A friend of mine posted that he does not like ice cream! I find that hard to believe! Who doesn’t like ice cream?! What’s wrong with this person, and do I still consider him a friend? I’m not sure…
I was also told that a couple of ladies I know believe in some sort of reptile conspiracy theory! What’s wrong with these people? The one
 thing I won’t eat are bananas, and that’s because of a bad experience I had in the back of my dad’s VW van after eating banana birthday cake while I had the flu! And I’ve never seen a lizard person I didn’t like.
I judge people all the time. I want to be more accepting of things that I can’t relate to but I’m an ox and it’s hard to push me off my path – at least I think I’m an ox or a white cow, depends on which Chinese astrology app I’m reading at the time. And don’t get me started about numerology – I’m a 30/3 if you ask Dan Millman. 30/3s are all about emotional expression and the zero means I’ve got special gifts, but were not always good at what were here to work on so… At least I know I’m a Leo and my moon is in Sagittarius… yea that explains it! Are you fucking kidding me?! Who doesn’t like ice cream!
If there are reptiles impersonating humans and trying to control us by shoving microchips into our brains through Covid test swabs or vaccines, then I want to eat as much ice cream as I can before the lizard people turn us all into soylent green – besides my Venus is in Gemini so I could go either way – plus I’ll probably have a little something on the side just in case.
The laws of science versus the laws of the Gods, now that’s an entertaining battle! Tie her up and see if the witch burns or throw her into the river and see if she floats. If she dies, we’ll know she’s a good god-fearing Christian! And who’s God is better anyway, the Muslims or the Hindus or the Apache’s or the lizard people? Let’s make them eat ice cream and if they start to grow scales, we’ll tie them up and burn them at the stake and then we’ll throw them into the river and if they are still alive after all that, we’ll make them eat bananas in the back of my old man’s VW van.

My old friend Willie Nelson proclaims they only have three rules in his house: #1 – Don’t be an asshole! #2 – Don’t be an asshole, and #3 – Don’t be a fucking asshole! I thought this is the wisest, most profound thing that I have ever heard so I’ve adopted these rules for my own home. I have to admit – it’s not as easy as it sounds. See, I have some serious asshole DNA in my blood. My father is asshole, my mother is an asshole, her mother was an asshole, my brother is an asshole, my sister is an asshole, and of course I am a complete fucking asshole! 
We try not to be. We hide behind masks and live lies, but when the shit hits the fan, a true asshole always give themselves away, in the end. Nevertheless, strive to live by these simple rules: #1 – Don’t be an asshole! #2 – Don’t be an asshole, and #3 – Don’t be a fucking asshole!
Willie once asked me to bring my guitar and join him to perform at a concert he was playing at the MACC, but his regular guitar player that night said, “There’s NO way you’re getting on this stage dude!”. Now I thought this guy was being a cockblocking mother fucking asshole, and when I told Willie later, he just laughed and didn’t give it much thought. I told this story to an acquaintance the other night and she said I was being the asshole and should have understood where this guy was coming from – trying to protect his gig and all. Well, I think she’s an asshole for not understanding where I was coming from!  And yet, I do, I try to live by the three simple rules: #1 – Don’t be an asshole! #2 – Don’t be an asshole, and #3 – Don’t be a fucking asshole!
I don’t know if there is ever an elevation from assholiness. Like a graduation, or a knighthood or something. Most holes retain their distinct mannerisms throughout their life, even if they work at subduing the inevitable revelations through misconstrued interpretations. I’ve been categorizing my own strategies with the hope of elimination but that’s like asking a skunk not to stink. And still, I try to abide, by these rules: #1 – Don’t be an asshole! #2 – Don’t be an asshole, and #3 – Don’t be a fucking asshole!
Wash me down, scrub me up, put me through the ringer, nothing ever changes. I know what’s in me and I know one when I smell one. I don’t think I was born like this, so maybe there’s hope and someday I can eradicate the excrement and learn to see things from the other side. My blood pressure could use the slide, but in the meantime, I’ll keep trying to live by the three simple rules: #1 – Don’t be an asshole! #2 – Don’t be an asshole, and #3 – Don’t be a fucking asshole!

