Bucket List

My doctor told me I had better start on my bucket list. I am not sure what this has to do with my lungs, but… whatever.
 
My Bucket List:

1.      Purchase a bucket.

2.      Get appropriate items to put in a bucket.

3.      Research the difference between a pail and a bucket.

4.      Find out if buckets must be kicked, because I do not wish to further injure my knee.

I feel like I am missing something about this whole bucket list thing. I guess I’ll ask Morgan Freeman about it next time I see him. He and that guy that played the Joker made a movie about bucket lists, I think. I forget what it was called. "Sharktank Redemption?"

This is a bucket

Are There Cowboy Hats in Heaven?

When cowboys die, where do all the cowboy hats go? This is a serious question. Lets say your grandfather dies, does his hat hold special meaning for you? Or his pocket knife? Is this just a Texas thing? When my Papa passed, I wanted his hat and his pocket knife. I still have his pocket knife. I wish I had his hat. It's crazy, but I can almost feel the hat's silky lining, and he passed over 35 years ago. I would put it on as a boy, and sometimes his boots, too, and pretend I was grown up like him. God I miss him. I'd put that hat on today if I had it.

Commodore Decker

"Planet Killer"

William Windom, an actor that could chew more scenery than William Shatner himself, passed away this month. He was on Star Trek as Commodore Decker in "The Doomsday Machine." The episode is one of my favorites, despite the fact that the Enterprise battles what looks like a cornucopia with tape all over it. It was Moby Dick in space, people! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9djuORzi9rU

I forgot I had this until someone asked me when I was going to post some writing.

In the last year, I have gone from being a graphic artist to a Texas Parole Officer.

Surely there's a story there somewhere.

Do people still read blogs, though?

I bet he had a strong back from giving all those misguided men a Christian burial.

Every night possible, as a toddler, I sat on my Papa's lap, staying up WAY past my bedtime (we never told mom), and watched Gunsmoke after the late news ended. From the opening gunshot until the credits rolled over the coffeepot on the wood-stove in his office at the jail, U.S. Marshall Matt Dillion thrilled us both. There was little gray in the formulaic plots; everything was black and white. Right was right, wrong was wrong, and the law made sense back then. The law was a good thing. And Matt Dillon WAS that law. He never seemed to take pleasure in enforcing the law, and by that, I mean shooting 1-5 outlaws a week. I bet he had a strong back from giving all those misguided men a Christian burial. Graves don't dig themselves. And how many times did the character get shot in the shoulder?! The answer kids, is, as you already know, twelve less times than Festus got cold cocked with a gun-butt across the back of his head.

James Arness was, without question, the TV John Wayne. Recently the library got the first season of Gunsmoke on DVD. The first episode was introduced by John Wayne and started out in Amarillo, Texas. Many loved Bonanza, or the Virginian, or Have Gun Will Travel, but James Arness as Matt Dillon was the cowboy I wanted to be when I was blasting cap guns at whoever lost the toss and had to be the bad-guy while playing Cowboys and Indians.

I am saddened by his passing.

Jackie Cooper Passes into the Phantom Zone

Jackie Cooper, of Little Rascals and Superman fame, is dead. I loved him as a kid as Perry White. That man could tear up some scenery Shatner style and chomp a cigar!

I hated the Little Rascals. Yet, I watched them constantly. Why? There were 3 channels and you watched what was on or you went outside and injured yourself!

I always liked Jackie Cooper, but I could have sworn he died in 1994.

I used to get a kick out of the fact that he and Robert "Baretta" Blake were grown up Little Rascals. My favorite was the old, fat bald guy that always face palmed, Edgar Kennedy. He was also in some Marx Brothers movies.

Jackie Kennedy was aces, though.

Cleaning House

Many old posts were deleted to make room for a newer, prettier Happyland.

Spellchecklers™

Spellchecklers™ are people that diss my comedy for all the misspellings.

Okay.

Saturday.

Walmart.

Looking at Halloween stuff.

Poodle skirt costume. Pointing at it, my daughter says to my wife, "Wow, look, Mom! Just like y'all used to have in the 80s right?"

OUCH! Followed by much laughter, and realizing that we were as close to the 50s then as she is to the 80s.

Happy Daze!

Focaccia bread

Focaccia bread. Man, it is GOOD.

You usually eat it with drizzles of olive oil with crushed, tiny bits of garlic to infuse it with flavor. When eaten at an open air cafe in Italy just as the day starts to warm, say, around eleven forty, you can enjoy the smell of the rest of the day's bread baking, as well. Or you could buy one at Walmart. Whatever.

