Eddie Arana, Rick Thibodeau, & Chris Bakunas San Diego, Ca. March 2012

Eddie Arana, Rick Thibodeau, & Chris Bakunas San Diego, Ca. March 2012
Eddie Arana, Rick Thibodeau, & Chris Bakunas at Luche Libre Taco Shop in San Diego, March 2012

Friday, December 30, 2016

Was The Room Spinning Or Is It My Head?

Tonight, Tonight

The 2016 reunion tour continues...friends I had not seen in half a decade or more popping up like dandelions in a meadow after a summer shower...beautiful to see, beautiful to experience...

Except for S.A. - That dude is such a reprobate....could'a' gone another ten years without having to deal with him.

Thursday, December 29, 2016

A Particulary Windy Day

Good fences make good neighbors...bad fences make wind fodder...

Monday, December 26, 2016

The Lure Of The Unknown

The desire to travel, to explore, to bear witness to majestic sights that I'd read about in newspapers and books starting from a very early age, has been a driving passion of mine since I was old enough to get on a bus alone and just go somewhere, whether it was a few miles across town or a thousand miles or more up the coast.

Which is one the reasons I am baffled by people I know who not only do not like to travel, but have actually never traveled. 

And by never traveled, I mean that these are people who have lived in one and only one neighborhood their entire lives, and have rarely left it, ever.

To have never felt the urge to see the sun setting on a different horizon or to have never longed to look across an ocean in the opposite direction from that which you were born are as inconcieveable to me as never wanting to try a different flavor of ice cream, 

Yet, I know quite a few people who are absolutely content with not ever going across town, much less going across the country. Needless to say, most of those people have never even had a passport.

This past year I was fortunate enough to be able to experience a little of the heartland of the United States during two much-too-brief visits to Iowa & Illinois, and those two much-too-brief visits were like sampling a delicious new flavor of ice cream in that now I am literally craving for a chance to go back to Dubuque and Galena, to drive along the small two-lane highways and byways of the tri-state area, admiring the well-cared for lawns and marveling at the endless miles of rolling hills.

I tried to explain that desire to a friend at a Christmas shindig the other day, but I all I got out of her was rolled eyeballs and a disbelieving "You have got to be kidding me, why would you want to ever leave Colorado, especially to go to such dull and boring places?"

To which I replied, "How can you say those are dull and boring places if you've never even been there?" 

Her response? "Because they're not here, and whatever's not here is probably dull and boring."

Which of course lead me to mentally cross her off my list of people I will be mailing "Wish you were here" postcards to when I take my next vacation.

Sunday, December 25, 2016

Say "Parmesan!"

Doing my best to embarass the family...

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Friday, December 23, 2016

The Second Dragon Of Christmas

Seriously, what are the chances? Driving by one Dragon dressed up for Christmas, sure, that can happen, as the picture I posted of the first Christmas dragon I saw earlier this month will attest...but two?

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Professional Interaction

She sat down right next to the stranger without hesitation. After a few seconds of fidgeting with her jacket, purse, & cell phone, she turned to the stranger and said, "So, you got a name?"

The stranger turned to her slowly, purposefully. "Sure," he answered, "it's Leif."

"Leif?" She repeated back to him. "As in, Leif Erickson, the Viking?"

"Nope," he replied, "Leif as in Leif me the hell alone."

She rolled her eyes at his retort, gathered up her things and moved a few seats down the bar, happy to oblige his cranky old ass.

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Epitaph In D Minor

Once again I'm walking in to see my Doctor               
                                      With whiskey on my breath
And once again I'm sure he's going to tell me 
                I'm drinking myself to death 
And I'm going to have to remind him of what I said 
                       The last time we went through this little dance                                  "What's a man to do Doc, 
                       When he has already blown his last chance?"
                       Again, again, again
                       For the last time
"I've already blown my last chance."
                               But my Doctor doesn't listen
                               He just looks at me and shakes his head
                       Tells me I'm the keeper of my own prison
                       And that I'm making my own bed
                                     Yeah, I know
                                     I know
                                     I know
                                     I know
                       But I've already blown my last chance

Saturday, December 17, 2016

Mostly Icy, Very Dicey

There is a chance, I suppose, that there are one or two people new to the state who might not suspect that heavy snowfall coupled with below freezing temperatures might add up to ice on the roadways...but fortunately for them the state put up these handy signs to alert them to that very fact.

Wonder how the drivers of yesteryear worked out what the road conditions would be like after a night of heavy snowfall and sub-freezing temps? Probably with some sort of ice divining rod or like primitive tool I suppose.

