I live on Excedrin and Afrin and I have been off of them for over a week and the doctor’s office called three hours before the appointment and postponed another week—the second time they have postponed. Maybe they are holding out for 2014—or at least practicing for 2014.
I need to do a self portrait for the assigned category at the camera club. Now you would think that wasn’t much of a problem as I do them all the time, but this one is supposed to mean something. It’s supposed to be about how you either believe that people see you or how you would like other people to see you. It’s kinda hard when your are not very concerned about either scenario. Picked that up from my darling wife. I’m me, take it or leave it.
I used to have an eye patch that made me look like the Duke in True Grit. Got it when I had Bell’s Palsy. That would probably work. I guess I could buy another one and maybe a pair of overalls—the ones with the bib and the hammer loop. A white shirt and bright red and blue tie, overalls, but what should I hang in the hammer loop—a hammer wouldn’t work—oh yeah, a dinner jacket and maybe a dunce cap. Do you ever think about the material things that say, “You” or in my case, “Me?” The longer I live in the city the more cornpone country I get. Maybe I could toss my hair—well if I had any, paint on some freckles and find a steam of Johnson Grass to chew on. Darn, and I just had the yard cut today.
My Dad used to do something that bugged me—well among other things. He was always upset when relatives came to town and visited all the other relatives or their in-laws or whatever and just swung by the house for a brief visit on the way out of town. Don’t ever recall that they never gave a call or stopped by—but he always felt a little put out. Maybe it was because they always stopped by at dinner time. I don’t know. He always told them, “Well, you see what’s here. If you want to eat it up from the wife and kids, go ahead.” Don’t even know why it bothered me that he would be upset. But, now I understand that acorns never fall far from the tree.
Another one of those days, I get up and say, I’ll go out for breakfast. Then when the doctor rescheduled I said , I’ll run out for a burger. And after Judge Judy went off I actually got dressed to go out to dinner—here I sit with an upset stomach from a very, very, very greasy can of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup. Two thirds of it is still sitting on the table in case I get up the nerve to continue but I won’t. Nothing tastes worse than chicken fat--and now it is cold chicken fat.
|Do You Reckon I Could Convience Anyone That This Is A Self Portrait?|