Random Thoughts and Dreams and Narcissism Burnout

I dreamt I was in a nursing home (or hopefully a huge one story hospital). I went outside for air, and it was cold and snowy. I got locked out and had to walk around to another entrance. There were Christmas decorations everywhere, and, bizarrely enough, Christmas presents in the snow like Easter eggs. I grabbed what I could carry, but all the doors I came to were locked. One door had nurses that saw me outside, but they were laughing too hard to let me in.

Figure THAT one out, kids.

...just our society descending into a never ending hall of mirrors...

I think I had narcissism burnout last night. It was 2:15am, the dog had yapped me awake. I realized that all the podcasts and blogs and facebooks and internets and twitters are just our society descending into a never ending hall of mirrors.
I was depressed.
I am sick of writing my own history.
But I can't stop.
I need Brain Calgon for my book writing!

Do you REALLY know Bill Murray?

Me neither.

Via: Online School

The Day It Got Weird

I finally got to take my little girl to her first concert. July 28, 2010, Amarillo, Texas, in the Globe News Center. Weird Al Yankovic brought his show to town again.

My wife and I had seen Weird Al a little over 10 years ago during the "Running with Scissors" Tour (March 2000). She was then pregnant with Madison. We took a pillow to muffle the sound from the unborn ears. Flash forward to yesterday, A.D., and the kid got to see Al and Company rock the Yellow City. We were 3rd row, center. Al came into the audience and grooved down the slightly-wider row behind us during "Wanna B Ur Lovr," practically leaning on her and Carmen's heads.

The show was amazing, and Al stayed after to sign some stuff and let us take pictures. It was an amazing time, his band is incredible, playing music from every genre, and he just could not have been nicer. He seemed genuinely taken aback when Carmen told him that the girl he just signed for was in utero during his last visit to Amarillo.

"You have really pretty handwriting."

I got hit on at a Taco Bell by a young man when I was with my new wife in 1998.

The counter guy was weirdly nervous as he took our order, brought our tray, and asked if we needed any Fire Sauce or Fiesta Sauce or whatever they were calling it that month.

"You have really pretty handwriting."

The kid took my check, and, blushing while looking at my... man area.... said, "You have really pretty handwriting." My wife has never let me forget, because, as anyone knows, I have horrible handwriting. It must be code or something...

http://store.mcsweeneys.net/index.cfm/fuseaction/catalog.detail/object_id/86dd6b4a-88b3-4615-8fc5-fcfcb22bfd1e/JaguarTshirt.cfm

The caption reads: "Man, you've got good-looking handwriting."

Mellon-Colic

My favorite things to blog about: procrastination. And that other one....

Pick a direction

Sadly, I didn't keep up with this. Is it humor? Is it social commentary? Is it political venting? Well, on the plus side, I am writing everyday, mostly comedy, and I always have a notebook near. Also great, Facebook has helped me focus more on comedy and write something every day there as well. I may yet make something of this site. We shall see. My friend, Tim, and I are pushing one another to write every day. Occasionally so is my great friend Sean. I hope all my note taking will lead to works that make people laugh, even if it is at me and my mistakes!

I'll give you something to cry about...

Saw this posted by another friend and thought you should see it.

www.dayswithmyfather.com

I was finally able to make myself look at this. What a treasure of sadness.

The body betrays,
But the Soul endures.

It should be labeled Not Safe For Work. Crying at my desk scares the co-workers.

I miss my mom. No matter how crazy she was or how crazy she made me sometimes, there was always laughter. She has been gone almost 10 years.

No waterboarding for me, please.

I just had the most vivid and disturbing dream. I was being waterboarded. I could not breathe. My face was wrapped in tee-shirt material. My mouth was open, but I could not get a breath. I was leaned upside down and water was being poured on my face. I couldn't breathe in through my nose. I could not stop it. I had thought I could make it through because I thought I knew the fear of drowning from my bout with pulmonary embolisms. I was wrong. I cannot shake the feeling that at that moment, on some parallel earth, another me was being tortured. Crazy? Sure. My chest hurts, my heart is still pounding now 30 minutes later, I cannot breathe deeply. I hope that God helps anyone this is or was being done to, on whatever world.

www.facebook.com/michael1701

Come see me on facebook as well...
www.facebook.com/michael1701

Morris Communications Slashes Wages, or Burying the Lead for Good

A very good friend works at the Amarillo Globe News, and, after months of slow downsizing, those that are left are having their wages slashed. It really saddens me to watch the print journalism industry die in coughs and spurts. I think Morris Communications owns some local TV/radio outlets as well, and it is unclear how this will touch those peoples' lives. Keep them in your thoughts and/or prayers. The trenches all seem so quiet and peaceful until people around you start exploding.

http://www.amarillo.com/stories/031909/bus_biz5.shtml#mdw-comments