I Will Survive!

Go ahead, scrape me off your shoe, I can take it! I got along without you before I met you, I can do it again now!

TOO MUCH

(Dedicated to some I knew, whether male or female) What would I do if somebody called And said you were dead? There’s accidents all around And plenty of diseases that go unbound, Not to mention mordant murders That come to us, that deeply strive, Out of the soft sweet blue— It could happen, but. What would I do then? I’ve never thought of you like that, As less than alive, Though I expect it of myself. How long would it take for me to cry, I wonder? Would it be one minute or five? It wouldn’t matter much when I started When the real problem would be, When would such sorrow ever end? Could I forget you, or forget to grieve? It doesn’t seem so; I guess that’s why I’ve never thought of it. It’s too much to ever bear— A death that would end the world, yet never end! We’ve known each other all these days, Tattered decades gone by now— So young when we met, Almost elegant then, compared to now, And sometimes even yet in remembrance Each thinks such beauty of the other, Though we may seem so awkward, Maybe even graceless, to ourselves— Good gracious, ring the bells, Our health much gone to hell, Whether we only feel it in the nerve Or in our backs Or it shows somehow in our drooping flesh, Whether it’s by many ways or only one. It hardly matters to any but ourselves Because it’s just a hard-luck story And so hard to keep track of— Everyone grows old, except those who don't! But I know, I mean I don’t know, What would I do if that long-distance call came for me And somebody said you were dead? Would I not soon regret Everything? Such death could not be borne.

This poem may or may not continue to be revised; if you only read it once, that may be enough for you. Still, some revisions will occur without warning. You know a poem is pretty good when it makes you weep before you can finish it--ain't poetry grand? Ain't poets crazy?

So Weird

I don't care if I am an Old Fart these days. I might lose half my friends for saying this, but I am glad that LOL is a phrase that is always abbreviated. I say that because it's such a goddamn stupid and uninspired kind of remark that I figure it's better to not spell it out and to get it over with as quickly as possible! What kind of moron thinks it is shorter to type "LOL" than to type "HA"? Why do you all have to be so weird? There, now I've lost the other half of the people I know. Well, WTF do I care?

Blinded By The Light?

On January 18 in the post, HOBGOBLINS, I worried whether I'd ever remember to replace the bulb for my bedroom night light. Praise Gosh, It's just the kind of bulb we all used to use in the "big" Xmas tree strings, though it's not colored, and it fits in the bottom portion of a regular lamp. I finally remembered the other day! I had to buy a package of four of the tiny buggers, but it was less than $3. It's great to have the night-light back. Though I have a lot of flashlights, I no longer need to hunt one up in the middle of the night or to knock over lamps as I grope around blindly--I am a free man again! After six months or more, I also remembered to buy a small weird bulb for the microwave oven. Now I need not cook (okay, heat) in darkness! Note to myself: 40 watts seems awfully bright, but I couldn't find one that was smaller! Search harder, if there's ever a next time, dummy! In yet more related piss-ant news about light, I now realize that the pair of Ray-o-vac LED Flashlights that I bought some months ago and have used with frequency are now old enough for me to conclude that they are handy and trustworthy devices! They were five bucks or less each at the Super Wal-Mart store of my choice, the only place I ever shop because I'm a cheap bastard. They have a slightly blueish light, but I would expect to spend more money for perfection. Their claim to last 100 hours seems to at least be near the mark--who ever times these flashlights, anyway?! But if I can pick it up and use one more than a hundred times, I consider that "a long time". That's my testimonial, and I hope my entry into Paradise does not hinge on the accuracy of it.

Fussbudget

Yeah, I'd forgotten about "fussbudget"! That would be a good thing to call someone that I was in some sort of conflict with! Too bad, though, I can't think of anyone that it applies to just now. Except the obvious--guess I'll have to use the mirror.

Unwilling To Fuss!

That's a good title. I can't decide if it should be a post title, blog title, or if I should just paint it on my front door! I'd put it on my forehead, but that would be too much of a fuss!

Backup Or Copy Your Blog With Export/Import Function

It's been a long time since I said much about Blogger over here (as opposed to what's in my "Most Frequent Blogger Questions". Blogger has been working with this new feature in their "Blogger in draft", but now the feature, "Export/Import" is available in YOUR blog (if you have the orange icon). For many of us, it may still be "new", but in any case this is an advance. Go to your Settings (Basic) and the first item now is called "Blog Tools". Here you'll find the option to Delete your blog or to Export it or to Import to it. Essentially, the Export function will make copies of all your posts and comments to an xml file (perhaps on your hard drive, NOT directly to another blog). When that's done, you can open the destination blog where you want those copies and you will Import those posts you exported. (The xml file will still exist unless you delete that file.) It's a nice way to have a complete copy or backup of your blog posts on your own location, not just on Blogger's servers. It IS a blog, but since it didn't copy the template from the source (or original blog), your backup will have to use whatever template you can select these days, though of course you can polish it up if that's what you want. It's a real template in a real blog, but it's the text (posts and comments and pix that were copied. Page elements (Gadgets) went to hell and most will have to be replaced if that's how perfect you want your backup. I wrote slightly more information and the steps required for Export/Import at this MFBQ post, Can I Save My Blog? Notes may be added to this or the MFBQ post as I experience it more, so if you delay trying it out, check out my instructions again at that time! (I always improve after I revise stuff 20 or 30 times!)

