I had a memory of an incident in High School. I used to sing, I have a deep voice and I was pretty good. The Paradise, CA Chamber of Commerce hired me, a buddy and two young ladies to walk around one Christmas in costume, singing carols around town.

But the incident occurred while performing in choir to a large gathering at the school. I got pissed at something, no clue what, and my reaction was to sing everything loud and out of tune. I'm sure I ruined the performance.

That was my pattern in High School. One year I was forced to join the wrestling team if I wanted to continue track and field. It pissed me off so I started wrestling dirty, hurting kids, and the coach finally shook his head and said get out.

The teachers considered me stupid, because I was bored. One day I did a book report and presented it to my English class. The teacher accused me of plagiarizing it, not believing that I could write. I told her fuck you and dropped out of school. Finished up at night school down in Chico.

Years later I graduated at the top of my class at Merritt College in Oakland.

So I see this pattern in my life, and I'm really sorry that I react this way. You can't go back and fix mistakes, but you can learn from them, and try to do better the next time.

I spent this cold Tennessee day, tweaking code in my Kwackd app. I really wanted to embed YouTube videos into my popup code, the stuff I use for my maps.

YouTube don't like their videos wrapped up into a frame, but they do allow individual videos to be framed if you play by their complicated rules. They would much rather present their whole site to you as a link so they can advertise.

I got it working on my Windows 11 laptop, but my phone and tablet are resisting. I don't know if it's a cache issue or what, but you can help me out by going to Kwackd, select the Videos menu option and click the Test option at the bottom of the list.

It should open the video in a fullscreen content box. If not, let me know... Thanks!

I was chatting with Steph on the phone this afternoon, as she fueled up at McDonald's for a night shift at the Dollar General. She said she won the employee of the month award for the region, a nice gift basket and a weekend off.

We reminisced about the time back in 1997, twenty six years ago, when I won the very first Employee Of The Year award with the largest ParaTransit outfit on the West Coast, ATC/VanCom. It was a great honor and ultimately earned me the lead supervisor position.

Steph was the front office receptionist and that's where everything started. She told me today that I got pissed off somewhere, sometime, and threw that award in the trash. She talked me down from that, and I still have it today.

Do you realize that I dragged myself up from a homeless ex software genius, washing dishes at a hotel for years, to get to this point? Life is amazing, and I am grateful!

I remember a day in San Francisco, when I was a young man. I was hitch hiking around and ended up down at Playland At The Beach. It was an amusement park down on the water that had big animated clowns and shit.

I don't remember much about that night, but I do know that as I was walking down the steps to the ocean, hundreds of giant rats came rushing up from the beach, and swarmed around my feet, towards the street.

I spent the night sleeping up in the woods overlooking the attraction at the curve of the road.

What a strange memory to pop up in my brain. It really defines my troubled young life. I think it all went south when I turned sixteen. A step dad that didn't give a shit, school sucked, a president shot, riots in the street.

What the hell was I doing in San Francisco?

I piss and moan about my life a lot. It's what I do. Maybe I'm looking for sympathy, or help, or maybe not. I really don't see a solution to my issues on the horizon, so it's all just babbling nonsense.

But I am grateful for what I have:

 • A reliable vehicle with new tires.

 • A good independent roof over my head. Not some fucking apartment with people above and below me.

 • A gas heater to warm it up.

 • A fridge, a stove, an air fryer, to provide food.

 • A good bed, a giant TV, and computers to type this shit.

I'm really envious of the man who can meet a woman, fall in love forever, raise a family, have a solid career, and die with a large funeral procession.

But hey, I'm still alive until I ain't, and I'm grateful for that. I have had amazing adventures, loved deeply, fucked up badly, and I'm still here!

I guess writing code takes a toll on my body these days. I stayed up late and slept in late this morning, to 0730. Considering I normally get up at 0400, and at the boat dock by 0815, that's really late for me.

What the hell does it matter I suppose. No job, no partner, no life.

I've been driving by this skeleton every morning lately and finally stopped to check it out. Looks like a deer. How sad to be struck by a car and left to rot by the side of the road.

I wonder if it had a partner, a mom or a dad. I believe that animals grieve, they are not different than us in that regard. They just don't have the ability to express it to our dominant race.

I'm not going to bury the poor animal, I'll just watch it decompose over time. Although, I count my ducks every morning, and would grieve if one went missing.