Little Bang Theory

It was a Big Day at The Job today, when we found out if the beams fit. If they didn’t, I would be pretty much toast.

Here, my Gaucho friend Isaiah rides one down in the rain:

The Bad News: This bridge was half-built when I came on board, and was a mess, with the abutments being slightly too close together for the size of the beams.

The Good News: I managed to tweak the shit outta the layout, scarfing a few extra millimeters from each of several unsuspecting design features and making them fit.

Just barely.

But hey, barely works for me!

…of cropping and balancing and resizing the past weekend’s pics for posting over where The Climbers go.   I’ll be back and raging soon as I’ve thanked this gathering’s attendees.

So I’m off to The Woods for the weekend, cad that I am, not having had the time to respond to the little band of Merry Fellows (and Fellas ) who have been supporting my blogging addiction this past week.

I always visit you when you stop by, but lately haven’t had the good manners to respond to your brilliant, funny, insightful or important posts. It’s a deficiency I’ve intended to remedy for decades now. Sorry…

I’m extending a special apology to DCup, who bestowed an undeserved honor upon me earlier this week. She subsequently posted a picture of herself in a gorgeous dress, a picture which raised a lump in my, um, throat, but you know, it was just above another picture of her beau Studly Mathman, and frankly I’m way too little to want a knock on the door from a guy like that.

And to my Siamese Cousin Phydeaux, who requested that I add “tags” to my posts: it probably isn’t hard, but I haven’t learned that trick yet. Good idea though; I’ll look into it.

So again, adieu ’till Sunday night or Monday. When I return I’ll be a year older, and probably ten pounds heavier. It is a party, you know!

And please, please don’t all get naked in my absence - I hate it when I miss the Good Stuff!

If ye not be a visitor over at Cap’n Dykes place, ya Scurvy Dog, ye ought ta be keel-hauled and left on a Dirt Island to Dry in th’ Sun!

…Or maybe jest go there an’ we’ll let ye be!

Me Cap’n, I been flounderin’ fer some time in th’ flats o’ land, and ain’t been as regular as a Bursar ought t’ be, but I still be keepin’ me One Good Eye on yer loot (and Lasses, ye may have noticed!)

Sail On, me Cap’n, Sail On!

I took this photo of a “Fire On The Mountain”-type sunset last night, and found a hidden message in it:

It’s mighty dim, but if you look hard you’ll get it.

Ted Nugent must be getting wood as you read this.

Here’s My Baby, “Ultimate Spawn,” the last true gift from my loins to the world, on her first day at Boston University:

She’s both ecstatic and terrified, but I have her beat: I’m ecstatic, terrified and stunned to see my beautiful little hill-town baby girl moving into a room on the 14th floor of a “Big City” school.

But I’ll get used to it. I mean, she worked pretty hard to get there, hard enough so that I can afford to take loans for the balance of her tuition. And believe me, that’s pretty hard!

So now, as Elder Progeny has returned to Mount Holyoke, I’m alone for the year. I’m seriously considering commencing my Second of Three Childhoods with a Bout of Bachelor Bone-Headedry. So pardon me if I get all “Yo!” on ya…

Çiao for now,

Raul

Ten miles of trails left by careful planting in an 8 acre field:

These folks have been doing different corn mazes here every year for the last eight.

Pretty cool.

Because some times ya gotta.

So there’s this thing goin’ round, and I seem to have picked it up from DCup. Rumor has it she spent a bit too much time over at Phydeaux’s place, and the sad truth is that he caught it from a monkey!

If the Rightosphere gets a hold of this, we’re in BIG TROUBLE.

The defining symptom (I looked it up) is an unbridled urge to blather on in Fours about various sordid details of your miserable existence, details which I’m sure would bore the Average Sentient Being to tears. There’s no cream for it; there’s no pill for it; there’s only this:

Jobs That Have Had Me:

1) Climbing Instructor/Mountain Guide. Imagine if you will the jaw-dropping cluelessness of a host of too-busy upscale Joisey parents sending their thrill-seeking teenage daughters off for a summer of growth and discovery with the likes of me. Grow a brain, people! You’re lucky I’m so shy.

2) Stone Worker/Wall Builder. My proudest accomplishment: a couple hundred yards of wall along a rising driveway on a steep cross-slope. Two demure feet tall in the front, a whopping six feet in the back, though of course nobody would ever know it. I started with a steel bar and a pair of insulated work gloves (winter in New England, you know) and ended with a friggin’ meat cape. Good Times!