​She is the love of my life!
I know it the moment I see her. I’ve been waiting all my life, and now she’s here! I have no doubt! I had a false alarm a few years before with another girl who could have been her twin. It felt very similar, but we were much too young. This time it’s real. This time, I’m all in! This time, I’m going there no matter what the deal is! 
She is the love of my life!
She looks just the way I want her to. I wouldn’t change a thing! Everything about her is perfect to me. Five foot four, one hundred and sixteen pounds. Thick brown hair, long with golden highlights, the right side tucked behind her ear. Deep set eyes, a faraway green that says, ‘I’ve seen a lot, more than I’m willing to tell”, but she’s still hoping to be surprised! She’s still hoping for a reason to smile.
She is the love of my life!
I’m attracted with the all the magnet forces of the universe, like the gods had planned it, and we agreed before we were born. I love her smell, the sound of her voice, the fullness of her lips. I love how one tooth is just slightly tilted. I love the gentle hint of a few freckles across the bridge of her once broken nose. I love how her breasts hang just so. I love that she doesn’t wear a bra, and her nipples push through her sweater in the cold Mendocino air.
She is the love of my life!
The husband is missing, it’s been about a week. I towed him in last month. Bad steering. The Police won’t help, they know his history. She’s asked around town. His crew knows nothing. The harbor doesn’t tell. They’ve seen him crossing the river from bar to bar. We couldn’t find his dingy. We couldn’t find a thing. 
She is the love of my life!
I drank a lot of whiskey last night. Laying on my back on the outboard gunwale, soaking up the morning sun, nursing my coffee, smoking another cig, not yet getting anything done. Someone hollers “Hey Bowen, they found your floater” …
He’s under the Sportsman’s Dock. Long green sleeves and blue jeans puffed out like a balloon. His face, a rubber mask like on Halloween. There are people watching from the shore. I see her in the crowd. She knows what this means. She knows I’m putting him in the basket. We nod. It’s a sad grey morning.
She is the love of my Life!
I see her in the grocery. She’s doing alright. Her mother says I should check on her - It’s Easter night. We talk until the sun comes up then lay quiet on her coach. I come back after work. Watching her cook, I get out of my chair and turn her towards me, I kiss her soft, then hard, and hold her tight for the first time in our lives.
She is the love of my life! 

I think we all need to just pause for a minute, for a moment, for a breath.

Nothing is normal. The entire world has shifted on its axis, every life turned upside down. Whether unmasked or masked, vaxxed or unvaxxed, sick or well, we’re all affected. And we all need to just pause for a moment, for a minute, for a breath.

We need to look up from our reflective screens to see the bigger picture. Too many myopic views are skewed by Fox News and Facebook and other misinformation. And yes, we have rights— and they should be protected—but right now, we need to pause. And be thankful we can take another breath. We need to take a minute to do the math, to computate the numbers and convert them into lives so the magnitude of the situation comes back into clear focus. We need to take a moment to ponder the fact that almost every single person sick, or dead or dying from Covid has someone who loves them or someone they love.

I think we all need to just pause, and take a minute, take a moment, take a breath.

Take a breath…
                    Take a breath…
                                        Take a breath…

And appreciate the thing that so many are fighting for in this. Very. Moment.

And YES, I’m worried about my kids. Just the first two days of school resulted in two letters home, that two employees tested positive. My kids are positive they don’t want the vaccine and I can’t blame ‘em. My side effects have continued for months. BUT, instead of freaking out about their proximity to others, instead of re-locking them in their rooms and bathing them in sanitizer, instead of forcing an injection over their objections; hands-tied, sleeves-pushed-up, gags-silencing-their muffled-cries, instead of all that I think I need to just pause for a minute. 

PAUSE. 

For a minute, for a moment, for a breath.

It might only take a moment….
To realize our interconnectivity. To realize it isn’t just about us. To realize the responsibility EVERY shoulder carries. This falls on each of us, and it’s a heavy load.

So yeah, I think we all need to just pause. For a minute. For a moment. For a breath.