Sammy Kershaw Still Rocks

Two days ago I closed the doors on 102 blistering degrees, humidity high enough to poach eggs, or your eyeballs...in their sockets, if exposed too long. So I patted my best friend on his dirty brown head and told him, "watch the store for me bubba, it's too hot for you to sleep outside. The cats will keep you company. Just don't eat'em, er you'll get hair-balls".

I turned off the open sign and tugged my wagon home. Yeah, a real wagon. Some people carry lunch pales. I drag mine, in an all-terrain wagon in John-Deere-Green. It's a short walk home. Of course this time of year it can seem a long ways when I'm swatting at swarms of mosquitos, and trying to keep all bodily orifices closed while squelching profanities.

It cooled off today. It was weird. But hey, the weather everywhere is weird these days, thanks to modern marvels like Freon, hair-spray, and gas powered motors.

The clouds rolled in like battle-ships. They threatened to rain on Sammy Kershaws parade. Luckily they were gone as fast. The concert was great. It was cool out. I could have used a sweater. El Dorado has the best small town fair, by far. I hate to miss it. So I go, for the free concerts in the park. The bands are great, the park is packed to the gills, yet I manage to park my Divine Curiosity Shop Mobile in the same exact place every year and set up my chair in the same exact place, by the hedge, and the rock wall topped with oddly round rocks. They're common to the area. They look like cannon balls. It's said they are remnants of an extremely ancient meteorite crash. I've never seen them anywhere else. Kind of like the Shiva Lingam, only a lot less holy. In fact, so not holy, that they use them to build walls, lamp posts and walk ways. I like them. I have one on a crystal ball stand in my collection of spheres.

The drive home was uneventful. A couple deer, a bewildered racoon and one very dead and stinking white skunk that I managed to straddle,; other than that, it was a lonely country drive. I really need to get that radio fixed, but I don't dare let anyone touch that vintage machine. So, I guess if I want tunes, I'd better sell my old Fairlane and buy that small pick-up that I really need. I hate to part with it on the one hand, and on the other...I really miss power stearing, automatic transmissions, music, and most of all...air conditioning.

FOR SALE: 1964 FORD FAIRLANE,
170, 3 ON THE TREE, 76,000 ACTUAL
MILES, ALL ORIGINAL....and NO,
you can't have my Sponge Bob floor matts!
$4,500 or trade (no junk please. unless you
WANT to make me laugh, then by all means,
entertain me. The answer will still be NO).
hogwaller@interlinc.net or
call the Shop at (417)884-0003
open 10-6 (mid-western time) Tue-Sun
7/22/2006 1:17 AM
word count 494

Define Divine

Someone asked me today what the word divination meant. I explained that tools such as tarot, pendulum, copper rods, and even ouija board are all divining tools, used to seek out answers, whether to a question or to seek out items such as water.

“I’ve got my rods set for stun. If I happen to find gold….I’ll be stunned. That’s why the shop is called Divine Curiosity Shop. My specialty is divining tools. The software you are playing with are all divination programs (Scrying, Tarot, I-Ching, Rune Caster, etc). They’re here for everyone to use. Some people are already familiar with these fortune telling methodologies and others are just …curious, like yourself.”

A grin teased at her mouth as the light went on.

“So if it says I’m gonna be rich, does it mean …like…I will ?”
“That all depends”
“On What?”
“On my percentage of the take.”

Her face went blank and I busted up.
“A reading at the moment of it’s draw, holds true, but if your mindset changes five minutes from now and you alter your attitude or change plans, it could come up completely different in a second reading. Try it out on something small. Take notes.”
“Li-i-ike?”
“Oh that’s easy. Say you make two lefts and take a shortcut down a back road on your way home everyday. Do a reading on the remainder of your day, then decide on an alternate route, and do a second reading. Has anything changed? Now follow that alternate route. You have to follow through to find out the outcome of the day. “
“Cool”

I find that the more time I spend around a person, the fewer syllables they use. Does that mean I talk too much, to the point of boredom, or does it mean that I challenge their brains, causing other processes to slow while fully charged neurons begin to spark on the question at hand? Gee, I hope it’s the latter.

Sam I Am, I do Not Like Green Eggs and Ham!

Sam I am, Sam I am, I do not like Green Eggs and Ham!

Colors are another thing that passes in cycles. When you were two, your favorite color was red, at five it was orange, at thirteen, black was the color of choice. Preferences say loads about a person.

For instance, the woman that just left my fine establishment was critical (anal, if you prefer), aloof, ignorant, self-righteous, ill-informed, angry, and very over-weight. She was wearing dark blue slacks in an unattractive Walmart cut and a light blue tent top. Had short dark hair in a non-descript chop-shop-do and toted an adolescent like a pet pooch.

She hadn’t taken two steps in the door before I knew I wouldn’t enjoy idle chit-chat with her. So I busied myself with my daily shipping routine and tried desperately to keep myself out of shot range. Usually, I jump right into conversation if the colors, clothes, and demeanor are correct. You see, the over-use of blue indicated all of the aforementioned personality quirks. The unattractive cut of hair and trousseau screamed Christian, possibly Baptist. The sadly slouching preteen looked like a whipped pup. No doubt detested and scorned by the mother for being moderately attractive and desiring a typical teen wardrobe, of which she could have carried off quite well…if it weren’t hammered into her as being a sin. So she hung her head in disgrace and hid behind a mass of unkempt hair, ashamed of puberty and no doubt, the spam ( a jellified mass of by-products forced to conform to the can it is crammed into for marketing purposes) a jealous mother fed her. I bet you’re wondering what she was wearing. Maybe, another time.

Being observant is commonly confused with psychism [i.e. “Psych”; a new detective show]; But, if you combine psychic ability with keen observation, pour it into a D cup and top it off with a pair of big beautiful cerulean eyes and long flowing cascades of sunlight, then you’ve got one scary woman. Ask any man. It can be hell on a womans love-life. At least until she finds the man that can appreciate and handle her well-rounded gifts gracefully.

I was going somewhere with all this. Oh yes, it was that green chick with the bouffant. An exhausting individual. That’ll have to wait for another time, more big blue Baptists just walked in.
Oy! I’ll have to conjure my cloak of many colors for the third time today. I deserve an ice cream cone.