Since I don't seem to remember things as well as I use to, or perhaps I do but just don't know it, I've stared writing down little notes on a small piece of paper to remind me of events that happen in my life that I consider worth writing about and passing along to everyone. I usually just jot down one or two words that will jog my memory and then I can "tie it all together.” As I look over my notes I find that I have written the following items.
1) Bus stop - teeth
2) Soft ball - 52
3) Porno - Bible
4) Lotto - lucky numbers
5) Shower - Vegetable salad dressing
This is the scary bit! I know exactly what I want to write about for items #1 though 4, but I don't have a clue for item #5! I can't for the life of me remember what the hell I was thinking about; I can't "tie anything together". No matter in which order I try and put them in.
#1) Anyway, a few weeks ago I received a call from my friend Francis from Palau, his family is living up in Oregon and he was going back to Palau for a short visit and asked if I could pick him up at the greyhound bus stop in LA. I said "Sure it would be no problem" and jumped in the van and headed for LA. The last time I was in a greyhound bus terminal was way back in '69. (Yes I'm really that old!) I use to ride the bus from
When I arrived at the terminal, I was informed that the bus had a flat tire and would be about one hour late. So I kind of wandered around to see if things had changed any. To my lack of surprise, things were pretty much the way I remembered them. Not much had changed, Oh sure, the benches had been re-painted from charcoal gray to a new and upbeat neutral gray. The signs and posters that were written in English had been replaced with signs and poster written in Spanish. And the urinals automatically flushed when you walked away from them, or at least they tried but were clogged with cigarette butts, many of which probably have been floating since October '69!
In one room there were about a dozen or so people sitting around with that same blank gaze that I see when I'm sitting in the waiting room over at the VA hospital. Almost all of them were missing a minimum of at least one body part, mostly teeth. Between them all there wasn't enough for one complete set. (See how it ties together?) The one thing they all had in common was half a cigarette butt precariously clinging to their bottom lip. They didn't even try to flick off the ash, but instead, it appeared that there was some kind of unofficial contest going on to see who could have the longest ash adhere to the end of their cigarette. One guy had almost a full two inches, and was far and away in the lead when I walked in. All heads turned in my direction, and for a brief moment there appeared to be some small resemblance of intelligence, but that vanished faster than Senator McCain's campaign.
The guy with the two-inch ash was more than slightly annoyed as the ash fell into his lap giving the others the prospect of victory. In fact, for the first time in my life I could actually smell the victory in the air. I took a seat on a neutral gray bench in the corner and looked around for something to read, but soon discovered that there was nothing, not even an old National Inquirer. It was about that time that my keen power of observation came into clear focus. Everybody in the room was dressed in gray! Oh my god! These were not the passengers but in fact the drivers! I had stumbled into the driver's room. I stood up, smiled and said with all the sincerity that I could muster "Ah…Hey fellows, anyone got a light?"
#2) I stared to play baseball again. Well, ok, slow pitch softball, but that's not the point, the point is that this is the first time since I played on the "All Taiwanese" team in
#3) I was watching the news on TV the other day and they were reporting on this guy who had gone out and raped, killed and mutilated and bunch a school girls. A couple of things come to mind when you hear a tragic story such as this. Why is it that we only remember the name of the criminal and never the name of any of the victims? We all know Charles Manson but nobody can tell you just whom in fact he killed. Or try and name a few of Jeffrey Dahmer’s victims? They also stated that when the police went to his home they found pornographic material. Then there was this editorial stating how bad pornographic material was and that it should be banned. Not that I'm for pornographic material, especially after that last batch of pictures; they never can get my "good side" (see how it ties together?) But what about the guy who goes out and kills a black person, or a Jewish person, or blows up an abortion clinic, and when the police go to his house and find a Christian bible or teaching from Mohammed, they never say that we should ban all religious materials? Maybe it's just me, but I really don't see that big of a difference here.
#4) After years of major disappointment I have decided it time to change my lucky lotto numbers! Yes I know what your thinking, "Lenny, How can you change them after all they have given you?" But that's just it, they haven't given me a damn thing and it's time for a change. Before I acquaint you my new lucky numbers I'm compelled to tell you my old ones. They were 2,4,48,30,52,13. The first three are easy, my birthday, February 4, 1948. 30 is the age of my son Eric. 52, contraire to popular belief is my age (See how it ties together?) and 13 just because everyone else thinks it's unlucky. My new lucky numbers are 64, 76, 83, 87, 91, and 96. Yes I know what you’re thinking, "Lenny, you idiot, the lotto only goes up to 52!" But there are good reasons for the change, the first being that, having painstakingly calculated the odds, using the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, my new numbers have just about the same chance of wining as my old ones. Plus I have this premonition that the day I hit the 50 million dollar lotto there will be 50 million other people with the same numbers and we all get one dollar. So by choosing these numbers I'm assured that I will be the only one with these numbers and hence the only winner. Yeah, now who's the fool, eh?
#5) Sorry but I still don't have a clue about the "Salad dressing" or "showers". So if anyone out there has talked to me about Salads or we took a shower together or spread salad dressing on each other for whatever reason, please let me know and I'll "tie it all together!"
Hope to see you soon, but until then, may you always have blue skies and green lights wherever you go.
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