“All good art cannot help but confront denial on its way to truth.” ~ Pete Townsend
Just 20 minutes ago the turkey, the cat, and the rooster, were all yelling at me. Finally some relief. The morning is muggy and a rumpled cloud ceiling paints moist gray across this canvas of a day. The canvas was looking pretty blank there for a day or two, so I cannot complain, now that I have a metaphor to play with, and I don’t even mind that I get a tad meta in doing so. It’s one of life’s little pleasures. Now, I ask myself what’s up for the day dude. There’s a psychiatrist appointment a 10 AM. It’s always a pleasure to see the pretty doctor lady, but she is retiring from the clinic so this will be that last time, and I am righteously bummed about that. Next comes, most likely, the laundromat. Regular readers here at EyeYotee should know that I always enjoy the laundromat. It’s a low-grade spiritual experience for me. Another of life’s little pleasures. Keep ’em coming. That’s what I say. Yesterday was quite a day. It began with a trip to the Unemployment office. Boy howdy I was wishing it was not so damned necessary! You can quote me on that. The young Spanish fella there was real nice. In my honor he proceeded to bury me in details and explanations. It got to the point where I couldn’t take any more in, because my cognition hit the wall, so I let them go into whatever receptacle that serves as an overflow emergency device of the mind. Because my cognition has seemed so unreliable lately I can always fall back on my cultivated ability to reconstruct, recapitulate, whatever, the details by squeezing my memory a little bit, and it all comes back out, in a sweet semblance of accuracy. That method is powerfully facilitated by my inborn prowess at pattern recognition. Oh wait, I just used the word “powerfully” in a sentence. That reminds me of Gregg Braden, who’s name came up over lunch. Gregg’s a hoot. Read one of his books and you will see that there is no dearth in his usage of the word “powerful”. Friggin guy rocks. Go see one of his talks. He’s a witty and thoughtful guy. But it’s not time for the lunch thing yet. I was still at the Unemployment office. The young fella then coached me through, after walking me through, creating my own file in/on the database, then doing the ‘one click’ thing to submit my application, which was accepted. Sweet. I wasn’t feeling so well, so I needed a younger man to walk me through, as if I were crossing the street through traffic, or some other infernal thing like that. Subsistence income is now at my disposal. Ya gotta love it. I just hope that no Republicans catch wind of this. I’d hate to have to go off on one of them guys. Maybe Ann Coulter? I could do one of those Three Stooges nose twisting moves. Oh, a wise guy eh . . .
I had lunch at the Diner with Debra Diamond, an author and NDE researcher, who’s book Life After Near Death comes out in January of next year (yes, this is a plug, strictly my decision to do so). She being a researcher and me being an experiencer, it made for some fascinating conversation. Plus, she is excellent company. Two hours later we exited the Diner and went our separate ways. I greatly enjoyed the meal and the chat.
Not to be all whiny but I have not felt well since the animal shelter closed its doors. It’s not being jobless, it’s the shock from such a tumultuous action. I mean like whoomph dude. Why’d ya hafta go and do that? But I decided to barely mention that controversy in today’s blog. I mean a guy doesn’t want to beat a dead horse, does he. OMG! That was a poor choice of idioms. My bad. Now, I haven’t got much else to say except that I am really enjoying the cooing of the mourning dove outside the window. For now I’m going to go all Wally Cleaver on y’all and say “Gee, mister. Can I have my job back? Gee thanks mister”.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.