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Quite a strange Independence Day here. Today’s agenda called for fun and games with C_’s sister and kids at a State park. Nix that. Rhen didn’t feel well and then proceded to run a high fever. Later in the day I took his temperature. The thermometer reached 101 before Rhen demanded that I remove it from his armpit. I’m guessing it would’ve landed around 102 or 103. That’s Fahrenheit by the way. Of course, of course.

The rest of the day was sort of like the ghost. We drifted through rooms, quietly. Tending to our sick little bird. C_ ran for groceries while Rhen and I watched some Curious George DVDs together. We tried to take a nap in the afternoon. I fell asleep for 15 minutes. After I woke up I stared out the window for about an hour before getting up. I went downstairs and ate 3 popsicles while surfing the internet.

At this point C_  was on sick duty with Rhen. He demanded her. After a few hours of caretaking C_ finally decided it would be best if she went to bed with him. As C_ brushed her teeth and washed her face I laid in bed with Rhen while he ate a piece of plain bread and took sips of his Sprite. He spoke quietly and politely.

More bread, please. More Sprite, please.

He finished eating and sighed. Called for Momma in his quiet voice. C_ came into the dark room and laid next to us. I gave Rhen a kiss on his head, apologized and quietly left the room.

You just know what kind of day you’re in for when you wake up with the Pixies “Bone Machine” in your head. You know that part, “He buy me a soda, buy me a soda and try to molest me in the parking lot! Yep YEP YEP YEP!”

That’s a little like me right now.

Last night I had a dream that I had met Jack White. He was lying on his back in a small rowboat playing guitar and singing while slowly drifting down the river. It was a bluesy tune and it sounded good to me.

I met with his friend on the shore and we watched him beach the boat. Jack White stumbled onto the shore and purposely smashed his guitar upon a rock. He then fell flat on his face.

I was told by his friend that they were working on a new album and asked if I might have any suggestions for material since it wasn’t going so well.

“I WANT SOMETHING!”

“What do you want?”

“NOTHING!”

Of all the stupid things to have happened in the world, I rank Jimi Hendrix’s accidental overdose and subsequent death right up at the top.

Each time I listen to his music I feel like anything is possible and I don’t feel so badly about the mistakes I’ve made in the past.