Check This Going Gets Article


I'm blessed. If life was fair, I'd be dead.

‎"If you have something to do that is worthwhile doing, don't
talk about it, but do it. After you have done it, your friends
and enemies will talk about it."--George W. Blount

Up at 8:51 a.m. I went into the bathroom, this morning, to splash water on my face, looked down and saw Joan's curling iron on the sink. Groggy as heck, I reached down to move the thing, and it bit me: how stupid to have started my day by grabbing the hot end of a heating iron! It was a painful experience that certainly woke me right up. Coffee please!!

I am home from my six day vacation to Panama City, Florida. The turtles tank needs cleaning. Jaggar tore a hole in Joan's stockings, this morning as she was getting ready for work. The cats are always angry when I get home from a vacation. My great neighbor fed the cats, and turtles, and visited with them, while I was gone, but I guess that is not enough for the cats. Kobain did not jump on my chest, when I lay down last night, and demand to be petted, and scratched. It is so unlike him. I guess that was his way of having an Occupy Mikel K movement.

It took us five hours to get to Panama City from Atlanta, and 7 /12 hours to get back. We got stuck on some two lane road in Alabama that greatly slowed us down, and we almost lost our life on that road. As we drove north, a car turned off its lights as it approached us, and then, at a million miles an hour, veered into our lane just barely missing hitting us us. It drove off behind us, in our lane, light-less. What a bummer it would have been to have quit drinking nineteen years, and nine months ago, to die in Alabama at the hands of a drunk driver: a weird kind of Karma maybe?

My friend, Eric Boje, pointed out that whoever was in the car that veered so dangerously at us was trying to run us off the road so that they could rob us. Can you imagine? There are people out there willing to kill you in order to be able to take your wallet, or purse.

About ten minutes later, Joan and I pulled into a gas station to ask someone if we were on the right road to Atlanta, or completely lost in the bowels of Alabama. She approached the car nearest us, and as she walked to the half open driver's side door, she saw that the man sitting behind the wheel had a handgun on one knee, and was counting hundred dollar bills on the other knee. Joan interrupted her the direction of her intention, and asked someone else if we were on the right road home. It was a weird one-two Alabama punch to the gut: nearly being robbed while driving over the speed limit, and running into a gun at a gas station.

At one of the stops that we made, I realized that I was the only man with hair half way to his back, who was wearing a peace sign. I stood out like more than a sore thumb. Spying a police car at one stop I thught to myself how bad it would suck to wind up in an Alabama Jail.

Memories from The Beach: ‎"Look at The Pelican, on the deck, I said to Joan. She looked, and said, "That's not A Pelican, it's a Blue Herring.". I am such A Nature Boy.

I am reading on the internet, from The Beach, that we can, now, buy liquor in Atlanta on Sundays, or rather, that you can. Well, I can buy it, but I won't drink it. This is our last day at The Beach. We have had a great time. I love sand. I love the sea. I do miss, the city, though, and my way of life there. It will be good to reunite with my dogs, cats, and turtles.