We had cake today. Celebrate another year without al co hol. I remember I told Rusty when I fell off the wagon, and he didn't blink. Well. What was he supposed to do? Play a funeral march? Scream the Sky is Falling? I, not so quietly pulled myself back up and resumed. I was flawed. This happened right before he passed away, too. He gave me the keys, then he left. The men who have the keys have flaws and don't ever think they don't. I fired the Model 58 41 mag into the sky, from the trees and rocks, and never once did I see a single bullet come down, but I know he sees the commotions and events down here.
I'm writing this today because he'd like it, he liked his Hawiian shirts. And when you were as ugly as Rusty you could wear a shirt like that with pazaazz, with balance, even grace.
"But, I'll never be able to wear another Hawiian shirt because that Fellow that bothers me so much wears them all the time and he's ruined it."
I laughed and laughed. Get out. Rusty was being silly; but I wondered if he ever did wear another Island shirt again? Oversized cotton shirts like that are good in the desert, too, just the kind you want. You know, I'm not sure he did.
Somewhere along the observation of the Earth during my stay, I recall Dad got a new shirt. That seemed strange to me. Why bother? What's wrong with the tarp we threw over him last Winter? Put a new shirt on that Old Guy? Bright colors too. Seems like a waste. Coulda bought a CD with the money, if we were in charge.....
Dad actually seemed to take a quicker step with a new shirt on. Some energy came to him. His voice changed. They were going out, he had a new shirt under the hot Tuscon Sky, and everybody would be fed. My Parents did that a lot. Gather up whoever is in the yard and feed them.
I got a New Shirt today; a K Mart shirt, a Large. Normally, I get extra large- as tarp-like as I can get away with, and overseas, 'large' cotton shrinks pretty medium. I'm wearing it now and it fits. Strange. I saw a look in my small boy's eyes; they noted change too. Give the Old Dad a Shirt; and we all had a peice of cake while the snow outside just keeps coming. 8" now.
Something old, something new, something borrowed.
I looked in the mirror at the shirt my wife gave to me. I saw my arms were about the same size as they'd been when I was 24, but there was a mixture of substance that was neither skin nor muscle in places where sinew used to reside. I don't know what to call the stuff. It's not skin, not muscle; skussule. My waist also has some underground styrofoam I may have to work out. Funny how you still fit your clothes, but not in the same way.
munk
I'm writing this today because he'd like it, he liked his Hawiian shirts. And when you were as ugly as Rusty you could wear a shirt like that with pazaazz, with balance, even grace.
"But, I'll never be able to wear another Hawiian shirt because that Fellow that bothers me so much wears them all the time and he's ruined it."
I laughed and laughed. Get out. Rusty was being silly; but I wondered if he ever did wear another Island shirt again? Oversized cotton shirts like that are good in the desert, too, just the kind you want. You know, I'm not sure he did.
Somewhere along the observation of the Earth during my stay, I recall Dad got a new shirt. That seemed strange to me. Why bother? What's wrong with the tarp we threw over him last Winter? Put a new shirt on that Old Guy? Bright colors too. Seems like a waste. Coulda bought a CD with the money, if we were in charge.....
Dad actually seemed to take a quicker step with a new shirt on. Some energy came to him. His voice changed. They were going out, he had a new shirt under the hot Tuscon Sky, and everybody would be fed. My Parents did that a lot. Gather up whoever is in the yard and feed them.
I got a New Shirt today; a K Mart shirt, a Large. Normally, I get extra large- as tarp-like as I can get away with, and overseas, 'large' cotton shrinks pretty medium. I'm wearing it now and it fits. Strange. I saw a look in my small boy's eyes; they noted change too. Give the Old Dad a Shirt; and we all had a peice of cake while the snow outside just keeps coming. 8" now.
Something old, something new, something borrowed.
I looked in the mirror at the shirt my wife gave to me. I saw my arms were about the same size as they'd been when I was 24, but there was a mixture of substance that was neither skin nor muscle in places where sinew used to reside. I don't know what to call the stuff. It's not skin, not muscle; skussule. My waist also has some underground styrofoam I may have to work out. Funny how you still fit your clothes, but not in the same way.
munk
