Posts

It's A Mean Old Me

I was in the kitchen sitting at the island. Reading the morning newspaper, disagreeing with everything the local Dear Blabby had to say (her answers are a little too politically correct for my taste), and enjoying my noon coffee. I had the dimmer switch to the lights set on low. As usual, I was listening to the blues on the TV in the den. I love the blues. Especially  Mean Old World , which was playing, one of my favorite songs. Maybe I like the song so much because I like the title so much. It  is  a mean old world. You only have to follow the news to realize it. This version is by Little Walter and His Night Cats. I prefer the song by T-Bone Walker. Maybe, like George Constanza, I just like the name T-Bone. There may be a dozen other songs called  Mean Old World,  but those are the only two I know of. In a way, the blues have ruined my appreciation for the music I grew up listening to in the sixties and seventies. When I first began listening to Eric Clapton o...

Funny Shades of Grey--chapter twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-Five    " Now can we talk, Ana?"   "Sorry, mom," I say. "Gotta go."    I make my way to the bus stop, although "bus stop" is a bit of a misnomer. The city of El Paso is building a trolley system it doesn't need for people who don't want it. Today, however, it comes in handy.   I sit on the bench and wait for the trolley to make its stop. And I wait. And I wait. I don't know what's taking so long.   "It's because the trolley system is still under construction, as in 'not finished yet,'" Christian informs me when I write him on my DingleBerry to complain.   And then he writes:   Stay where you are. I'll send Crockett right over.     And I write back:   But I don't know where I'm at.     "Not a problem," Christian tells me, and then signs off.   Well, I guess I'll be here for an even longer while than I've already been here already. There's no way...