Are possums born dead by the roadside?
Possums are not the smartest creatures God ever made, like my late uncle,
Raymond. They like to play dead by the side of the road, like my late
uncle, Raymond. Sometimes they get hit by a car and are truly dead like my
late uncle, Raymond.
I have a "job" with all the toys; cell phone, alpha-pager and ThinkPad. I
have a brand new VW Cabrio and a killer wardrobe. But, how come I can't
find a grrlll?
A good grill is not an easy thing to come by. You have so many choices.
The major choice is charcoal or gas. The last grill I bought was in 1976.
We were preparing for the Bicentennial of our great country when the Weber
that I picked up as my reward for being Safest Employee at the plant rusted
completely through leaving a big mess of charcoal in the breezeway. I'd
just put a new coat of grey paint on the concrete and it got ruined
immediately. I never wanted to paint the concrete because I like the way
that natural concrete looks. "It's a good color gray on it's own." That's
what I told my late wife at the time. But she wouldn't listen and made me
go down to the True Value with a paint chip so I could match the breezeway
color to the shutter color. We put those damn shutters on the house and
they didn't even work. They were just for show. I never understood why
you'd want to have shutters that didn't shut. That just goes against
nature. But the Stevens down the street got some. So my late wife just had
to have her own for our house. She always wanted to get whatever everyone
else had. I didn't want to have any part of that. I just liked to sit in
that breezeway at night in the summer and watch the bug zapper kill
mosquitos. Sometimes if we were lucky a moth would get in there, too.
I worked on my web page all day and it still doesn't look good
What should I do?
I never understood the point of having a web page. People like to tell
stories on their web pages. Me? I'd rather hear somebody tell me a story
rather than read about it on the internet. Unless that Charles Kuralt was
telling them. He was a master at the storytelling. I got to meet him once
when he came through town to interview the people who had the chicken who
danced to Elvis songs. He was nice enough. Though, I never did understand
why he kept driving that Winnebago around. It would've been cheaper for
him to drive a car and rent a hotel room at night. I mentioned that to him
and asked him about gas mileage. He told me he got 8 miles to the gallon
which was not much even in those days. Now, with gas being so expensive I
imagine that his boss wouldn't let him drive around like that.
Sherman T. Biswick