Friday, December 16, 2016

The Interrogation

He asked the question directly, forcefully.

   "Are you now or have you ever been...a         hypocrite?"

His eyes flitted about the small room before he forced himself to stare intently at his questioner and reply just as directly, just as forcefully, as he had been asked.  

   "Yes, yes I am now, yes I have been, and       yes, I probably will be again in the         future."

Eyes locked on eyes for seconds that seemed to stretch into minutes. Then he turned away from the mirror and walked out of the bathroom...back into the living room where the young woman was waiting patiently to continue the "discussion."

Monday, December 12, 2016


A cold wind wailing like a tortured cat
Trapping garbage up against a chain-link fence
Sun blotted out of the sky by dark rolling clouds
No reason to be out, no reason to be about
It's a day unfit for man, for beasts, 
                  For heroes or villains
                                         Cracks of lightning
                                         Booms of thunder
                                         Howls of the dogs
                                         Left out in yards
                      Rain lashing the trees
               Into giving up their leaves
                  Rain overflowing gutters 
       Washing clean the filthy streets
       Of a city desperately
       In need of a bath
                         Hard rain
                         Like a man obsessed
                         Hard rain
                         Like a woman possessed


Sunday, December 11, 2016

I Wanted To Hear Her Voice

Not the voice full of contempt or anger, not the voice full of disappointment

I wanted to hear the voice that said I love you

As I had heard (and ignored)

All those years ago

But it didn't happen 

The voice I heard was full of disappointment

Full of a sadness that defied description

Full of sorrow, regrets and remorse

A lack of innocence

A lack of truth

Somewhat fitting

Saturday, December 10, 2016

Fragments Of A Mystery

He had woken up in an elevator. It was stopped on the garage level of a 36 story office building located in the heart of Chicago.

His wallet was still on his person, as was were his car keys. But he could not locate his cellphone.

The events of the night before were hazy at best. He was sure he had met up with a few co-workers at a bar near west Barry & north Racine, but for the life of him he could not remember who had actually been there, or how long they had all stayed, or where he had gone afterward.

Running his hands through his hair he reflexively checked his head for bumps, but he felt nothing unusual. He also checked out his face in the highly polished steel of the elevator doors, but did not notice anything amiss.

He pushed the open door button and walked out into the parking garage after the doors did just that.

Looking around at all the cars in the the spots near the elevator bank it suddenly occurred to him that he could not recall what kind of car he drove. Wasn't it a sedan? Maybe a Toyota Camry? What color was it? Blue?

He fished his keys out of the pocket he had felt them in when he had patted himself down and found two keys to two different vehicles on a key ring that also held what looked like 3 keys for doors of either a home or a business.

The two keys to vehicles were both the type with remote fobs. He pushed the horn button on both of them and waited. A full thirty seconds of silence passed before he tried again. Still nothing. 

Momentarily he thought he would walk down every row in the garage but then it occurred to him that this might be just one level of many levels of a large parking garage.

Then he thought that there might be something in his wallet that could help - maybe a parking stub or a receipt for payment.

He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. The familiarity of his wallet in his hands helped to calm a slight panic that had been slowly building.

Then he looked at his Drivers License. The picture was him, he was certain of that, but there was something a little bit off.

The picture was the same face he had gazed at in the polished steel of the elevator doors, but the hair...his hair...looked grayer in the picture, and his hairline appeared to be a little more receded.

Putting his fingers to his face he traced them over his features as if he were looking for a lost needle in a shag carpet. He felt smooth, soft skin on his forehead and around his eyes, and morning stubble on otherwise taught cheeks and chin.

The picture on his Driver's License, however, showed wrinkles and creases on a face - his face. The picture on the Driver's License showed a face that had to be at least twenty years older than the one he was tracing his fingers over.

Friday, December 9, 2016

Oh, The Good Ol' Excesses Of The 1970's

I'd never seen a line of coke in the sky...until today.

Monday, December 5, 2016

On The Wrong Way Down

She's got a big shiny shovel in her hands
Going to dig a hole big and round
Big enough so that she won't mess up her hair 
When she buries her head in the ground

Two good eyes that can't see anything
A beautiful voice that can't sing
Two good ears that can't hear a word
A generous heart living on a shoestring

Sells herself short, may as well 
No one is buying anyway
Sells herself short, everyday
May as well give it away
Sells herself short like an underpaid
Actress in a one-man play

And a band of winos sing:

Live your life respectfully
Live your life with clarity
Try not to be totally blind
Live your life respectfully
Live your life with clarity
Try not to be totally blind
Live your life respectfully
Live your life with clarity

Try not to be totally blind

That's all I've got