Stationary Unicycle

The other day the kids are I were walking. We passed by a small group sitting in a small yard in front of a small house. They appeared to be enjoying the effects of  more than a few beers. They were sitting in a semi-circle, two skinny scruffy dudes with regrettably unbuttoned shirts and un-regrettably buttoned pants and a large woman in a tight tank top and shorts, a shiny tan, a perm and a cigarette. They were sitting in those cheap white plastic chairs you can buy at the Walgreen's. The chairs with the thin legs that feel as though they will bend or break if you so much as shift your weight or fart. The chairs you see on their backs by the side of the road  road on garbage day with three legs in the right places and a jagged stump where the fourth had been until Jimmy wiggled in his seat trying to dislodge a wedgie.  One of the scruffy men was carefully speaking in a slow motion slur that sounded raw and sore like a rug burn. This is what he said; "They rolllll...

The other day I was walking downtown, I was in a hurry. While crossing the little bridge over the stream, I saw a family of ducks swimming around. A young mom and her two little kids were walking by, they looked to be in a hurry, they didn't look particularly happy but I took a chance and said, hey! did you see the ducks swimming in the stream? And they said, huh? And I pointed at the swimmy ducks and the mom and kids said, "Awww....how CUTE!!" and the little kids laughed and the mom thanked me and it was sweet and I'm glad I took a chance; I could have been mistaken for a weirdo but wasn't and ducks! Yeah. Today I was in a hurry again, I seem to be in a hurry always, and yet I took a moment to stand on the bridge and look at the ducks. The babies are getting bigger and soon they'll move out, go to college, get jobs, and tattoos and beak grommets or whatever, and so I'm glad I took a moment out of my crazy day to look and see the ducks while they...

I haven't written in a long time. Facebook updates, no matter how quirky, cute, droll or witty do not count as writing. My facebook posts have not been particularly quirky, cute, droll or witty, but pathetic attempts to reach out to humanity, passive aggressive entreaties for comfort, compassion and money. Kidding about that money part. I've been a little blue. I've said it before and I'll likely say it again and again, depression is a fuck...a bad fuck. Some of the sad is due to sad things happening in the world, in the bigger world  (right wing nut bags, right wing nut bags with guns) and in my own small world; my mom is ill and I've been trying to take care of her and my kids, my marriage, my house, my dog, my lawn, my garden, my hopes dreams aspirations and sanity. I haven't talked about it publicly, but my dad is ill. Very ill. It appears my parents might both be gearing up to depart this earthly plane soon. It's just a matter of time and stubbornness...