Last night I watched as the media interviewed Lance Berkman about his latest injury; a type 2 calf strain. When asked how it felt he responded "it feels like a charlie horse...a perpetual charlie horse. For those of you who did not attend Rice, that means 'ongoing.'"
All right wise guy...I'm not sure whether to be entertained by your wit or offended. Was that comment directed at the idiot that asked the question or those of us watching the idiot that asked the question?
For seven years you have been one my truest and most faithful companions. You have served to protect me, carry me and support me in many endeavors. You were a huge risk and investment and have proved to be absolutely worth every bit of blood, sweat and tears that I have poured into you. Your gentleness at times can be compared to none other and then...at times... it has been nearly obsolete which by all merits was completely warranted for my sheer stupidity and negligence. I have entrusted you with my most valuable possessions and I am not just talking about that gorgeous black dress or my favorite lamp, but my dearest friends and family. Together we have traveled many miles cross land and sea (I recall some unbelievable ferry trips) and made memories that will last an eternity. You have held me when I cried and when I have laughed. You listened to my disastrous renditions of everything from Merle Haggard to Madonna to Amy Grant. We have shared every Holiday for the last seven years together. Late nights and early morning, sunsets and sunrises, shopping trips, road trips, weddings, funerals.
Oh, my sweet, sweet truck....I am so glad to have you home!
Thanks to all of the hard work of the angels over at Circle D Transmission, I have been reunited with my truest of all loves.
And I vow never to complain about that rattle in the back or the window that has a mind of its own and only operates when the conditions are perfect or the CD player that eats my CD's. I will forever or at least for the next 12 months because we all know my track record with long term relationships or anything remotely close to the word "forever" love and cherish you, in the good times and the bad, and vow to have the tranny serviced as regularly as I get my hair cut and colored.
So, I'll crank up the tunes, roll down one window, position that object in the rear that rattles so loudly exactly right and keep on keepin' on in the Explorer. Because that's just how I roll.
Guess what? I think those are rain clouds. OK, so they aren't the actual clouds I saw this morning as I rode in to downtown on the bus, but they pretty much looked like that (and much thanks to khou.com for the image). What a welcome sight?! Since I have cracks in the yard surrounding my house that look as if we have had some catastrophic earthquake that shook the ground open enough to swallow us all up, I would think everyone would be jumping for joy at this beautiful sight this morning.
I tell you, I was doing a happy dance right there in my seat on the bus. The thoughts crossing my mind were something along the lines of... "I might actually be able to go get my hair done now and stop throwing hundreds of dollars at the local MUD in effort to thwart off any ugly letters from the homeowners association declaring I was an unfit resident of the neighborhood because my grass had the least bit of a yellow tint." Because those cracks in the yard big enough to swallow us whole are really in my neighbors yard, but stretching pretty close to mine.
But, as I was deep in thought about coloring the gray roots that are nearly two inches long on my head right now, my bus seat companion leans across and with an exasperated sigh says, "uh...look at those clouds. (another exasperated sigh) I sure hope the bus gets into downtown before the sky opens up and we get all wet." Followed by many more exasperated sighs ever three minutes for the remainder of our ride into downtown.
Who are you lady? What planet have you been sent here from? How can you even be the least bit bothered by a few raindrops from the sky when we are all about to dry up, wither away or be swallowed up by the cracks in our yards?
There is something refreshing, renewing and cleansing about a good rain shower. In times when we are getting a plethora of rain, I think we loose sight of this and take for granted the sheer magnificence of cleansing our earth and environment.
Personally, I would forgo a good hair day for a little rain. In fact, I have forgone good hair days for a couple of months now in an effort to ward off the evil homeowners association.
After taking a moment to stare at this lady next to me as if she was dropped here from another planet this morning, I am pretty sure she has forgone good hair days for a while and a little sprinkle on her hair won't really hurt anything.