It’s been awhile, if ever

There is a time and place for seeing a stranger’s bare ass. You need to be in a certain mindset, like spring break.

So, when I sat in my car at the gas station parking lot, packing my cigarettes before I went to work let’s just say I was lessed than thrilled when I was full on mooned. It was close quarters too.

Some punks in a SUV next to me. They honked the horn. I looked and WHAP! Cheeks, balls and everything.

I wish I could say I did something witty but I didn’t. I just turned away as they laughed. Eventually I looked over and smiled a bit shaking my head. The mooner got out of the SUV, waved to me and walked toward the gas station, treating me to another mooning.

Keep on Truckin’, Snook

Before Christi left for work she told us to enjoy our PBS television show, It’s a Big Big World. She knows I dislike it (although I will admit they do have a nice easy to navigate website). Of course the show’s message is good (we’re all different, but you know, we can still love each other). The main character, the main dude if you will, is a deadhead tree sloth named, Snook. He has this shaggy mullet and at the end of every show he spins around singing some lame ass song that recaps the themes we learned today. As the credits roll, the opening rift to Franklin’s Tower starts and Snook fires up a big joint, gives us a knowing wink and hightails it to the nearest strip club, or at least that’s what the producers do.

Watching PBS in the morning is a part of our new routine. Rhen sort of watches but not too closely, which makes me happy. I mean seriously, I don’t care if it is PBS. Right now we’re (or more like I am) watching Arthur which is a step up from Snook’s Happy Love-In but Athur is sort of a lame ass too. Thankfully, Rhen is much more interested in his books.

Snow is on the way, and it’s so cute when we talk about it

The other day I overhead what appeared to be a disaffected young hipster (with all the trappings of coolness) talk earnestly of the one to three inches we are to recieve today. Too-freaking-cute. Now, I’m not an outsider observing this yearly ritual, I’m just a guilty as the rest of them, but people are starting to talk about the impending first snow storm of the season. And it’s so freaking cute. Young and old, the poor and the rich. Democrat and Republican. It is one of the few things here in Minnesota that truly unites us.

Sweet Routine

Ah, back to the drudgery of routine. I love it. Coffee at 5:30 (that’s morning, not evening Rachel), waiting for Rhen to wake up and start my day for real. Public Radio is on and droning, “Habitat for Humanity, blah blah blah, support for NPR, greater good, blah blah blah.” We’re not members because we’re broke we can’t fit it into our budget. But Barbara F. is paying our share right now, and we’ve talked to her about it, and she’s cool with it.

Looking forward to getting out with Rhen this morning and taking some shots. Looks to be a fabulous day. This is the week we were waiting for all mushy spring and sweltering summer. Its that one pristine week in autumn when everything about Minnesota and its oddball uneven seasons are justified. I believe the word in everyone’s mind is “glorious” and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration. Fall is here, but it doesn’t stay for long. Soak it up.