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The little things…
- Thread starter Chicory Blue
- Start date
Me too.
Even better is that scenario in Hanover, New Hampshire on a Saturday afternoon making the short walk to the stadium for a Dartmouth football home game.
Grab a hot cocoa and some popcorn on the way to your seat, then settle in for a couple hours of pure football Ivy League style.
-Mike
For me, growing up in SW Pennsylvania, I always loved the onset of late fall. Cold, cloudy, a nip in the breeze, the aroma of dead leaves as I tromp through the woods, blanketed by steely gray skies. My favorite time of the year. (Also because that marks the beginning of hockey season, too!)
I miss that scenario now that I'm out here in sunny two-season Arizona, where it's either hot or not-as-hot. But clear and sunny has it's advantages, too. Especially for these old bones.
I miss that scenario now that I'm out here in sunny two-season Arizona, where it's either hot or not-as-hot. But clear and sunny has it's advantages, too. Especially for these old bones.
Waking up in the pre-dawn twilight starts my day nicely.
Part of my morning ritual is to always check the sunrise to watch the day begin. If it's a nice one I take picture of it and text it to my sleepyhead wife and son so they can see what they missed.
From there on it's all gravy.
Part of my morning ritual is to always check the sunrise to watch the day begin. If it's a nice one I take picture of it and text it to my sleepyhead wife and son so they can see what they missed.
From there on it's all gravy.
Sitting here browsing talkbass, both of my dogs are curled up, sleeping next to me in the room. They both have little snores going on and occasionally one trips out in some sort of dream twitching and growling and yipping in their sleep. I feel grateful and happy about that.
Behind the Bastards. The bastard's behind behind the bastards — the listing goes on: apostrophes, grammar, glamour, word order, order, bastards, a little focus, a little listening ear, a little learning.
And so, good teachers. Little things, in the best possible way. Those who don't like learning, who don't support teachers, are also little things, contrasting, minuscule, insignificant.
Poesy. Somebody stop me — paging Jim Carey. I already have the mask, Jim, and the toy dog. Laughter, little ripples, twinkling inklings. I give up. There are no little things.
Still, somethings never change. Those in my heart, you know who you are, all these little things, never ever leave, take up the infinite space on the head of a pin. Like the best words in the best order, the best teachers in the best order, you help to order the chaos, and so make the world. It's all a dream, not insignificant.
Bargains in the real world. I could visit a hustler's universe, cough up the dough, line those pockets there, gain some knowledge, some supplements. I've done it before. Where did the money, where did the time go? Lying there, alongside hope, keeping hope company, at the bottom of the harbor. Conversely, I just scored a swag of brand new gig-bags — paid a pittance. I know where that money goes — towards the launching of a little, beat fleet. It's now in the bag. I'll need a needle and thread, pardon the pun — another little thing. But, with just a little needling, and a trusty thimble or two, my universe is on the mend.
Big Brother's taught me so much. But I've learnt so little, in reflection. Then again (If only I'd thunk before I sunk), my fellow mellow submarine's a soft-top, it's amphibious, it's multi-level, self-saucing, solar-powered, supersonic, with quantummy, hymenopteran, dragonfly wings, lovely beating little things.
And, when one needs a lift. One should always take a depression lift — they're safe, they're common, round any corner you'll find one, don't panic, they're always on the ground floor waiting, always open, no door, always with only one functioning feely button. One button, no more, one hard-bitten bastion of a button, one boisterous, bouncing, bellybutton. That one little button, that one that always knows, behind the clothes, that one that sometimes shows; whenever pressed, towards one's fate, depression, like a fog, abates, and, when taken with a grain of salt, you'll feel a little, loving jolt, and up up pup, and away you'll go.
NB: If it all gets too hard, see kelp —
PS: I'm tempted to apologize here. But I won't. Thanks for being there, y'all. Good going
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I see the brownies are kicking in. Good Morning.Behind the Bastards. The bastard's behind behind the bastards — the listing goes on: apostrophes, grammar, glamour, word order, order, bastards, a little focus, a little listening ear, a little learning.DangerousLittle things, but not insignificant. Coinkydrinking deeply satisfies the Aha! soul.
And so, good teachers. Little things, in the best possible way. Those who don't like learning, who don't support teachers, are also little things, contrasting, minuscule, insignificant.
Poesy. Somebody stop me — paging Jim Carey. I already have the mask, Jim, and the toy dog. Laughter, little ripples, twinkling inklings. I give up. There are no little things.
Still, somethings never change. Those in my heart, you know who you are, all these little things, never ever leave, take up the infinite space on the head of a pin. Like the best words in the best order, the best teachers in the best order, you help to order the chaos, and so make the world. It's all a dream, not insignificant.
Bargains in the real world. I could visit a hustler's universe, cough up the dough, line those pockets there, gain some knowledge, some supplements. I've done it before. Where did the money, where did the time go? Lying there, alongside hope, keeping hope company, at the bottom of the harbor. Conversely, I just scored a swag of brand new gig-bags — paid a pittance. I know where that money goes — towards the launching of a little, beat fleet. It's now in the bag. I'll need a needle and thread, pardon the pun — another little thing. But, with just a little needling, and a trusty thimble or two, my universe is on the mend.
Big Brother's taught me so much. But I've learnt so little, in reflection. Then again (If only I'd thunk before I sunk), my fellow mellow submarine's a soft-top, it's amphibious, it's multi-level, self-saucing, solar-powered, supersonic, with quantummy, hymenopteran, dragonfly wings, lovely beating little things.
