|Date:||Fri, 22 Jun 2012 03:22:45 +0000|
|Description:||There's no such thing as a part-time Hot Air Balloon Factory.
Please, Alan, just ask your father for a job with the lathing machine.|
|Date:||Thu, 21 Jun 2012 03:52:58 +0000|
|Description:||Coming up on the annual Great Lifting of the Lake event. I know you don’t know about this event – this tradition – so I’m going to tell you about it. Press “Record” now.
This event of lifting up all the lake water out of the lake started many decades ago. A local man by the name of Roger Rodgers Rogeré thought himself quite the scientist-inventor-spiritualist-banker-no-account-roofer-and-family-man.
Rodgers (or Roger) was spoken of all up and down the midwest puddle basin for his accomplishments in circling and highlighting. There wasn’t a text dense or deep enough for old Rodgers. In no time, he’d focus in on the key ideas of a paper and underline or lightly shade or otherwise draw attention to them using marking marks or Indian pens in a clear, neat, scientifically EVEN manner while in no way disturbing, demoting or discoloring the surrounding words and picture sticks.
This made him a very wealthy man.
And with this wealth – wealth he made primarily from circling all the merciful words in a great giant pile of bibles – with this wealth Old Rodgers Rogeré would cage up little stuffed animals from the fair and sink them out in the lake.
By the thousands.
They only problem the locals had was the constant shortage of little metal cages. The cages did and continue to make such wonderful centerpieces and conversation starters. People around here are distant and secretive by nature. Anything that draws them out and gets them relating on any level beyond shrieks and glares is welcome. Keeps them human.
And here old Rodgers is dumping these little cages into the lake. On Sunday mornings. Yes. You understand. And so a compromise was in order. Oh they wouldn’t call it that today. They’d say Old Rodgers was just out Creating Jobs. But we know. We understand.
Using a combination of ropes and moon gravity and magic, Rodgers Roger managed to lift up all the water of Lake St Clair – all at once – for 20 minutes. It made the Canadians faint. But it was more than enough time for the Scout Troops to run out and collect all the little cages (strangling any surviving occupants) and deliver them to local curio shops and year-round garage sales.
Rogers would replace the last drop of lake water just as federal agents arrived with their notebooks and their questions.
Then Rodgers died.
So now, each year at this time, we honor him with our annual Great Lifting of the Lake event. It’s primarily done now with a lot of buckets but the effect is the same. It takes about three weeks and nobody gets paid. You find a lot of guns this way. And old car batteries. And angry Snake People. But it’s worth it.
Rodgers’ cages made this town sociable. Gave them back a way to break the ice. To fill the gaps. To misdirect anger and bad feelings towards.
Rodgers made it so Fathers could speak to Sons, Mothers to Daughters. Made this town friendly. Made it worth a stop. And a soup. You look forward to listening to your neighbor go on and on about his back because you know he’ll listen to you, damnit. We learned to care here.
It was Roger Rodgers Rogeré that taught us.
Alright enough. |
|Date:||Wed, 20 Jun 2012 05:29:30 +0000|
|Description:||We do these things because they make us feel good. They reassure us. These acts require little paint and even less metal sanding. We can sit back, regulate our breathing and observe the framed Extended Stay Hotel lobby paintings as carried by moonlighting cafeteria workers while giving little to no feedback.
|Date:||Tue, 19 Jun 2012 06:27:13 +0000|
|Description:||The various Middle-Aged White Men Groups around town gathered last week to admire each other’s stomachs and choose a new ethnic group’s name to begin egregiously mispronouncing in their speeches and prayer circles this Fall.
After much debate, the association settled upon the kangaroo. |
|Date:||Mon, 18 Jun 2012 03:54:56 +0000|
|Description:||With the demise of printed encyclopedias comes additional forms of lawlessness. The preponderance of ostriches and other exotic birds being kept as pets is new. Some are being welcomed into the home and included in family portraits. Car fires are left burning often for weeks at a time. Magazine racks are found in total disarray. Covers folded back, subscription cards cover the floor. Many of them are half filled in with obvious fake names and lurid addresses. Pencils sit unsharpened, a nuisance to themselves and others. The Pope has taken a bride.
With only the internet’s abundance of crude flash animations of beloved pop culture figures debasing themselves, we are a people adrift. Just having the encyclopedia’s extra index volume’s explanation of punctuation form and usage encourages reasonable bed times. Instead each day brings new word of brush fires engulfing our major cities and astronauts being called back into service to wrestle each other at county fairs.
We simply cannot get our bearings in this new paperless world. All one can do is hold ones breath around computers so as to not breathe in their secret, poison electric waves and hope Santa gets this letter.
|Date:||Sun, 17 Jun 2012 03:36:32 +0000|
|Description:||Fascist Insane Asylum with ice cream. |
|Date:||Fri, 15 Jun 2012 04:31:39 +0000|
|Description:||Never believe anything you read here about coupons, discounts or special offers.
I do not have the authority to grant such enticements. |
|Date:||Thu, 14 Jun 2012 04:55:40 +0000|
|Description:||I often think about those ready-to-bake crescent rolls and dinner biscuits sold in your grocer’s refrigerated section. They come in paper tubes. Little strips and wads of raw dough are tightly packed into these tubes. A simple twist and POP! the tube splits open, dough erupts in all directions.
I think about this mechanism, the concept behind it, the sense of power it gives you.
And then I think about all the evolutionary twists and turns, blind alleys, reversals, loops and circles that humans, and life itself, really, had to make for a need for such food tools to arise. Kings deciding who lives and who dies. Oceans roiling and splitting. Mass extinctions, amassing.
And I think: all of it – all of it – lead us up to this point.
And I shudder.
|Date:||Wed, 13 Jun 2012 04:48:54 +0000|
|Description:||The electronic boot is making a comeback. The new ones have both front and side zippers. They come in Neon Gray and Yellow Yellow. Your daddy’d wear them, but he’d never admit it.
That is all. |
|Date:||Tue, 12 Jun 2012 05:23:46 +0000|
|Description:||Humans put far too much trust in paper placemat activity designers. No, really, statistics bear this out. If you’re alert you’ll notice that contemporary Word Search sections feature blocks of nothing but the letter “F” and Spot the Difference games single out cartoon turtles with fringe political sympathies, at least in the earliest stages. |
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