Hunger is a Bear (Albert by Name)

I discovered this morning that Albert was back. It wasn't a difficult reach (referring to a mental exercise). When I went into the refridgerator to organize breakfast for myself, I found naught (nothing) but the heels (end pieces) from a loaf of bread, a little butter, and half an apple. I didn't get a chance to talk to him about it, because, as usual, he did his magic trick, and disappeared under my bed to sleep away the day. Well, so far anyway. It's only late afternoon.
How does a bear, and he is not a small bear, get under my bed? I can't get under my bed. Not with any kind of comfort and/or ease. And speaking of magic tricks, I didn't hear him come in, and don't even know how he did. In fact, I heard not one sound, and did not wake up at all. There wasn't even a peep out of Eddie, who raises a ruckus whenever anybody drops by. Go figure. I sure can't. 
Anyhow, I don't have to wonder where he is or what he's doing for the moment.  But, damn! Pardon my french (meaning excuse my cursing). I now have to go food shopping. That's no small appetite he has.
Anyroad, I will have a conversation with him about it, but you know the old joke about the 800 pound gorilla: you let him do whatever he wants to do. Albert may not be a gorilla, but I believe the same rule applies to a full grown black bear. At least he's not a grizzly. One small comfort.
So, I'll try to update you on Albert's travel tales (assuming he fills me in), and his continuing war on the Republicans. Hopefully he hasn't eaten too many of them recently. At least there's been nothing in the news about it. Thank God. Not that I would care about him having a couple of Republican "Big Macs", but I sure don't want any law enforcement personnel tracing him back to me. Jeez. That's all I'd need.

Spring Fever is Running High

Somehow, Eddie managed to sneak out of the house yesterday afternoon. I went to the Post Office to drop something into the mail, and when I came back, he was gone. When I tried to question Albert, he just mumbled in bear fashion about not seeing anything. He was busy watching a Jerry Springer rerun. Albert is a bit difficult to understand on the best of days, and yesterday was not one of those. He's been getting quite restless recently due to the warm weather. Probably why not many bears live indoors.
Anyway (anyhow, anyroad; choose one for yourself), when I found Eddie missing, I panicked. I walked around the neighborhood while whistling his favorite tune, If I Only Had A Brain (I'm not sure that's the actual name of the song) from The Wizard of OZ. I asked a few of my neighbor's if they had seen the wandering bird, but had no luck. After that I drove around the surrounding area in ever widening circles. Nothing. I didn't stop looking until the sun was down, and twilight was  setting in. At that point, I would have to say, my heart was breaking, and I was starting to mourn his loss. So I made a strong cup of green tea with lots of honey and lemon, and stepped into a blisteringly hot shower. And when I came back out, there was the little %@#! sneaking back into his cage. Best I can figure, Albert must have let him back in.
I can't ask Albert, however. He's gone. Spring wanderlust finally overcame him. Nope, he didn't leave a note. No goodbye. No see you later. Nothing. These damn animals are going to be the death of me. At the least, they are aging me way before my time...maybe I need a vacation, myself. Bora Bora's sounding pretty good right about now...

WoW! I do love the Walking Dead...

I thank any and all Higher Powers, God included, for entertainment. Today that would be parts of several movies I watched, the Sunday Newspaper (even if it is only the Norwich Bulletin), some wonderful ghostly stories written by Chet Williamson (included in his award winning collection Figures In Rain), and the magnificent television production of the Walking Dead.
On a day like today, when I had trouble sleeping the night before, and symptoms of my auto-immune system disorder are giving me trouble, it's hard to enjoy being alive. But thanks to the wonderful world of entertainment, I can actually and truly appreciate the fact that I am conscious, and breathing. Even if I am having trouble finding any physical comfort.
So, the phenomenon of the Walking Dead...If you don't care for zombies, as in Night of the Living Dead, then this show is not for you. I find it to be one of the best, if not the best, show on tv. As any aficionado of the dead coming back to life knows, there is nothing that lays bare human dynamics (the interactions between people) more than letting loose an army of zombies. You end up sympathizing, even with those people you don't like, because their motivation is showing, so to speak. In other words, even if you despise their actions, you can still see why they act the way they do. But at the least, watching the show makes you appreciate living in a zombie free world...as far as you know...
Another high point of my day was catching some Harry Potter on tv, as well. The story of Harry Potter has a special place in my heart. The bleakness of our scientific, economic and technological way of life has bled a lot of the magic out of the world around us. And anything that reminds me that there is magic in every breath of air we breathe, even if we don't see it, well, to quote a character in Night At The Museum/The Smithsonian, that's just aces with me.
Anyroad (I do love that word), it's past my bedtime, and although Eddie is being quiet behind the sheet screening his cage for the night, I'm sure he prefers I stop typing. So, whatever you do, I hope you enjoy doing it. And, as my late Uncle Louie might have said, for crying out loud, have some fun... 

In the News...

