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Close your eyes and go backward in time with me– after you’re done reading of course. This video from Badly Drawn Boy was the 4th blog post I made back in 2011, which feels like a century ago. The current health situation combined with social anxiety and the need for truth and clarity brought me back to this video. When I looked up the meaning to the song’s title, Year of the Rat, it said: “the rat typically represents new beginnings. They are powerful symbols of fertility, wealth and plenty, so people born in the Year of the Rat are considered to be optimistic, easy-going and kind.” It’s my hope that we can all hold on until we find some new energy.

As I nuke my second cup of coffee this morning, I’m picturing other people at a breakfast counter. The coffee is doing its work. I’m slowly waking up. My brain is going back and forth like a tail on an old cat clock building momentum. Yesterday Evelyn called and asked if I could look at her TV. It’s not connected to her dish satellite receiver for some reason. I pushed all the buttons on her remote and nothing happened. Then I found another remote– but that one didn’t get any results either. Today I’ll see if I can hook an an antenna to her TV and at least get the local channels tuned in.  Oooh, some toast would taste good right now. Back and forth, back and forth.

It’s been a couple of days and the voice inside my head is tired of getting a busy signal. I was taking a break and relaxing when I saw this design on a t-shirt. Ok, ok I get it. Thanks for calling me from the great beyond, Hunter. The stories I tell won’t be as weird as yours, but I will try to be detailed without losing the point. Now my stomach is making the same gurgling sounds as my toilet and I have to take care of one before fixing the other. Time to use that new plunger…

It finally happened. The device I’ve been using for my own convenience thinks of  itself as more important than me now. Two nights ago it decided it didn’t want to take pictures of anything. It won’t record video either. It will only take screenshots. It’s basically saying “why do you want to take a picture of that when I can take a picture of this?” When I try to use the camera, a notification shows up at the bottom of the screen that says “Security policy restricts use of Camera.” I feel like I’m in that scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey where the astronaut is trying to get his computer to open the pod bay doors and HAL 9000 says, “I’m sorry Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

We didn’t know whether to fold him or wash him, but there he was in the clothes hamper! When a cat is staring a hole into your forehead you know he wants to play. So what did I do? I grabbed my phone and took a picture instead. Hey, hey, don’t be so quick to take his side now! He pulls the old “switcheroo” on me all the time. Sometimes I think he wants to be affectionate, and the next second he’s biting my hand. Cats.

My uncle was a man who took pleasure in the simple things. He loved taking vacations where he could seclude himself and listen to classical music. During the holiday season, he liked to drive through neighborhoods with Christmas lights with his wife. Sometimes they would even indulge themselves at an exquisite restaurant. His brother Frank, however, never understood why anyone would want to leave his own home where you can smoke on Christmas morning without even getting dressed.
-Even though this picture looks like my Uncle Johnny from the 1960′s, I’m pretty sure it’s someone else. I just wanted to make up a story around it.

Before I was a barista, I was a babysitter. I had left my job at channel 5, hoping that another broadcasting job would drop in my lap… but it was turning into a long wait and the unemployment checks were running out. Some good friends said “we’ll pay you to watch the boys, Dave!” I wasn’t doing anything else but watching a lot of TV and playing pinball so I said, “ok.” Nathan and Alex were two-year-old twins at the time and I knew they could probably gang up on me after their parents left the house but I took the job anyway. One day the trash man was driving down their street and I told them he was actually taking the trash to the north pole and that he would come back on Christmas day. They laughed. That was 16 years ago. Recently I found out someone actually made a movie about it, and this Friday it’s airing on Netflix.

We bumped into a Homer’s kid at the pharmacy a few weeks ago. Almost everyone was younger than me while I worked at Homer’s, co-workers and customers alike. I watched preteens turn into college students and adolescents morph into moms and dads. During that time Jenny & I became parent figures to many of those “Homer’s kids.” When we saw Daniel at first I wasn’t sure if it was him because of our masks, but the way we kept looking at each other over the pharmacy aisle, I finally said “Daniel?” It was him. Daniel used to come to Homer’s all the time with his dad, Charlie. Daniel was at the pharmacy to buy skin moisturizer for his new tattoo. I asked if there was a story behind it and found out that his family has always liked bears. They even put “bear” after each others’ names. It was good seeing Daniel Bear.

“Indy, why does the floor move?” That’s the question Sallah asked Indiana Jones before they realized the floor was covered with snakes. Thankfully my breakfast booth isn’t teeming with snakes from Raiders of the Lost Ark, but it is covered with faces in formica. A few days ago this mutant penguin gave me the ‘side eye.’ He appears to be in a bad mood and in need of dental work. I’ll call him Bucky. 

Hoovie got his t-shirts in the mail! He was so excited he put them both on and started playing video games! I’m glad Rachell had a camera nearby when he went into action. It’s sort of like Marlin Perkins filming a cheetah when it chases down its prey! Here you see the predator lulling his victims into a false sense of security by disguising himself as one of them (a space invader) before blasting the entire horde into oblivion. …and here is the mighty hunter displaying his other outer t-shirt as he gets ready to face another day. Rock on Sir Hoovie!