An misfortunate change in perspective

I like to think of myself as being above the more base of human reactions. In the past I was wont to sit back and bite my thumb at the greedy of the world. Today it occured to me that my perspective has shifted slightly now that I am on commission at work. The first school of the year showed up today and I realized that the vast majority of the work will likely be done by yours truly. Before now, that just meant that there was a pile on the floor to step over and attempt to avoid. Now, it means money. My money. I like the thought of money, but I think I liked myself better when I could still dislocate my shoulder patting myself on the back.

I'm not laughing at you, but I am laughing in your general direction

After doing a good bit of research into the didgeridoo, I've come to the conclusion that I got exactly what I paid for when I bought mine in Sydney. The sound quality is equal to the money I paid for it, even discounting the paint. Paint decreases sound quality as it increases the cost. That isn't to say that the sound is affected by paint, but only that with the paint comes an increase in price. The sound of my didge is a least as good as an unpainted didge of the same price. I am having trouble with the tenth commandment right now. I am also laughing at the number of people who will pick up a bible (or consider doing so) to figure out what I am talking about.

Haiku V

I like to think of myself as a bit of a poet, if only occasionally. However, I forget now and then that I am not nearly so unique as I would like to be. From time to time it would be well to climb down from my high horse and realize without outside influence (or kick in the head) that there are many out in the wide world much better than I. This weekend I was most pleasantly reminded that one of my greatest fans, is in fact (and always has been) a much better poet than I. Her style is less awkward, less forced and flows without the blatant contrivance of my own work. She also digs Haiku. I present here three. All have been highly influenced by or have been written outright by her, though perhaps the subject matter may involve me on occasion. She has no difficulty matching my style, though she would likely do better using her gift without my limitations.

Sugar white frosting
Glucose stabs my pancreas
Raspberry layers

Insistant female
Oozing red inflammation
Pushy claws on rash

Struggling spindles
Imprisoned butterfly wings
Beautiful release

That last is a much more pure form and better written than any Haiku I have come up with that I can recall. It captures the moment with perfect clarity and seizes the moment in time with none of the guileless manipulation of my own writing. I freely acknowledge that she is a better writer than I, and I love her the more for it.

A warning for whomever might need it

There are nasty chemicals in the best of products. Some of them make very quick work of difficult problems with little or no consequence. Others give you nasty oozing rashes that make your arms swell to twice their normal size and cause doctors to make comments about raw meat. Try to choose the former rather than the latter. I didn't.

A case of 72 hour Leprosy

I've discovered all that is needful to learn the proper technique for didgeridoo playing is a computer for research, one didge, and several days home from work suffering from something that most closely resembles leprosy. Now that the sores have begun fading from my arms and face, and the children no longer run in fear, I still have my didge playing skills to terrorize them.