The Way Things Are






Lighter topics, my friends!
2005-11-23, 12:06 p.m.

Lighter topics, my friends! Lighter topics. No more crushing guilt, no mention of whores and their assorted moaning. Nobody named Flo. And I had sex this morning, AND bought fancy coffee on my way to work, so all is well.

But first this: as I remarked in my own comments yesterday, I figured out that the solution to the crushing guilt of having spent my last morning for 5 days carping at my kid for doing something that he sincerely believed was the right thing to do, and was actually being a very sweet boy to the Devil Dog whom he loves with a deep and abiding love, and even kisses good night every night was to call him and apologize. So I did, and he was fine, and he spent the night with Lou, and I told him to please be the smart one in the LG/Lou equation, and he snickered, and I told him “You can tell Lou I said that,” and he snickered all the more wildly.

I took him his (my) golf clubs this morning because there’s a Surly-family golf extravaganza today, and got to not only steal a hug from my kid, but got a hug from my ex-BIL and his daughter, my niece. I won’t say ex-niece. She’s just my niece Lindy, and she’s precious, but she’s growing up. Ten years old, I think. I dreamed about her the other day, and she was a tiny two-year-old in my dream.

To completely change the subject, have you fine folks ever seen or heard of a livestock underpass? LG and I have discovered to our nerdy delicious delight that we pass over three of these on the little back road we take to get home. Cow tunnels! We stopped the other day to get a good look at them, and could tell that while two of them were fenced up, one was still in use, as attested by the fresh cow poop, and the fact that half the herd was on one side of the road, and half was on the other side. We could tell they were the same herd. They are our favorite herd of solid black cattle and we remark on them every day, mostly by saying “Cows”.

I have searched and googled for these particular livestock underpasses to see if they have any historical significance, and can find nothing. They look pretty old: all rock lined and hobbity. Like something out of a magical forest, populated by cows and maybe their troll cowherders. I guess it’s pretty obvious that the same band of trolls and hobbits own all the land on both sides of the road. And that intrigues me. Who are they? How much land do they own? Do they live back in there as well as graze cattle? How long have their people inhabited our land? How did they coordinate the cow tunnels with the county’s right-of-way? Do you get a special deed type of thing to ensure your use of the cow tunnel, like cow tunnels have superior rights over the county’s right-of-way? Maybe the cow tunnels predate the county!

It’s like a little mystery – a secret. Secret stuff that only the county, the cow ranchers, and the cows know about. And me, and LG, and now all of you people.

I’ll take pictures of the cow tunnels one of these days, and you can marvel along with me. Cow tunnels!

I’m sure you have all been inundated with the latest barrage of emails from the CIA and the FBI, telling you that you’ve been logged at thirty illegal websites, and that you, like I, thought to yourself “Only thirty?”, and that you may have been tempted to open the attachment that promises video footage of Paris Hilton and Whatsherface, because God knows we don’t get enough of them. And I just want to know this: when in the world will the Sober virus folks learn that if you want to entice people to open your attachment, you promise them pictures of ME. ME. It’ll work, I tell you. ME.

Look at my neck. Why does it make me hungry for turkey?

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