Oh Sure, Access Is A Little Limited...But Look At That View!

   It's been said that the best investment on Earth, is earth. However...there is that little sticking point about location, location, location. Much better to own a quarter acre on the coast than a thousand acres in the desert.

Rocky's Last Nap

 

The Gist Of Yet Another Weird Dream I Had

   Jerry held one end of the bright red, extremely lightweight length of four-inch wide finish line tape and excitedly watched as the group of eight women sprinted towards him. At the opposite end of the tape stood his friend and fellow Pepperdine university student Bobby "Murph" Murphy, who equaled if not slightly exceeded his own enthusiasm for such a simple task.

   It was the late 1970's and both of the young men had been chosen from a pool of volunteers to hold up the finish line tape for the women's 100 meter dash. Primarily because both of them were tan, tall, fit, and looked like central casting's idea of what two young male California college students should look like.

   Neither of the young men could believe their luck. The group of young women, all of them beautiful television or movie stars and all of them clad in skimpy satin shorts and tight tank tops charging at full speed down the individual lanes of the straightway of the oval track were a hetero young man's delight, just as the producers of this "sporting" event planned.

   Both Jerry and Murph tried their best not to be to overwhelmed by the presence of the celebrities - Richard Dawson, Mike Farrell and Bill Bixby were gathered together with a few other actors standing at the finish line (Jerry was certain that one of them was Tony Dow, but couldn't imagine how his agent was able to get him involved), each of them holding stop watches and paying rapt attention to the race.

   Murph's smile broadened as he watched the gratuitous bouncing of the ample bosoms of the energetic competitors, some of which were prominently featured on posters he had tacked to the walls of his dorm room.

   The women were fairly evenly matched until fifty meters in, when Susan Saint James (who had to be over thirty thought Jerry) and Harlee McBride broke from the pack. Both of them had great form and Murph actually interrupted his lust-filled thoughts to comment to himself that both of those actresses must have ran track in high school or college, or had at least worked with a track coach for a couple of weeks before this race.   

    As the women got within twenty meters of the finish line Jerry and Murph held the tape up a little higher as per the instructions of one of the producers, who wanted the finish to be filmed as close to dead center breast height of the winner as possible (his exact words were, "I want the winner of this race to break the tape with her nipples!")

    Saint James and McBride appeared to be dueling it out for first when suddenly Adrienne Barbeau came out of nowhere and pulled alongside both of the leaders. It was neck and neck for the last five meters but Barbeau appeared to have won the race by a nose...neck and neck and a nose not being the descriptives that the producer used, btw.  

    Richard Dawson, Ted Shackleford and Pepper Martin approached Greg Harrison, who was officiating the race, and gave him the individual times for the finishers. Randi Oakes finished in last place, which had Harrison cracking up for some reason.

    

   

Crass, Exploitive Words Regarding A Destructive Tragedy In The Kingdom Of Crass Exploitation

                            They called up the fire department and screamed 

                                     "Our house is burning down!"

         "Can't do a thing for ya'" was the only reply

                            Warren Zevon could not have imagined the horror of all this 

                                                      When he was writing about the apocalypse 

                            L.A. was eventually going to have to face

                     It's happening now and all that can be done

         Is the filming of the event 

                                        By a thousand videographers

                             Drones in the sky capturing dramatic 

                                                          Footage of the flames 

                                                          Lapping at the edges of infinity pools

                            That will be used for the exciting docudrama

                                          To be seen exclusively on Netflix in the coming months

         Replete with multiple interviews with some very famous people 

                                                            Who lost nearly everything in the conflagration

                                                            Caused by excessively dry conditions 

                      (In an irrigated desert prone to periodic drought)

                                         And swirling dry Santa Ana winds 

         Brave men and women doing everything they can

                                                         To try to control the uncontrollable

                    The cameras are rolling as residents are forced to leave

                                          Their homes and memories behind

                                          Pictures of the destruction of beachfront mansions

                           Posted on Instagram, X, YouTube and of course TMZ 

         Eventually, maps of the inferno's meandering path of devastation

                           Will be available for the interested at the corner of Sunset & Church

                                           Not too far from the Hotel Angeleno (four stars)

