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Anticipation,
originally uploaded by kylekimberlin.

Tasha just finished the animal crackers she got a few days ago. I got them for her because a friend who also has a dog with renal failure suggested them. The ingredients do look a lot more benign than the dog treats she used to scarf, and it’s OK with the vet.
Tash used to love opening boxes, and went after this one with practiced dedication. But in the end, she accepted help. I let her use the scissors.

Don’t miss the latest Baghdad Burning post, from the land of freedom under occupation.

Thai Fishermen Net 646-Pound Catfish – Yahoo! News

This one’s for my Dad. You clean it, I’ll cook it.

I’ve been sitting here going through my poems, trying to find one to post for my recently dead friend, Tracey. I’m sure he’ll find his way into my new writing eventually, but I wanted to post something now. I failed to find anything I could stand. There are times when reading one’s own writing is like accidentally biting into aluminum foil. Not really what you were hoping for.

No matter. I don’t think it’s the kind of thing Tracey would’ve wanted anyway.

So anyway, I’ve got this root canal on the calendar for first thing in the morning, and I need to lighten up. Here, I’ve got just the thing. On Saturday, I spent a little time in the playhouse in my folks backyard, with my little nephew. I was trying to sing this song for him, but I couldn’t remember the words. So we sang the first two lines a bunch of times, and played, and that was OK.

It’s not that easy being green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow, or gold
Or something much more colorful like that

It’s not easy being green
It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things
And people tend to pass you over
‘Cause you’re not standing out
Like flashy sparkles in the water
r stars in the sky

But green’s the color of spring
And green can be cool and friendly-like
And green can be big like a mountain
Or important like a river
Or tall like a tree

When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why
But why wonder why wonder
I am green, and it’ll do fine
It’s beautiful, and I think it’s what I want to be

I’m thinking that sometime soon I’m going to reinstall the code for haloscan comments on the blog. But I didn’t want to do so and lose the following poem, which commenter Corewell left in Blogger comments a few days ago. It’s worth thinking about.

The Goldfish Floats to the Top of His Life and turns over,
a shaving from somebody’s hobby.
So it is that men die at the whims of great companies,
their neckties pulling them speechless into machines,
their wives finding them slumped in the shower,
their hearts blown open like boiler doors.
In the night, again and again
these men float to the tops of their dreams
to drift back to their desks in the morning.
If you ask them, they all would prefer to have died in their sleep.

by Ted Kooser

Rightful liberty is unobstructed action according to our will within limits drawn around us by the equal rights of others. I do not add ‘within the limits of the law’ because law is often but the tyrant’s will, and always so when it violates the rights of the individual.

-Thomas Jefferson

Isn’t it hard to look at that and not think of the recent decisions on eminent domain and medical marjuana?

An interesting post on David Brin’s blog, about the GI bill and its effects on American class structure:

Look around and recognize what’s happening for the very simple thing that it is. All administration policies fall into place in light of a vast raid by kleptocrats. Not the brightest portion of the aristocracy, only the most rapacious part, willing to send us into war (stupidly) but unwilling (for the first time in US history, to tax themselves to help pay for it.

[Link]

Well, brother J and his wife L and little T have left to go home to northern California. My folks are driving them to city V (this is annoying, isn’t it?) to pick up their rental car. There was no more room in the car for me to tag along, and I have plans later this morning anyway, so here I am. [Sigh] And it’s always sad when people leave. Thank God for the dogs to keep me company.

I took some pictures while they were here. Maybe I’ll get some up in an album to share.

Why is it that we bloggers often identify our family members and friends with just initials? Are we afraid they’ll be hunted down by some blog surfing predators? I can see why bloggers like Riverbend do it; she’s in a war zone and has every good reason to fear authoritarian reprisal. But why am I doing it?

I finished reading A Graveyard for Lunatics by Ray Bradbury. It took me a while, but it was good. A fun read. Didn’t think a lot of the plot, but the writing was way above average. No flies on Bradbury; he’s a pro.

When I dropped that off at the Library, I picked up Blue Shoe by Anne Lamott and started it. She’s near the top of my list of favorite writers, not because she creates great literature but because her writing is true and honest. Her essays on her life and faith are downright brave. And she loves writing, which shines through in everything she publishes. So I’m looking forward to this book, even though she’s maybe no John Updike.

Which may be true, but John Updike is. So I picked up one of his. I know, I’ve read it before and mentioned it on this blog, but I just couldn’t help myself. I got Toward the End of Time for another reading. Here’s a writer who’s so good, he can do anything he damn well pleases. And I could use some inspiration along those lines.

Finally, we watched Beyond the Sea. Kevin Spacey as Bobby Darin. I didn’t think I’d like it, but I did. I really enjoyed the music and even the dancing. Which suprises me; I usually dislike musicals. But this movie had a surreal edge, some good acting, and Kevin Spacey actually can sing pretty well.

So my brother J flew down from Sacramento last night, with a connection in LA. His wife L and son T came down by car a few days ago, and we’ve been having a happy visit. J joined us at the end of the work week. TMI?

Anyway, J’s text message’d me before he took off in Sackatamato and again in LA, to keep us updated on his progress. Then right before he took off for SB, I got a message that I have a photo from him.

I don’t have a camera phone; I’m prefer one of these. But I can get photos sent to my phone via Verizon Wireless’s Web site. So I go to the computer, but there’s nothing new in my inbox. There’s this picture that J sent me last fall, from a Macy’s store up north. I thought VZW was having a nutty, ’cause I know I didn’t leave that picture sitting in my inbox for half a year.

Turns out this is the one he sent me last night. J keeps this in his phone, just to send out now and then, to make people’s day a little more surreal. So I want you to meet J’s little friend.

click to enlarge

So now you know, if this cutie pops up on your phone, it’s probably my brother. Or it could be me.

My brother and his family are here for a visit. J flew in tonight when he got off work in northern Cal. Which means that I didn’t totally screw up the flight booking, which I handled for him.

My nephew is such an amazing kid. Just 4 and he’s gonna be smarter than his uncle and his dad put together. He speaks in sentences, with words up to four sylables. The president of the United States can’t do that!

It’s summer solstice time, and the weather is beautiful.

God is merciful. If continued gravity is any indication, the sun is on schedule to rise again, and I have some bold hope of being here to see it. Goodnight.

My friends and I lost a friend today. Tracey was one of the guys in our lunch group when I worked at Veeco. He worked at TI then, and more recently at Raytheon. I was much newer to the circle of friends, and he always made me feel welcome. He made us all laugh. I enjoyed being around him.

I remember Tracey was saving up to buy a Porsche. No hurry — I’m sure he could’ve financed it, but you see he had this fund. He knew what he wanted, but it wasn’t driving him the way wanting something drives a lot of men. All good things in all good time.

I can still barely believe it. Somebody must have made a mistake. A computer screwup maybe. I kept thinking we would get an e-mail from him — it was all a mistake or a joke. Wasn’t he in my e-mails just yesterday, suggesting lunch to the group? It hasn’t been long since I talked to him on the phone. He called to encourage me with a problem. So it must be a mistake; some misbegotten line of code, unchecked, unproven; some wildly misfiring offspring of Intel, bringing us this news. No, it was his heart. He always seemed to me the kind of guy who made good use of it.

Please take a moment to say a prayer for the good man Tracey Gourlay, for his family and his friends.

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