3) Factory Worker. Injection molding the outer layer onto golf balls from 11 to 7. Met some nice Portuguese guys who invited me over for post-work breakfasts consisting of home-made wine by the water-glass and deep fried cod-fish balls, all jovially shared ’round a poker game as the sun came up. And yet, I lived.

4) Head Surveyor on Highway Bridge Construction Projects. My current gig. I try to divide my time equally between getting the job done and resisting the urge to dope-slap the Highly Paid Cretins who design those concrete-and-steel abortions. Think “Minnesota” and you’re half way there.

Places I’d Rather Be:

1) Far above tree-line in a maze of rocks and krummholz, looking down through a break in a sea of clouds at the valley below, the intense sun and crisp, cool air combining in a sensorial non sequitur, simultaneously awful and beautiful. The more difficult the position is to attain, the more impossible it is to forget.

2) In a car, windows down, tall pines flowing past, no map, no compass, no destination but forward. Points of intimate interest and panoramic vistas, all rolled into a seamless experience of the new. The only required accessory would be a friend to share the wonder.

3) At the ocean’s edge, exploring the rainbow of life in an endless series of tidal pools, funny little creatures doing funny little creature things as the waves crash into foam over my shoulder, occasionally surprising me with a bracing reminder of their salty power. Manchester-by-the-sea comes to mind.

4) Making love in the hot sun on a well-padded rock by a waterfall, her warmth surrounding me as the white noise of the water blends with the sound of birds, and I disappear into her eyes.

‘Scuse me for a minute…

Countries I’ve Been To:

1) Canada - A pansy-ass sissypants country with hardly any military, ridiculous notions like Health Care For All, a European sensibility without the expense of air fare, and some of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. They’d be great neighbors if they’d just sack up and bomb something.

2) Portugal - Craggy mountians in the North, topless beaches in the South, excellent fresh seafood and viño tinto with every meal. A fella could get spoiled by the likes of it.

3) Guatemala - A dichotomous mix of obscene wealth and dirt-floored squalor, by turns exotic and pedestrian. Shop in the mountain bazaars; don’t eat the salad. Lomotil a must.

4) The Divided States of Amerika. Hard to beat if you’re a One-Per-Center. The rest of you can eat shit and die.

Foods I Like:

1) Garlic. Vitamin G, Vegetable Of The Gods, the end-All of Eats. No vampire on this boy!

2) Southern Italian Seafood. A melange of shellfish, calamari and tender white fillets in a spicy tomato broth over homemade pasta. A crisp minerally white between bites; leave the bottle on the table, thanks.

3) Curries. All types. Aromatic Indian ones, Thai coconut with fresh basil ones, my chilled curried butternut squash soup with chopped cilantro and a dollop of sour cream. Pass the crusty bread.

4) A good Texas Chili. No beans, just meat cooked into the afterlife in a riot of fresh veggies and spices, the ones that make your brow tingle and your asshole pucker. Mas cerveza, por favor!!!!

Personal Heroes:

1) Jesus Christ. Helluva guy!

2) Hugo Chávez. The Venezuelan version of Jesus Christ.

3) My Brother. Been there and back, and always been there for me when I needed a friend. Thanks, Bro.

4) George W. Bush. JUST KIDDING, JUST KIDDDING!!!

Books I Has Read:

1) The Illustrated Man. My first and favorite Bradbury. Happy Belated Birthday Ray, BTW.

2) The Violent Bear It Away by Flannery O’Connor. ‘Course all her works have slipped past these eyelids, but that one seems to be often overlooked, so I’m touting its virtues. But get The Complete Works, you won’t be bored.

3) Hegemony or Survival, by Noam The Gnome Chomsky. Friggin’ trouble maker!

4) A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking. Second attempt. Hey, I’m curious but simple, and it’s a stretch for a brown-collar boy.

Well Gawd Damn that took a while, on accounta I type at the Speed of Dark! And since I’m averse to inflicting avoidable burdens on unsuspecting passers-by, I’m just going to invite anyone who reads this to jump in and feel my pain share my joy in this little exercise in openness and communion.

Seriously, thanks DCup for the vote of confidence your “tag” seems to imply. I’ll get you for this!

I have no idea why the comments are closed on that last post, or how to change it.

UPDATE - System glitch, no fix, so I copied and pasted the durn thing into a new post ;)  The Rube Goldberg School of Self-Help If It Kills Ya.

Thanks for the suggestions.  And oh, BTW, WordPress Support couldn’t solve the problem beyond saying that there were occasional inexplicable glitches.  But they were prompt!!!!