Where I'm Coming From?!

Readers at TRS may have to wash their hands when they leave, but that's okay--like some other vices, I'm a habit that must be cultivated.

Call Me

Call me lazy, call me crazy, but this is a nice thing. You can rub it all over yourself without incident! Wonderful Thing

Secrets

It seems I've lost all my friends sometimes, But that's not surprising, Seeing that I make so little effort To keep them all fat and happy. Besides, I lost a lot of them a long time ago. I guess I've even lost A large percentage of my Internet Friends, If it matters— Those crazy dynamic souls— I accumulated at long distances, Yet near I nearly reeled in them like a drunk... Since I began to blog And to creep about these creative blogs Where everyone represents the self alone In a strange way, supercharged and fierce each one..., Has it only been a few years since we began? I suppose that loss isn't surprising, either, Since they were all strangers to begin with, Though at times they were numerous and touching. There were probably never more Than twenty followers at any one time And I think the number's been dwindling Down to five or six for a long time. So What if I rise up and look down And say, "Fuck y'all!", Aside from committing a regionalism, Will I also finally Burn the ass or scorch the soul Of the last loopy loony hanger-on? Oh, well... It's not that there's no way for me to know all that, But it's been a long time Since I haunted my own site meter In an effort to see if old acquaintances Have been to visit me secretly! So, which came first, brothers and sisters, The "I don't care" or the "I don't know"? Y'know, it's not that I don't keep any secrets, But I don't think I share a single one Anywhere, with anyone, any more...

Words From on High About Afterthoughts

STUPID BLOGGER!

While answering questions in Blogger Help Group (BHG) just now, I was thinking about all the treasure or credit I must be piling up in heaven or whatever you call the after-life, until it dawned on me that there's probably not all that much credit involved! It's true that I do this crap for free and that there are many who benefit from it, but I reckon that God knows as well as I do that I'm egotistical and thoroughly getting off on knowing the answers and showing off for this small part of the world! Besides, I know some experts who make me feel like a beginner or a brain-damaged klutz! Not to mention that there's a level of info revealed by an occasional question that I don't even recognize as the milieu in which I've been swimming--then I realize I could easily drown, so I pretend I didn't see THAT question! Maybe it IS a narrow world of Bloggers, but the world is so big that you could probably take that dismissive tone with most things--politics, show business, religions--every one of them is a narrow world that still does not contain the majority of the earth's inhabitants! You and I are all just afterthoughts to most people in the world! We're all just an accident of karma or timing. We make the planet feel crowded and don't even feel guilty about it.

I've done that!

Niels Bohr: "An expert is a person who has made all the mistakes that can be made in a very narrow field."

No Further Use

No Further Use Being Frank
Look around, there ain't No further use being Frank Zappa Or Frank Sinatra, either. Or Gabby Hayes or William Boyd, Or Bobby Dan Shapiro—whoever he is! As Grateful Dead might say, Whether the Beatles are dead or not, What a long strange trip it's been! (And I ain't won no prizes for it yet, Champ, and wasn't too pretty, either!)

Not As Good As I Used To Be

If you're a new fan here and don't want to read all 1800 posts, I suggest that after you read the most recent ones, you click on the label for Pretty Good! I hate to admit it, but many of my best posts were written pretty far back. I guess I've been falling apart for years, and I wish it wasn't so, but here I am and I'm not as good as I used to be!!! You can check out the Pretty-Goods here.

Go On, Rub It In!

I may be stiff-backed, But what would be wrong with a little stiffie And maybe a little soft poon (or was that porn?) To go along with it??? Things sneak up on us Without even being very subtle, Not to mention that things sneak away from us, too, Unbuttered, unkept, and uncouth— And that's the worst of all. It's bad enough to keep losing track of old friends Without all of them declining to rub it in anymore!

Who Said Dat?!

"The rat may squeak, but he never hides!"

Most Erotic Blog Post Ever Peddled!

Besides, It's Free
This isn't really the most erotic blog post ever; I just thought I'd see who was awake this sleepy Wednesday. If this isn't February 4, I guess you weren't.

World War Whut?!

Albert Einstein: "I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones."

Old Bloggers Never Die

(They Just Start To Smell That Way)

I don't know how often I get nostalgic--every six months, every two years--about various periods of my blogging over the past six years and the different people who have shuffled through each. There's hardly anyone who's lasted from the beginning since I have always been pretty quick to decide that some people were no longer my cup of tea. Of course, that's not to say that I didn't bore the shit out of some blogger pals and get "dumped" myself! It would be pointless to name names (or blog names), so I won't. It's just interesting that things have kept changing. There have been so many incarnations of my blog, of my cohabitors on the Internet, that the blog world seems almost more varied than my life--well, thank God that's not quite true. I never check the details of my counter any more, so it's possible that some of the old blog crowd still check up on me from time to time, but I doubt it. It's odd that I do, though, since I myself have silently gone to some of those sites and looked around--like driving past some old house or neighborhood where you used to live--one barely brakes, just slow down for a glance and keep on going.

Dead Boredom

This Time Again
There's only so long left tonight Before it's time to sleep And not so many hours left then That it seems like a very long time (No, it won't be long!) Before it's time to wake again And trudge through another day Of dreams and dread, Another folly and fallen midnight, And all in ever bright or blighted schemes, Until it's about This Time Again And we start all over in doubt and bed.