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Jenny and I filled up her Kia Soul for 95 cents last Sunday. Gas hasn’t been that cheap since Model T’s shared the streets with horse drawn carriages and Henry Ford was a household name! I took a picture of the gas pump to prove it really happened…If you’re wondering how we went back in time to pay eleven cents a gallon, it was by way of our Chopper Shopper card from Price Chopper. We saved up enough points from our grocery purchases to knock $1.54 off the $1.65 price. We actually pumped 8 gallons into that gas tank for a whopping total of 95 cents. I wanted to keep driving, but I was afraid we might go deeper into a time portal. Being so far west into the Kansas Territory we might have been caught between the U.S. Cavalry and a warring tribe of Native Americans.

Jenny and I heard this song on a Sunday drive and loved it. It’s upbeat and it has a good message. Anytime someone writes a song that brings people together so they can put aside their differences, I’m in. The first song I remember hearing on the radio like that was probably Everyday People by Sly and the Family Stone. This one is called East Side West Side by The Mammals.

It’s been 18 days since my last blog post. I think that’s a record, and I’m sorry dear readers. It’s time for me to follow Ma Bell’s advice and reach out. Reach out and touch someone. Earlier in the week I was flashing back to 1979 and my first Sunday afternoon at James’ house. We were riding his mini bike in a cow pasture and talking in goofy cartoon voices. His mom made roast beef and potatoes, and later we listened to the Doors’ long version of Light My Fire in his room. We were just 13. He’s a grandfather now. A couple of days ago my mom sent a text. She was reaching out. I reached back the next day but her ringer was turned down. I’ll try again this weekend.

There is an old stump of a concrete post about 10 feet away from our house. It barely clears the undergrowth now, but I remember when it was taller. I always wondered if it was the remnant of a hitching post. I asked a neighbor once and he said “yeah, I think so,” but he didn’t seem too sure either so I looked up “hitching posts” online. After seeing a bunch of storefronts for bars I found one that someone posted on Pinterest. It has eight sides and an embedded cable like ours does. If anyone asks, I’m going to say “sure! that’s what’s left of our old hitching post! You can’t tether your horse here anymore, but it can probably knock the blade off your lawnmower!

When I bought this t-shirt online, I didn’t realize how PERFECT it would be for Halloween. The parents of our godchildren asked us over for a social distance visit, chili in the garage, and trick-or-treating in their neighborhood. I’m glad I had something to wear. Up in Nebraska, Jenny’s brother Steve and his wife Diane had an ingenious way to distribute candy to kids…It’s amazing what you can do with PVC pipe and crime scene tape. “What’s that you say young lady? Did I hear ‘trick or treat?’ Hold your bag up to the bottom of the pipe and I’ll drop a king sized Snickers bar down the chute for you! Happy Halloween!”

There’s only place to see this custom made ghost! My friend Matt makes all kinds of creations like this inside his house. We recently saw him with his family eating burgers and fries at the Snack Shack a few weeks ago. Jenny and I were out for a walk and I said “Let’s see if Matt has any artwork in his front yard.” Voila!

The closest thing I have to a reoccurring dream is the one where I’m naked and no one notices at first. When I was a teenager the dream went like this:
I’m sitting at a desk taking a test. I’m in high school. Everybody’s looking down at their test. I’m looking down at my test. Then I realize I don’t have any pants on. I’m naked from the waist down. How did I let this happen? How am I going to get out of here and get some pants on before someone sees me? Any minute now somebody’s gonna look up…
I always woke up before anyone saw me. In my late 30′s I started working at a coffeehouse and I was feeling pretty confident with myself. When I had the naked dream again, it went like this:
I am outside my college dorm room. I am not afraid. I am buck naked and I’m running across campus. A handful of people see me and say ‘Dave! This is NOT cool!’ to which I respond ‘I know some people who would think this is REALLY cool!’ Of course I’m thinking of my coffeehouse friend who has just made a snow penis in my front yard.
I am now 54 years old. Friday night I had the most recent version of this dream:
I’m at a gift shop where no one speaks English. I am completely naked again. How does this keep happening? The guy at the register has swimming trunks for sale, but they are all too small and I have no money. I sit down and grab some newspapers to cover my mid-section. A security guard asks me why I’m naked. A handful of people talk to him on my behalf and point at a large man who is offering me his underwear. He will keep his pants and go commando, and I will wear his underwear. His pants don’t smell fresh– but they don’t stink either. I will gladly wear his underwear.

Two weekends ago Jenny and I drove to Joplin to celebrate October birthdays for my Mom, my brother-in-law, and two of my nieces. My sister Darla (we social distanced by bumping “butts” instead of elbows) hosted the whole shebang. We carved pumpkins, drank alcohol, ate brisket, opened presents, and then we went for a walk in the woods. It was great to see everybody. Sara (the one niece who doesn’t have a birthday in October) showed us her hammock, and insists that it’s more comfortable than the bed she used to sleep in. 

She’s my monkey woman, my bat girl, she’s my wife who can hang upside down by her knees. I never tried this as a kid. I was too paranoid of falling on my head. Too afraid of gravity. If only I had gone to the circus, got some sawdust in my hair, seen a horse jump through a ring of fire… maybe then I could have met an old trapeze artist who would have told me that falling feels like flying until you hit the ground… or the safety net– whichever comes first.

Snap… crackle… pop… is not just a cereal with delayed sound effects. Last night I sat in front of our chimenea while Jenny was in a Zoom meeting. My apologies for the lack of definition in this photo. I didn’t realize that you can barely see me. I guess I just wanted to lose myself in this moment and become one with the night and the fire.