A thousand days — give or take is the time Miss K and I spent together. Roughly one fifth of my remaining years most likely; seldom apart for more than a day or two at a time excepting that runaway last spring. Good times with her and that silly dog I must say. 4X down for me now so does that make me a serial husband? Three of the four abandoned me which, I reckon, would implicate me as the provocateur to them that don’t know the whole skinny. Most of y’all are probably thinkin’ ‘Listen at him! There are two sides to every story.’ especially the women as divorce drama is generally gender biased. I know damned well I am about as easy to live with as a basket of pit vipers. I know this. My failure as a multi-husband can be drilled down through all levels to one tacit fact.
I am unbending.
I don’t lie. I honor my word. I keep my pecker in my pants. I take care of those to whom I have pledged a sacred vow. There is a reason they call it a vow, right? The fly in the ointment is I expect others near and dear to me to act the same-same. Defined as old school by most folks, I am told I should relax and chill. Old school is not cool these days. Times they are a -changin’ folks tell me. Old school is passe’ and not necessary in these illuminated times they say. Don’t be so hard core, cut the corners! Yeah, right. Those folks are gonna turn blue and die if they are holding their breath waiting for me to change. Moral integrity does not come and go like a Hollywood fad. It is the core of a man; unrelenting, unforgiving and forever extracting a due measure.
Ever wonder why I don’t have a shit ton of close friends? Well, there ya go. In my simplistic world, talkin’ the talk leads me to expect you will walk the walk. Well, friends and neighbors, I am here to tell ya that is not a realistic expectation around these parts of late. Perhaps the deepest hurt was words spoken out of turn and to any who would listen. Old school and new age clashing loud and long and the union could not hope to survive. I was/am/will always be a trusting soul. A giver by nature made me an easy mark twice over. Finally and forever, the thin veneer was peeled back to reveal the evil shrewess lacking even a vestigial moral compass. Even with all that, my love for the woman will not be dismissed. It will abide through eternity. You do not choose true love, it chooses you and therein lies the rub. And that’s all I have to say about that.
Well as y’all know, there ain’t no snivelin’ in the Oil Patch. Not even a smidge so lets’ explore the positive side of this dust-up.
- There is no more Gordon Ramsay in the NO PRINCESS Palace and the world will NOT implode if the scallops are not seared correctly.
- Running solo means you never put your jammies on and you never go to bed. As such, the bedroom has been converted to convenient storage. Guy bonus!
- The caliche dust can be held at bay inside a trailer house even if accumulated undisturbed over the course of a year. It took 3 hours and emptying the vacuum cleaner 16 times but then again, I have beaucoup time on my hands.
- Dishes, silverware, pots and pans will NOT disintegrate if washed immediately after a cook session. The old wives tale that they must be left to ferment in dirty water for at least 48 hours is proved untrue! God, who knew???????!
- Walking a mile after supper in the blue twilight of the end day makes my heart sing.
- The Battle against the Grow Things in the bathroom is over. I won.
- Hunger is a powerful motivator. You can get by with one spoon, a plastic fork and a GI can opener.
- Expanding further, you can follow a recipe with only a tablespoon as measure. No Chinese arithmetic required.
- Amazon is the Curmudgeon’s friend. They have everything necessary to re-stock the Palace. ( Click the links dammit!)
- Dead fly bodies may be removed for burial. You need not let them remain at the scene of the murder until they dry to dust.
- Food does expire – even swathed like an Egyptian mummy and properly refrigerated. A refrigerator is not a sarcophagus.
- The smoking of big fat cigars is now permissible. See accompanying proof.
- The world will not end if the Big Ass Suburban is not out running the roads every other day.
- My generator sings. The Keurig ran away.
- You sleep best when your karma is squared away.
- Staying outside during the heat of a South Texas summer in deference to another who cares not a whit sucks. A/C rules!
- Greed and avarice are most despicable traits and will eat you alive.
- My attraction to sharp witted, easy on the eyes, curvacious younger women continues undiminished.
‘S alright folks. Everything is good, actually damned good. I feel like strappin’ on another good adventure. I do believe I have the grit left to do at least one more.
Parting shot……… The all time favorite posts to the right of the page are there for a reason – y’all liked them and voted accordingly. They get read the most of any posts on the blog. Now, if I was wanting to tilt the karmic universe so this post appeared in perpetuity for everyone to read again and again and again, I would tell y’all to vote it to the TEN.
End Note: Feelin’ Alright by Joe Cocker from the With a Little Help from my Friends cd. Ohhhhhhhhh yeah. He of the spastic and tie dyed at his best.
Possibly Related Posts:
- Unconditional Love Abides
- No estas aqui.
- Readers Write – The Death of the Last Real Old Time Beer Joint in Dallas
- The Big Hails
- Proud o’ This