Best Response

NGS Picture Id:1433077
A life-size model of the Iceman.

I like to read the comments sections of controversial topics. Here’s one exchange regarding an article written by a lady that feels ashamed of being overweight. The respondent thinks she has the answer:

Comment: “she should be more active. Did you ever see a picture of a caveman? They were thin because they ran and stayed active”.

Response: “Actually I’ve never seen a picture of a caveman. Cameras were so unreliable back then”.

The Bull


Our acreage on Oak Grove Road abutted Joe Harris’ property separated by a creek. Joe owned the Diamond Dot store on M59 in Howell and raised beef. We were told it was private property, to never trespass, so we were always back there. We often took “hikes”, would see Joe’s cattle and would taunt the bull to chase us. I have no idea why we thought that was a good idea. We would taunt the bull by jumping around, calling to him and dancing, and he lazily go back to his business of eating grass. Except one day when we were again walking away a disappointed.

It’s never a good sign when one of your buddies yells “HOLY SHIT!” and runs for their life. It’s all in the way they run. Not a jog or running to first base but an absolute panic complete with head down and arm twirling. I think of the line “I don’t have to run fast, just faster than you”. The rest of us looked behind we could see one really pissed off bull bearing down on us like a train. We all ran for the same tree. The guys taller than me, like all of them, grabbed the low hanging branches and swinging up, left exactly no branches for me. My brother Mike extended his hand to pull me up but I knew he would dangle me like a red cape in front of that bull. A huge branch of the tree was lying on the ground. It was just big enough for me to fit under. He chased around the tree to get me from one side and I’d slip under the branch. Then he’d go around the other side and I’d duck under the branches again. This stalemate went on much longer than was necessary. Bulls, like kids, may not be bright, but what they lack in smarts, they make up in sheer stubbornness. I got tired of this real quick but not enough to be gored by Mr. Bad Mood. He eventually lost interest and slowly walked away. My “buddies” got down from the tree and we decided our hike was over. Now we just had to walk by the bull on the way out.


imageKaren and I used to play gigs at Dillons in Haslett. One night four guys came in, of the sort that most likely had never been in a bar. The kind with pocket protectors, calculator holsters and their top buttons fastened. It was obvious they had never smoked because they held their cigarettes awkwardly and coughed a lot. It was an Easter Egg hunt. They would scope out a cutie, all would stare and put their heads together and giggle like little girls. They were hurriedly getting trashed. The Alpha male left a cigarette in his mouth the whole time like James Dean. You could tell it was driving him crazy as he kept wincing. Then ten beautiful sorority sisters walked through the door. They were dressed to the Nines but the standout was a tall long haired blonde with a pink mohair sweater. These guys started seizing. The Mother Lode. They giggled and put their heads together to plan their strategy. The Alpha was bestowing his knowledge of CHICKS!!! With his cigarette hanging, and beer in hand, the Alpha rose and swaggered toward the trophy blonde. The remaining guys were wide eyed with anticipation. Alpha squatted next to the blonde and began talking her up. She was not receptive. All the while the cigarette smoke was rising into his face. He tried to change the angle of his head, lost his balance falling forward and stuck his cigarette right into her mohair sweater. It went up like a torch. Everything got chaotic then. He rose from the floor and threw his beer on the fire, her face and hair. Karen and I missed the next verse but kept playing. The blonde about smacked the shit out of Alpha. The sisters were yelling obscenities. He walked dejectedly back to his table without his cigarette. Or the girl. The guys all got up, hang dog, and walked out the door. Cigarettes burning and beers unfinished.


Karen an I were on the west side and stopped to pick up a few items at Meijers. The last time I was at the west side Meijers I was walking into the store when this lady walked out in front of me. The entire back of her dress was tucked into the waist of her pantyhose showing the world that everything was present and accounted for. I wasn’t quite sure where to put my eyes. Keeping them closed or looking down were not good options in the parking lot. Neither was walking backwards. So now and again I was faced with watching her biscuits bobble into the store. The wake of people she left behind were giggling or covering their mouths, looking at me like I was her entourage. Friends asked me later if I said anything to her. I would then tell them a Little Billy joke: Little Billy came home with two black eyes. His Mom asked him what happened. “This lady on the bus had her dress stuck in her crack so I pulled it out and she hit me in the eye.” “So what about the other one?” she asked. “I thought she wanted it there so I put it back.” So no, I didn’t say anything. I figured she’d be so embarrassed she’d probably hit me. And then I’d be wearing her embarrassment.

Good morning.


imageSeeing the reflection of the early sun on the ocean this morning, I noticed the illuminated path leads directly back to you. As if the universe is saying with a wink and a nod, “This day is for you”.