In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog:

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Way Back When

I left home when I was eighteen. I had an opportunity to rent a garage apartment for $50 a month, with water paid. Gas ran around $10 a month and I didn't have air conditioning.

The apartment can only be described as a dump. The peeling, plastered walls were a poor insulator from north winds and my furniture was collected from what was discarded at the curb.

Still, it was my home. I was free, working in the oil patch, had some almost dependable transportation and the entire universe was my kingdom.

I had no television, but I did have an electric piano, which I would haul around to band practice, or to a gig. I'd play, but I needed more, so I saved and bought a stereo.

With my limited funds, I was faced with a dilemma. I could afford a few bucks for one album, but I had to be sure my choice was correct. Eventually, I bought Elton John's "Honky Chateau"

I like every song on the album, but one seemed to be the one song that touched a chord. It was never popular, and I don't think it ever made it even close to the top forty.

You might not like it, but it's one of my all time favorites. Bernie Taupin, one of the greatest lyricists, and Elton John created a song that touched my soul.


  1. Let's see if I can leave a comment tonight. So far, so good. But for the last two weeks, after I hit publish, I'm kicked off and the comment doesn't print.......this is just a test....

  2. I took a shot glass, placed a votav candle on top, and started a drip candle. Over time, I'd add another, and use a bent safety pen to sculpture the candle.

    Eventually, the candle was over three feet tall and filled the pie pan I used for the base. I kept it, until my wife - in a fit of anger - threw it at me and it was ruined.

    Thinking back, the hours I spent just listening to music, manipulating my candle and letting my thoughts flow, were a form of meditation and I was more centered with life than I've ever been since.