Ducks Mahal

A little update first on a few things before I get to the main points.

Firstly, Audubon Ron gets one every 25 years whether he needs one or not. Yesterday he had a speedgasm in the company veerhicle and got the pull over by one of the state’s finest Kaplan Academy grads. Can someone esplain me why those guys have to wear reflector blueflammer sunglasses? One would have thought the trooper would have been more sympathetic to old people because Audubon Ron wears those blue blocker sunglasses over his real glasses like the old people do. As criminal justice would have it, after the trooper gave Ron the ticket, the trooper had to open the hood of his car to mess with something and Audubon Ron saw smoke coming from the hood in his rear view mirror as Ron sped away not offering one inch of help, which Ron is usually prone to do, because like Ron’s a total Minch. That ain’t nothing but a real Karmarang right there.

Secondly, if you have a firstly, you must have a secondly, it’s the law. Audubon Ron went into seclusion and away from blogging to dedicate more time to his music, which he did. He attempted to upload the latest piece he composed and recorded, but was unsuccessful because WordPress wanted to gank Ron for an extra $60 in audio software upload privileges, the lousy rotten jack hammers. He isn’t paying no $60 a year to upload anything. Hey, every penny adds up to a dollar. If you want music you will need to write your congressman.

Thirdly, Audubon Ron needs to wash his truck. It was red. He’s not sure whatever happened to the red truck but he needs to examine the chemical compo of rain for signs of acid. There is a small seedling of something growing in the door jam. It might have missed a few vacuumings as well and that’s all he’s going to say about that. It is an old truck with 250,000 miles of faithful delivery. Audubon Ron is sentimental that way. He has mentioned subatomic radioactive particles alongside interstates from car exhaust before, he’s just saying. Or, maybe he’s too cheap to purchase a new ride. He’s had the red truck so long it still has Local Motion surf stickers on the back window.

Now the Tale of Two Friends. I write this in the most excruciating arthritic hip pain know to mankind. And I manage. I will follow the acknowledgement process. Who they are; what they did and the impact they’ve had on my life.

“It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…”

My first friend is Michele at MidLifeMama. I can’t recall the day or how we became digital friends, but I assure you, she is a digital delight. I liked her right off. In my view she is an eloquent woman, deeply concerned for her husband and son. She holds an important position at a college assisting families with their financial needs. She possesses a certain refinement for life and a keen dedication for the necessaries. A jazz singer in her available time she entertains those less fortunate and who aren’t entertained much at all and while an accomplished singer, I view this effort as her private ministry. She shares her strengths and frailties and above all demonstrates care and benevolence in all things.

The difference she has made in my life is that of loyalty and a tolerance for my written trivialities. She is a friend you can count on. Trust me, I’ve pushed to the limit. Though I haven’t responded to all her posts I am confident I have read all but maybe 3% of what she has written. I truly feel enriched by her presence in my life, be it ever so digital, and wish and pray for a thousand blessings for her and her family.

The second friend is Mr. Lady at Whiskeyinmysippycup. Also I can’t recall the time or place we first crossed paths but I can say she is one hell of a firebrand. Having endured a challenging childhood in abject poverty and partial abandonment, she is the salt. Fire and ice in toughness and in tenderness. She is like an airbag deployed when it comes to her children protecting them against the harms of life instantly. I have watched her via her blog, keep pushing toward a better conclusion. While she might be a little impulsive, she somehow always seems to find the right conclusion. She is blonde, but is also sharp as a freshly stroped knife, a razor’s edge. Not sure what she does for a living owing to her somewhat secretive nature, but I do know she made a move recently. Of course I’m the very last to know these things the little rotten… I also realize I’m a shriv because she is young enough to be my daughter and largely I can’t seem to find the right wiggle and walk with her. Okay, telling her I’d meet her and her friends at a café in San Francisco when I didn’t even leave Mississippi was maximum boneheadedness. Okay, and getting way too much wine under me and getting into a Ninja level argument in her comments section one night with some of her commentors was pushing the limit and might not have shown the best of respect. Yes, I confess, I did these things.

The difference she has made in my life is watching her snap back against all odds. I know I would, any parent should find it an absolute honor to have her as a daughter and I wish and pray for a thousand blessings for her and her family.

The end of a Tale of Two Cities goes as follows: “It is a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done; it’s a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”

I adapt it, it is a far, far better thing that I have ever done to know them, than to never have known them digitally at all giving thanks on this Thanksgiving.

(BTW, the only reason I’m not Jewish is because my mother wasn’t Jewish. Story for another day.)

The End