“Once a fool had a good part in the play,
If it’s so would I still be here today?
It’s quite peculiar in a funny sort of way,
They think it’s very funny everything I say.
Get a load of him, he’s so insane
You’d better get your coat dear
It looks like rain.” ~ Bernie Taupin and Elton John
Moods come and go. It’s like what one of my favorite songwriters and musical inspirations, Rodney Crowell, called “it’s only weather passing through”. Yeh, to a point, but it’s a good point. I don’t know, I live with what some call a mood disorder (why don’t they spell that word ‘dysorder’ rather than disorder? Just sayin’). Sometimes it is hard to tell iffin a particular mood swing, dive, ascent, whatever, is illness-born or just bein’ kinda like human or something. Trust me, it’s not the same. Sometimes it don’t actually swing at all, it just kinda appears, like something beamed down from a Romulan Warbird. Then what? Call Commander Data to get a logical analysis of the phenomenon? Whatever. It is what it is. Live with it dude. And cheer up, there’s a lot of good in the world. True, that. But it is a good idea to find your Inner Data to keep a hold of your rational functions. Now, going forward, yesterday had both good and bad. The bad, which also had a good side, was that I barely escaped being sucked into a sorta black hole when one of my triggers got tripped, and the old demon PTSD started in on me. I instantly felt the trigger and headed it off at the pass. Don’tcha jest love them western film allusions? I don’t care for westerns, but they do have their good points. Anyway . . . the good part was that my self-traing worked as needed: I tackled the demon and wrestled it to the ground. And it then ran off like a skunk with his tail between his legs – fortunately. The good part of the day was that I forgot that I had traded shifts at work, so when I forgot, the memory lapse caused me to show up 90 minutes early. I decided to use the time to take a drive up into the mountains, up to U.S. Hill. There’s a scenic overlook up there that is the last place I took mom for an outing, ten days before she died. I intended to sit up there with a cup of coffee, (I left my travel mug, coffee and all, up there!) to vibe in to the memories, and to see where they might take me. Maybe mom would give me a sign of her presence in Spirit. On top of that I wanted to be left to my scenic solitude. At one point I stood up from the little wooden bench to take some photos. I was facing down into town, which was partially visible from those many miles away, when I heard a vehicle (turned out to be two) approach behind me. Shit, there goes the solitude, I thought. So I snapped another couple of photos, then turned around to have a look see at who had arrived. Gulp. It was two fancy cars filled with about ten or so beautiful teenage girls all in short-shorts or short skirts. My DNA kicked in, but I, mostly, kept my composure. I did gaze, perhaps a little to long, if you go by good manners. They swarmed over to the bench on the deck, to behold the breathtaking view. Ummmm . . . . the other breathtaking view. Whatever, I went to the guardrail and took a couple more photos. When I turned back around one one girl – tall, blond, blue eyes, short . . . . ahem. Anyway, she asked me if I would take a group photo. “Yes, ma’m, I will”. She handed me a camera. Needless to say, I was buoyant for a few hours after that, which probably accounts for my narrow escape from a panic attack, later in the day. On the drive back into town I said “wow” a few times. Were the girls a sign from mom? If so, what does it mean, other than “Why so serious, son”? Here’s the photo I took right before I was interrupted.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.