Monthly Archives: September 2008

back on your heads

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Well that was a nice weekend, wasn’t it? Weather-wise, a little something for everybody, assuming you like sunshine or fog.

I didn’t get much accomplished, except that I managed to fork over $215 for a new window for the camper on my pickup. Long story short, it got busted, had to be replaced. One of those things.

The book and author festival in SB was nice. I got to hang with some good people and hear Gerald Locklin read. So it was good, except that’s where I discovered the broken window.

I did some laundry, played with the dog, watched football (Way to go, Fresno St!) hung out with my folks and friends, rode my bike around town … stuff like that. Oh, I put OpenOffice on my desktop comp, because my MS Word is acting up. It’s pretty cool.

But first, I was wondering this tonight:

Imagine your home and town were about to be assaulted by a dire storm – say, for instance, Hurricane Kyle. And you have a choice: You can be a little kid, and have grown-ups taking care of you, keeping you safe. Or you can be an adult, a parent with children in the path of the storm.

Which would you choose? Would you abdicate your adulthood in have instead that feeling of security your parents presumably gave you in their love? Or would you trade the luxury of innocence and helplessness, for the powers imparted to those old enough to vote and procreate? Keep in mind, if you don’t choose dependence, you must be willing to protect.

Me? Sometimes I miss being a kid.

John McCain’s Baby Bunny BBQ

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I guess I should post something on the blog, because I’m getting all these e-mails asking if I’m alright. “Kyle,” they say, “where are you? We miss your posts! Write something clever for us.”

OK, I missed about 10 days and in truth nobody noticed. So it goes. I’m just being a little facetious. Or sarcastic.

What’s the difference between facetious and sarcastic? Anybody know?

Anyone?

Bueller?

Which leads me to wonder if Ferris is a real first name. By real, I mean one ever given to a real person, rather than just to fictional Ferris in the movie.

Turns out it is a real name, though rare. And did you know that the poet Galway Kinnell has a son named Fergus? They’re both Irish names.

I’m a poet. a creative writer, and a technical writer. The latter is why I haven’t been blogging. See, the economy sucked the life out of the freelance writing & editing gig I had, working from home. So I’m grateful to have a new one, which started on Monday 9.8. I like it very much. The people are nice, and the technology is interesting.

My days this week were fully occupied, while evenings were lent to the bio-feedback essential to acclamation to a new situation; in other words, more rest.

I’m still technically freelance, a consultant, but it’s full time, on site, long term. Now I can pay the bills, which is nice. Southern California Edison won’t cast me into outer darkness. Cox Cable and Verizon won’t strip me off all connection to other sentient life.

You are all sentient, aren’t you? Self-aware? Infected by consciousness and the consciousness of consciousness? (That’s Wallace Stegner.) Sure, just like me. Let’s let each other know how that works out, alright? In the words of Garrison Keillor, Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.

a source of terror

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Once a government is committed to the principle of silencing the voice of opposition, it has only one way to go, and that is down the path of increasingly repressive measures, until it becomes a source of terror to all its citizens and creates a country where everyone lives in fear.

-Harry S. Truman, 33rd US president (1884-1972)