Time Must Stop! (For a Little While...)

I have been searching online, particularly on ebay, for a device to stop time. There was an old Twilight Zone episode from tv, about a man who acquired (I don't remember if it was given to him, or he found it) an old pocket watch that could stop time. When he pressed on the stem on the top of the watch, time would stop until he pressed it again and it would restart. And he was the only one, while time was stopped, who was not frozen in time, because he held the watch.
That's what I'm looking for. Something that can do that. If I had it, well, whenever I got behind on my cleaning, or wanted to catch up on some of my reading, I could just stop time for a couple or three days, get caught up on my personal stuff, and then bahdda-bing, start time back up. Man, would that come in handy.
Of course, the Twilight Zone episode didn't end well. While time was stopped, the man dropped and broke the watch. So, the poor guy had to spend eternity all alone, because everyone else was frozen. And because time was stopped, he would not get any older, or die. Being alone for eternity would be enough to drive anyone crazy. Probably in a short time.
So I guess I need a device to stop, and of course, restart time, that is unbreakable. Let me know if you find anything like that. I'd appreciate it.

A Good Story Is Worth A Thousand Pictures

Stories are my life. I love a good story, be it told by mouth, a good book, or a movie. Without the creation of stories, or the ability to take the mundane events of our lives and turn them into an interesting story, life would be worse than boring to me. It would be hell. So, to all the creative writers and storytellers out there, most blessed thanks to you a thousand fold.
Today is a pretty darn good day. I had lunch, dim sum (not sure on the spelling), with friends. After which I ran errands, and went to one of my favorite bookstores. Now, I get to watch Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part 1, while I hang out with Edgar. Wow. What a wonderful day.
Plus, there is a possiblity (only a possiblity at this time) that some good friends of mine might be moving back to this area. I am not going to bet on it, but it would be a very nice thing indeed, if they did.
That's all I got at the moment, folks. I'll be back to comment on life, the universe, and everything, at a later time.
Be good, stay out of trouble.

Every Road Has Its Bumps

I am extremely fortunate at this point in my life. There have been very few unpleasant people I have had to deal with more than once in the last half a dozen years or so. Only two come to mind.
Back when I worked in the corporate world, it was a daily occurence to be dealing with the kind of people you would not wish to spend one second of time more in their company than was absolutely necessary. And so, I say, I am very lucky. And for anyone reading this, don't worry. The only person who darkens my world does not read this, nor would he/she care to.
Life is far too short to waste time on unpleasantries.
Moving on, for those blog followers who go to Otis Library for ESOL coversation group on Friday, the Library will be closed. So if you are not there tomorrow (Thursday), I hope I will see you next week.
Anyway, it is not the bumps in the road that are important, but how we handle them. I don't always handle them well. Oh, I don't do a terrible job. I just have a bit of a temper. And when I get angry, things sometimes come out of mouth that surprise me. Sometimes they surprise everyone present. But many times, they make great stories to share later with those who know me well, and love to laugh.
Life is too short to take ourselves seriously. It is the human comedy. So, laugh my friends. Laughter is the key to enjoying life. If you have nothing to laugh about, find something. Or, make something up. And share it with a friend.

Wipe-Out

Wipe-Out is the title of an old instrumental (guitars and drums mostly) rock'n'roll song. There were no lyrics, just someone saying Wipe-Out!, in a high falsetto voice every once in awhile. The term Wipe-out came from surfing (standing up on a fiberglass board while riding big waves in the ocean). When someone was knocked off there board by the wave, or fell off, it was called a wipe-out. We also use the expression wiped-out to mean we are physically and mentally exhausted, which is what happened to me by Sunday morning. As a few of you may know, my apartment has books everywhere. Literally. I'm not kidding. So, last week, starting on Wednesday afternoon, besides keeping my usual schedule, I started boxing up books to take to my favorite used bookstore in Providence, Rhode Island, Cellar Stories. By Friday night I had eleven boxes of books. Unbelievable. And these were just the books I either no longer was interested in reading, or I knew I would never re-read, and also would be too much work to sell on ebay for the value I would get for them. Anyway, Saturday morning I loaded up the car, and drove them down to Providence. Luckily, Mike, who owns Cellar Stories, was able to loan me a few of his employees to help unload the car. Which my poor back and shoulders greatly appreciated. And then, of course, I spent some time wandering around that wonderful bookstore, and bought some more books. After all, it was Cellar Stories annual Spring Sale. The sad part is, those eleven boxes of books barely put a dent in all the books I have. I'm going to need a couple of hundred more years if I plan on reading everything I have. Sad, but true. I just love books. Maybe too much. After all that, I spent the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday laying on the couch moaning and groaning. But I got no sympathy from Edgar, who still insisted on getting his head rubbed as often as possible. I'm almost recovered now. I did go out jogging this morning, and went to the Post Office and the grocery store. And now, I am going back to a reclining position on the couch, and plan on only moving for an emergency. And it better be a really big emergency. Enjoy, my friends!

I Lost My Funny

I was talking to my sister last weekend when she made a comment about my state of mind, which made me realize how morose (bleak, gloomy, sad) I sounded. It was then that I discovered I had lost my funny. I could not remember where I left it. And I was sorely missing it. Without my funny, all my stories became sad and boring. Worse than that, for me all of life appeared to be tragic and pointless. And then, moving on to the worst thing about it: everyone that I talked to would start crying by the time I was done. I was spreading misery all around me. People were beginning to avoid me, some of them running away as soon as they saw me. Even Edgar was ignoring me, and refused to come out of his cage. I looked all over my apartment, in the bureau, in the cupboards, in the bathtub, in the refridgerator, under the bed, even in the medicine cabinet. Then I tried to think of all the places I might have left it. I went to the grocery store, the pharmacy, the gas station, the post office, and even the bookstore. My funny was nowhere to be found. So I did what any sensible person would do, I went to bed, and after laying there feeling like the world was coming to an end, I finally fell asleep. And you know where I found my funny when I woke up? Under my pillow. It's always the last place you look.