~Listening/watching a Sade DVD while typing out an entry is one of life�s great things. Classy woman with midriff showing and lyrics drenched in honey. God.

~We have no cable TV in our bedroom. I know that to a small hungry person in Somalia, that might seem to be pretty much low on the farking tree, but I fixed it by throwing money at a second (third?) DVD player and sticking rabbit ears on it. Now I can watch Walter Matthau and the local news.

~Also, you just know you need rabbit ears out in the garage for the cast-off TV there. Done. Extra refrigerator and icemaker for garage? Also done. In terms of preparing for football season, I�ve done pretty much all I can do. My needs, and sense of preparing for disasters, seem to revolve solely around entertainment for the portly.

~Selling off pieces of a company that you built up from absolutely nothing is the absolute opposite of watching Sade on a DVD. But it does give a sense of wretched and awful pride, in some twisted way. Damn, we were good. Whoops, there goes the box truck.

~I don�t know of anyone online whose writing I admire more on a day to day basis than Pam. And because of her gift, she can describe exactly what me and probably every married person has gone through and make it seem like it just happened yesterday. Or might happen tomorrow. Then she can do the diary equivalent of clearing her throat and tightening your own. Honey, sometimes there aren�t words. In 25 years of married life I haven�t figured out any precise solution, and am woefully inadequate to offer advice when you�re hurting in that way. That is a hurt nested in long nights without a hand to hold, and dammit it isn�t right. Good times, bad times. You get tested every day, and nobody grades it out. Not ever.

~Right or wrong, standing tall never seems to matter much when you�re dealing with broken hearts and the mending is over there, on a hill with rising water and a terrible price tag. It isn�t the sort of fixing that MTV has in mind.

~Ally wants one of these. I can�t say as I disagree. Although, in the middle of winter, where the hell do you go to plant feet on a bar rail and elbows on oak and toss peanuts at the barkeep? Where indeed?

~I�ve discovered that, by working 8 days out of the month, I can generally count on making enough money to cover expenses. I need to update my tackle box and re-rig a bait caster or two. There�s bass out there and they crave my immediate attention.

~Although it�s so hot they might have to crave until flannel shirts are more apropo.

~Sade just made her diaphragm do a six-pack wave roll. And she�s barefoot!

~Never, ever let me loose in a discount music store that has a small but eclectic selection of pre-packaged discs promising enlightenment via an audio system. Not ever. It is the Outfoxed equivalent of settling William Faulkner into a jon-boat with a fine pen and six reams of linen backed bond. In Yalobusha County. In August.

~I don�t think there�s any skill less appreciated than being able to sharpen something that needs to be sharp. Knives, chisels . . . whatever. I was taught how by some old men who figured that since my skills with a broom were at their zenith, surely I ought to learn something worthwhile. And I did, and haven�t found much of anything more valuable since.

~When leaning over a sheet of material making pencil marks for immediate cutting with a powered instrument, it is best to remember that your chin is dripping water in the swell of a triple digit heat index, and to move your face to the left about six inches. Makes for clearer reference points, is what I�m saying.

~When using second person plural pronouns, it is imperative to know how to do the Southern inclusive of you all. It is spelled y�all, folks. And if you don�t know that, I�m withholding the grits with gravy I had set aside for you tomorrow morning. Things like this drive me insane.

~If I were to switch over to the Grateful Dead right about now, would anyone other that Sade know it? My saccharine level is pegging the meter, here.

~Maggie�s car is in the shop getting some minor surgery, and has therefore inherited Ally�s big ride. Which, in another therefore, means that Ally�s transportation is dependent solely on yours truly. And when Ally sez �Oh, just pick me up between 4:30 and 5, you know . . .� it damn surely means not one instant past 4:30. Did I mention I�ve been doing this for 25 years?

~I�m almost certain that I did.

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