                                           If it's still there, that is

On Being A Grown Man Who Plays With Words In His Spare Time

The not too horrible or painful experience that was his life

Summed up with multisyllabic words like a Swiss pocketknife

Engulfing him in guilt and other self-inflicted strife

There was something about having fun at another's expense

Personal turmoil long-lost counterfoil sugar-coated snakeoil

He had time now to indulge in his whimsey

He'd publish them all no matter how flimsy

Maybe even find a way to sneak in djibouti

Lecturing about poison pens to the secretary of defense

Razor blades hand grenades transparent masquerades

All the elements necessary for getting along with others

Teachers insisting they sing in harmony like the Everly brothers

For wishing violence against their angry fathers and absent mothers

As if by encouraging peace they were assuaging a need for penitence

Dark purple shadows vegetarian commandos coloratura sopranos

That girl he only knew by her street name Ton o' Lovin' Brenda

Looked like a friendly overfed rat but lived her own agenda

She couldn't care less what others thought didn't keep a corrigenda

What she lacked in education she made up for in common sense

Sometimes drunken mimes quietly whisper sober rhymes 

 

The Go Big Or Go Home Pizza Party

                                              Not the actual pizza, for illustration purposes only

    It was his birthday and Blaine had invited nine friends over to help him celebrate, with specific instructions that no gifts were to be brought - he was aggressive in his assertion that he had everything he needed or wanted, and just the company of his friends to mark the occasion was all he desired. 

   Of course everyone brought something - mostly bottles of fairly decent wine such as a couple of Caymus 2020 Cabs, A Lail 2016 Cab, and several bottles of his favorite, the 2014 Vaso Cellars Cab. 

   He did not make the slightest pretense of objection to any of those gifts, as he knew true affection was behind everyone of them and he had long ago developed the graciousness to accept gifts that were from the heart despite his prior request for no gifts (a request he made every year on his birthday that was ignored every year on his birthday - it had become somewhat of a tradition).

   He asked everyone gathered around the large round table if they all liked pizza. Everyone answered that yes, pizza was indeed a favored food.

   Then he asked each individual present how many slices they could eat at one sitting.

   Questions were asked about how big the slices would be and with what /how many toppings, but the most common answer given was three slices.

   He then asked the group as a whole if everyone was hungry now, and, as we had all been asked over for dinner, we all naturally answered in the affirmative.

   That's when the doorbell rang. He excused himself to answer it and returned in thirty seconds or so, leading two people who were carrying one large box each. Both boxes appeared to be two inches thick, and two feet by four feet long.

   He introduced the two people as Jay and Dee and added that they were from a food service he had found online that specialized in creating giant portions of specific popular foods. Then he asked four of us to get up from our seats and clear a space in order to allow Jay and Dee to put the boxes down.

   Once on the table the two boxes were opened, revealing one half of a giant pizza in each box.

   The two halves, which were both on large pieces of cardboard that mirrored the pizza dimensions, were placed on the table to form one whole four foot in diameter pizza, and it looked...well, monstrously delicious.

   After a quick, rousing rendition of Happy Birthday, plates were passed around and we all dug into the biggest pizza any of us had ever seen.

   And even though we ate three (or four, or five) pieces each, there was quite a bit left over, so we were all sent home with enough slices for lunch the next day...and the next day after that.

   It was epic.

    

Every Good Thing Has To Start Somewhere

   The whole thing with New Years resolutions is to give one a jumping off point to either: A) Get started on something that is primarily for personal benefit such as taking better care of one's health or finances or relationships, or B) Get involved in something that benefits the greater good such as volunteering to assist a charity or even just bringing a trash bag along on your daily constitutional in order to pick up litter as you stroll.

   At least that's the way I see it - of course, I could be wrong, which would not be a surprise to anyone.

   The point is, at least for myself, is the get started/get involved part. New Years Day provides a starting line, with the starting gun going off at midnight of December 31st.

   Unless of course the New Year inexplicably brings with it a wicked head cold and you can't get yourself up to do much of anything. That happens, and it's a pain in the patookas.

   But it's only a temporary delay.