A strange and tragic event reportedly happened in a southwestern Connecticut county last night, resulting in at least twenty deaths, and many more injuries. According to the survivors, they were all attacked by their refridgerators while trying to get a late night snack or meal. Most of those who were injured had broken arms or wrists, some head trauma, as well as people with broken ribs and broken legs, after their refridgerators fell on them, or in the words of one survivor, "The da#* thing jumped on me!"
The authorities are looking into the possibility of a terrorist attack using some kind of hallucinogenic and/or nerve gas, according to one anonymous source. Officially, no one in authority has a comment.
And, in weather, it rained live goldfish in upstate New York, yesterday... 

Life Can Be a Bear ( But I'm Not Complaining)

Yep, I live with both a bird, who is a real sweetheart, and a bear, who isn't. Eddie, my favorite bald cockatiel, and no, he is not completely bald, just on the back part of the top of his head. It's happens to be a genetic thing with piebald (mixed colors) cockatiels. The only problem I have with Eddie, King Eddie to you, is as soon as I start reading a book, he starts interrupting me every few minutes for a variety of reasons, such as helping him out of his cage, helping him back into his cage, putting him on top of his cage, helping him off the top of his cage, and of course, for lots of head rubs.
Albert (the bear), on the other hand, is not always so easy to get along with. There's an old joke, what does an 800 pound bear do? Anything he wants...And no, I haven't weighed him. But in my mind, he is easily 800 pounds. So, I do my best not to get him upset. When he starts to get a bit on edge or grumpy, I contemplate going to live in a cave for awhile. It's almost warm enough.
I have been told that caves can actually be fairly warm places to live, even in winter. I know a young Chinese woman who comes from a very small and poor village in central western China, where some people dig caves out of the hillside to live in and stay warm during the cold winter. After hearing about what those people do to stay warm, how can I possibly complain about living with Eddie and Albert. In comparison, I consider my life a piece of cake.
From talking to many of my friends form other countries and cultures, my opinion of life in the US of A, and the American people (referring just to the people of the United States) has been reinforced. I believe we may be the luckiest people of any country in the world. And in general, we are very spoiled to boot (also).
Enough for now. Albert is watching tv, and Eddie is waiting for me to give him the opportunity to disrupt the remainder of my evening. So it's time to try to read a few pages of my current book. Until next time, keep watching the skies. Good Night...

I Am in Awe of the Beauty All Around Me

Albert, the black bear who shares my apartment upon occasion, told me a story the other day that reminded me of what the word awe actually means. I have heard the word awesome used quite a lot on a regular basis, it seems. And because it is used so much, its power has been watered down (weakened).
Albert told me how as a cub (baby bear), while lost in the woods at night, he stumbled into a clearing. Feeling all alone and scared, he sat down, and looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful, clear night, not a cloud in the sky, and he could see what looked like an infinity of bright, glittering stars way up above his head. And even though he was alone and scared, he could not help but feel incredible awe at the magnificent sight above him.
When Albert told me that story, I remembered doing the same thing when I was a boy. Laying out in a field late at night, and looking up at the night sky. There have been moments in life when the beauty of the world around me has pierced my very being right through the center. I find that in those moments of awe, I also feel a great sadness. And a great joy. I will never be able to express this feeling in words the way I would like. But, I will be forever grateful, and do my best to be worthy, of this great gift of life. 

The Monkey Dream

Dreams, and I don't mean those dreams we have for our future life, are strange messages sent by our subconcious minds in an attempt to communicate with our sleeping conscious minds. The problem is, our conscious minds don't speak the same language. But it does make dreaming an interesting experience, at the least.
I don't always remember my dreams, and even with some of the bizarre ones, I only have a somewhat fuzzy recollection of the events that took place. Take last night, for instance.
 I was being pursued by a couple of someones, whom I took to be some thugs of one kind or another. We ended up on a street bordered on one side by a forest of what must have been nut trees, I have no idea what kind. But suddenly, we, the thugs and I, are being pelted with nuts by a small army of tiny monkeys that are in the trees. The dream then goes a bit fuzzy, and the next thing I know, one of the thugs is holding a gun on me, and we are in some kind of a trailer, or a house shaped like a trailer. I then throw a couple of the tiny monkeys (where I got them, well, let's just say that part is also kind of fuzzy) at the thug, who proceeds to get quite distracted. One of the monkeys gets under his clothes, and he starts doing a very good impression of someone with a severe tiny monkey infestation about his person. Time is very subjective while dreaming, but let's say a minute or two later, the monkey climbs out of his mouth. After which, it seems I made my escape. Probably in the dream, but definitely from the dream, as I then woke up.
And so, what was my subconscious mind trying to tell me? When attacked by thugs I should look for the nearest tiny monkeys to throw? Or maybe, stay the hell away from any nut trees?
What was my subconscious mind doing while my conscious mind was learning English?!! Probably conceiving a plan to confuse and bewilder that rational part of my mind every night for my entire life. Sigh... 
#!@% dreams...but boring they ain't...