I have this problem,
I'm so certain that I'm so much smarter
than just about anyone,
that I want to write things,
and have everyone read what I write.
I don't want to read anything.
Why should I?
I'm the one who already knows things.
Read what I write.
Disclaimer:
I don't know thousands of details,
all about one topic;
those folks are known as
college graduates.
I know about the big picture.
I do a little bit of research,
just a little,
not even every day,
just when it occurs to me.
I gradually get a more and more clear picture
of the big picture,
with that research.
Other than that little bit of reading,
I have very little desire
to read anything.
I wish I could quit my job at Walmart,
and write full time.
Since I can't right now,
I settle for little diaries like this:
Then again,
I'm not very much in the mood
to write a whole lot right now.
I could give you a pancake recipe,
but you can't duplicate it,
since you don't have any government issue
powdered eggs.
The pancakes smell great, though.
I eat them with peanut butter and cheap syrup.
I'm a fanatic about eating plenty of
high fat foods.
I cooked the pancakes
in lots of oil,
and loaded them up with lots of peanut butter,
before pouring on the syrup,
and wolfing them down.
I have a lot going on,
but my wife's cancer,
and the surgery to remove it,
is not the big thing on my mind,
even though it certainly should be.
She hurt my feelings,
about an hour ago,
and that distracts me.
I need to simply let it fade away.
I might play a game of Free Cell,
and maybe go to bed.
I don't have to work at Walmart today,
so there's no hard deadline,
but I should use common sense,
whatever that is.
Our American system,
based largely on oil,
will collapse,
some time around the year 2050.
The 300 million Americans who will die at that time,
that's the big picture I want to tell folks about.
But somehow,
the message is lost,
folks change the subject.
And my wife complains about something
I failed to do,
three years ago.
Is that important now?
Surgery.
Cancer.
That's important now.
I'm having a mellow morning,
in spite of everything.
When I walk the dog,
I'll check on the progress of the tiny garden,
where I have a piece of a wire fence
set up so my cucumber vines
can climb up it,
and the tendrils are curling around the wire,
as we speak of them.
Come to my backyard,
and pick some cucumbers off the fence,
in a few weeks,
when they get big.
Let's make pickles.
Thanks for reading.