And, when one needs a lift. One should always take a depression lift — they're safe, they're common, round any corner you'll find one, don't panic, they're always on the ground floor waiting, always open, no door, always with only one functioning feely button. One button, no more, one hard-bitten bastion of a button, one boisterous, bouncing, bellybutton. That one little button, that one that always knows, behind the clothes, that one that sometimes shows; whenever pressed, towards one's fate, depression, like a fog, lifts, and, when taken with a grain of salt, you'll feel a little, loving jolt, and up up pup, and away you'll go.
NB: If it all gets too hard, see kelp —
Lastly, trouble. To ignore-rantly round this off, a most exquisite little thing is trouble. Trouble's taught me, more than anything else. Isn't that ironic. It's a little thing. My mother was trouble and a teacher. Love you mum.
PS: I'm tempted to apologize here. But I won't. Thanks for being there, y'all. Good going
slobake
resident ... something
Little things that make me happy?
-the excited greetings from our grandpuppies when we first see them
-a text from one of our kids sharing some good news or accomplishment
-when at the family cabin, my daily AM kayak ride on Lake Superior, my favorite spot
-alone time in my music room, surrounded by items that bring great memories, family photos, ticket stubs, old LP's, collectibles, books, dvd's of favorite movies
-alone time at night with my bride, knowing we raised 3 awesome kids that are starting their own lives
-a clean kitchen, yep I'm OCD, my bride cooks and I do the cleaning, it's our daily routine
-summer, just don't like winter and makes me love warm days and sunshine even more every year
-an afternoon nap
-the excited greetings from our grandpuppies when we first see them
-a text from one of our kids sharing some good news or accomplishment
-when at the family cabin, my daily AM kayak ride on Lake Superior, my favorite spot
-alone time in my music room, surrounded by items that bring great memories, family photos, ticket stubs, old LP's, collectibles, books, dvd's of favorite movies
-alone time at night with my bride, knowing we raised 3 awesome kids that are starting their own lives
-a clean kitchen, yep I'm OCD, my bride cooks and I do the cleaning, it's our daily routine
-summer, just don't like winter and makes me love warm days and sunshine even more every year
-an afternoon nap
Not had that for years ! I'll take just waking up . Simple things for me . A smile from a stranger or a kind word the make me remember that the whole world is not full of a**holes . A long walk with the dogs . A pint in a warm pub in the winter . A few hours watching the village cricket with a nice bottle of claret in the summer .
Going for a cruise in a hot rod (or any cool car) on a nice summer day. Whether by myself or with passengers, It's very satisfying just tooling around with no place to go, looking at the scenery or showing off your bichin' ride to the public.
Cranking the tunes on a premium stereo adds to the enjoyment. I love playing the White Zombie album, La Sexorcisto. It's perfect cruising music.
Then, you can experience the exhilaration of opening up on some lonely country road, mashing the go pedal and feeling your body get smooshed back in your seat.
My entire adult life, I've always had at least one street rod to cruise around in just for the pleasure of it. Among them, I've had a 70s Camaro, a Celica GT, a 68 Mustang fastback with a 390, several Mustang GTs from the 80s and 90s, and most recently, a pair of Mercedes Benz 450 SELs and a heavily modified Merkur XR4ti.
Two years ago I sold my last cruiser car and probably won't be getting another.
They just cost way too much, and I also don't have a garage, which makes it difficult to work on a vehicle, and I have to park on the street.
Cranking the tunes on a premium stereo adds to the enjoyment. I love playing the White Zombie album, La Sexorcisto. It's perfect cruising music.
Then, you can experience the exhilaration of opening up on some lonely country road, mashing the go pedal and feeling your body get smooshed back in your seat.
My entire adult life, I've always had at least one street rod to cruise around in just for the pleasure of it. Among them, I've had a 70s Camaro, a Celica GT, a 68 Mustang fastback with a 390, several Mustang GTs from the 80s and 90s, and most recently, a pair of Mercedes Benz 450 SELs and a heavily modified Merkur XR4ti.
Two years ago I sold my last cruiser car and probably won't be getting another.
They just cost way too much, and I also don't have a garage, which makes it difficult to work on a vehicle, and I have to park on the street.
I like just driving alone in my car, which is a simple 2005 Honda CR-V. My car, my music, my comfort settings.
That is also why I like being at home:
I'm enjoying a simple pleasure this afternoon. The snow started falling about noon and we're expecting to see about 3" - 4" by the time it ends this evening.
It's Saturday, and I was planning to take my car in to the shop for some routine maintenance and then drive around to run a bunch of trivial errands, but I decided to stay off the roads during the snowstorm.
Instead, I'm sitting in my living room next to the picture window reading a novel. I have a cozy blanket wrapped around me and I can watch the snow fall outside.
I can get stuff done tomorrow. Today, I'm doing nothing but relaxing.
It's Saturday, and I was planning to take my car in to the shop for some routine maintenance and then drive around to run a bunch of trivial errands, but I decided to stay off the roads during the snowstorm.
Instead, I'm sitting in my living room next to the picture window reading a novel. I have a cozy blanket wrapped around me and I can watch the snow fall outside.
I can get stuff done tomorrow. Today, I'm doing nothing but relaxing.
I like when you get out of the shower, and you put a Q-Tip in your ear almost far enough to give yourself brain damage. The feeling right before it poked you in the brain is undescribible.
