random neural firings............

I'm just going to run off at the head for a while. I've been jotting little things down for the past couple of days, and now I've got all these assorted, scribbled on bar napkins scattered around every where.........so, it's either write something or start baling them.

I took another excursion to Peoria Thursday and as I drove from my appointment to Barnes and Noble (do we see a pattern forming here?),I happened to fall into traffic behind one of Peoria's new motorcycle policemen. As we sat and waited for the light at the intersection of Knoxville and War Memorial Drive, I noticed his license plate frame. It said, "Smile, I could be behind you!" I cracked up! When I stopped chortling, I stuck my head out of my window and shouted up at him that I liked his license plate. He turned around and grinned and gave me a wave.

Some darling lady recently made the mistake of telling me how pretty my handwriting was. This, of course, went straight to my head. I went out and bought a medium tipped calligraphy fountain pen and dug deep for excuses to write more letters. I've been an essential non-correspondent for over 25 years and now, all of a sudden, I want to write everyone in the world. I had spotted a beginner's calligraphy pen set at B & N on my previous trip to the big town and, after mulling over it for a day or so, decided I just HAD to have it. Now I have this overwhelming urge to copy the King James version of the Bible in longhand and send it to someone who thinks of themselves as the voice of God on earth like the Pope, or Pat Robertson, or Rush Limbaugh.........or re-copy the works of Shakespeare and send it to V. C. Andrews or Danielle Steele. You've created a monster Emmy Lou.

I also, of course, found a book or two........(you didn't really think i was going to get in and out of Barnes and Noble without buying a book did you??) I spotted a paper back entitled "I Love Everybody (and other atrocious lies)" and subtitled "true tales of a loudmouth girl"............I mean, peepul, I think I know this woman!! (figuratively speaking).........it is by Laurie Notaro and though I know nothing about her I had a good feeling about the book. I got "Who Were the Celts" (to feed my fascination with the Irish and all things Irish)............I dont know if it is good history or not but it was cheap and not too formidably thick, so what the hell. Also cheap (and more than likely an excercise in farcical speculation on the part of a hack masquerading as an historian), was "Freemasonry and the Birth of Modern Science".........I am a Freemason, twice Past-Master of my lodge and have an abiding interest in things that pertain to Freemasonry. I am also an auto-didactical life-time student of History.........and god-damned picky (and a fair authority) concerning what is good writing in that genre. I'll let you know.............and, someday, when I'm up to it, probably address Freemasonry (in more detail than you ever wanted) in a future entry.

Over the past three years, it has become somewhat of a Father's day tradition to attend the Olde English Faire. My daughter is tied up with work all weekend, but Thursday my son IM'ed me to see if I wanted to go. I had planned to contact him, but was delighted that he thought of it first. So, tomorrow I will pick up Cheyenne from my former spouse (shudder) at 9:30am and Casey, Diane and my other little sweety pie grand-daughter Hallie will meet me out there. It plagues me so that they live so far away............my son is my little boy and a solid and enviably good man, his partner is a sweetheart and a lady that I like and love very much, and HallieBerry is a darling and I want her to know her Papa like Shiney face does. I miss them. I am excited to see them tomorrow.

The Olde English Faire is one of those surreal nostalgic Medieval love-ins that totally dismisses the reality of the Middle Ages. The middle ages was mostly noted for its filth, disease, poverty, ignorance, superstition and fear. All but a brutal handful of thieves and thugs (given noble status by their partners in crime, the church) lived in a system of bondage that made american style slavery seem fairly benign by comparison. At least, southern slave owners threw their human chattel some pig parts and corn husks for supper and valued their slaves at least to the extent that any good businessman would protect and nurture an investment. I have to wonder how much of a crowd this shindig would draw if they had some realistic portrayals of life in the 12th and 13th century........say, for instance, Theodoric of York Medieval Barber performing a root canal with the same tools that he had just used to shoe a horse and filling cavities with molten lead....I daresay the shrieks of the patient would attract a "faire" bit of attention (aren't puns a sick, cheap shot?). A nice mix of rotting, third stage syphilis victims and lepers wandering amongst the jugglers and minstrels might bring things into focus more sharply or perhaps they could randomly round up about half of the crowd and either subject them to the auto de fa or send them and their families home with a nice case of souvenir bubonic plague. It never fails to just throw my brain into one of those logic defying mental lockups (similiar to a computer meltdown) to comtemplate the fact that at a time when the people of Europe didn't even bother to wipe their asses, ate out of a trough with their unwashed hands and couldn't even spell soap (let alone make it)...........and in fact, considered bathing a mortal sin, the people of asia (with whom Europeans had had trade relations for centuries) had opiate anesthetics, tooth brushes ( they brushed their teeth with baby urine, but hey, with no Proctor and Gamble around its a start anyway), public baths (and prided themselves on smelling good), a rudimentary system of public education and were mostly literate (the most bone-headed moron in China could quote you a line or two of Confucious).

That was a rant, wasn't it??

At any rate, the Faire is a fun thing. It is an duke's mix of old hippies and bikers, and goth chicks, and unfuckable geek-boys wearing fake swords and kilts, imagining themselves to be the true sons of William Wallace and looking more like well armed transvestites with terminal acne. There is enough grilled animal flesh to stop an elephants heart (no fucking beer though) and colorful garb and quaint songs accompanied by instruments that sound like rubber bands strung over a cigar box and jugglers and story tellers. It is vivid and lively.............and it is my father's day celebration..........and I wouldn't miss it for the world.
Next post will promise pictures..........

Before I forget, I would like to clarify one important and critical point about the "Abby shot"......... I TIP WELL!!!....................nickle-dicks need NOT apply.

In another vein, I have been mulling over the things I want to do with this site as I become more adept at tweaking the template..........my head's just spinning with ideas. I have gobs of things to link to and long years of anecdotes I'd love to tell to anyone who will listen (tell me a story Uncle Cecil).....Dedicated "side blogs" to deal with other things that interest or occupy me, and a "real" bio of Gutz the man is in the outline stage...... So hang in there, and tell all your friends if you find me in the least worth perusing.

Thus endeth the entry...........