Why I Need To Move

I received a call from Alexey's phone this morning at 5:37am. I was awaken by the call. I answered and there was no one there. I called back at 5:40am. I sent a text with a "?" at 5:42am. I thought about it for a minute wondering what might motivate such a call. I might have been the last call on his phone from 11:01pm last night when he stopped by here to write some letters - his phone being set to call back the last caller. I also wondered, cop-wise, whether this was a sign of some distress in their house - specifically recalling Michael Dinkle's threats against their family (convicted felon) and that his rent was now about due - if he was still living at the Inn. I think he got the message from me to make haste when I talk to he and his father. And I considered a house fire - lucid carbon monoxide state and grabbing the phone. I considered that Mom might have accidentally called while perusing through Alex's text messages. Even Alex sleeping on his phone and "pocket calling" was a thought - and when he sleeps, he's out like a light. I put on my Burkenstocks and walked downstairs, changed t-shirts and walked outdoors to go take a look. As I was walking out the door, I received another phone call from Alexey's phone, this at 5:47am. I answered and there was no signal - apparently disconnected before my answering. I walked down to the top of the Dillon's driveway and stood quietly. The Mercedes, Dodge, Yukon and Breeze were parked. It was strangely dark and silent - Orion very bright right overhead. I figured if something was amiss, Tyson or Shammy would be barking. Anyhow - I went back home, found my keys and took a drive. I pulled into the Dillon's driveway from below and lighted up the parked car. I was able to see through the house clearly and there was no observable smoke. I then drove to the Crystal River Inn to see if perchance William Dinkle was out on the road - he with no car of his own. Again, it was all quiet. On the way home I stopped on Burleson in front of the Dillon's and killed my engine. A train was going through town at the time, 6:02am, and it was hard to hear. Things seemed quiet, no animals barking or distressed. I returned home and wrote this.

It is morning now and the coffee pot is gurgling in the kitchen. Kodak and Bugs are lying on the floor. I've just picked up Alex's letters at Kinko's. A cool front has blown in during the night and this afternoon promises to be an uncommon pleasant. Alex said to me last night before he left, "Man Carl, you get so much done in a day". He wanted copies of the letters we'd crafted so that he could learn how to write better. I wonder sometimes why it is that I defer to the lowest common denominator when assessing risk - thinking the worst before investigating and then proving it less difficult. If I lived in a small distant town, toiling each day in creative projects, would I become soft and no longer capable of watching out for, teaching and preparing those who I care for the most - and would I want to. I think this is just me and it's what I do.

Dog People

I live in a funny town and being a dog owner, I am blessed every day by the presence of other dog people - folks who like dogs, own pets, or are filled with some sort of moral appreciation for man's greatest loyal companion. Unfortunately, so too are there people in this town who steal dogs to fight them, or filet them into skirt and make tacos. I know, it sounds odd eating a labrador taco, but they are supposed to be good.

Kodak, my black lab, is on the horizon of her next life. She had another seizure yesterday, a sign that here time is coming to an end. Bugs, my young two year old Chocolate Lab is a bundle of energy who will chase a tennis ball for hours on end. But when she was a youngster and had her first heat - she went next door to the Dillons and let their boy boxer have his way with her. When she would come home, reluctantly, she totally looked like she'd been pulling a train at a fraternity house for days on end. Lucky for me, she did not get pregnant and end up putting her kids in the nursery at the High School while she finished her elementary education - like so many others in this town.

You know how we are with our first loves - forever after, we compare our relationships tenor with the unbridled race of the first. Tyson, the very beautiful Boxer from down the street, and Bugs, my beautiful little lab from here are childhood sweethearts. And despite the fact that both have lost their reproductive capacity (fixed), they are best friends. Each day they long for each other's company. They french kiss, roll around naked, skinny dip, practice cunnilingus and fellatio(doggie style), and even pretend screw now and then(also doggie style). But what is the cutest of all is when the sleep together - like a couple in each others arms.

So here's the problem. They are a cute couple, but if they get out together - they run and run and run all across this town. Thank goodness they both have have big name tags with big phone numbers and so far, good people have rescued them and held them at bay until either I, Cathy or Mike or Alex go pick them up. Last week they were darting around in traffic on Ranch Road 12 at Wake the Dead Coffee shop - more than a mile from here. Holy Crap. And then again, a good guy stopped his truck and loaded them up in the bed and called my cell phone. Today, Kate Peterson had them at her house on Loop Street - keeping them still with bacon strips.

One of these days, someone not so nice is going to seize the opportunity to take advantage of two wayward dogs. Tyson will become a fighter - kicked and teased and harassed until he fights in a betting ring. Bugs - my cute Bugs - will be a back yard pachanga of carne guisada tacos.

Love each day like you have no tomorrow - oh so true.

Defamation of Character

a malicious, false, and defamatory statement or report: a slander against his good name or character of another.

If a man steals from me my purse, he steals trash. Tis something, tis nothing and has made a fool of millions. But if a man steals from me my good name, he steals that which makes him not rich and me poor indeed.

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.

Othelo Act 3, Scene 3

Character: is an evaluation of the aggregate components of a particular individual's durable moral qualities. The concept of character can imply a variety of attributes including the existence or lack of virtues such as integrity, courage, fortitude, honesty, and loyalty, empathy, compassion, generosity, or of good behaviors or habits. Moral character primarily refers to the assemblage of qualities that distinguish one individual from another - although on a cultural level, the set of moral behaviors to which a social group adheres can be said to unite and define it culturally as distinct from others. Psychologist Lawrence Pervin defines moral character as "a disposition to express behavior in consistent patterns of functions across a range of situations"

Curtis Hill Rylander

A Welder

Lightning