Just Crows

I know.  This isn't the promised lady show.  I've decided to hold off on that for a minute.  I woke up at four this morning which is the new five.  I had to make a decision.  Get up or try to fall back to sleep?  Y'all, as we say in the Sunny South, have been there.  You try to fall back to sleep but your mind begins to race about all the things you need to do or the troubles of your time or you harken back to darker days, romances gone wrong, etc.  

I decided to rise and shine.  

I put on the coffee, then I made the day's first mistake and read the news.  That certainly takes the shine off the day.  

Now it is 5:05/6:05 and the sun is far from coming up.  What to do?  My little laptop is suddenly not able to run on battery for even two hours.  It heats up and the fan runs most of the time.  It is "old" in computer years.  I bought it in 2019.  Still, I don't have the urge to spend money on a new one.  If I were to update everything I need to now, I'd be spending close to ten thousand dollars.  Maybe choosing to pursue pictures in the digital age was a mistake.  "They" have me by the balls, though.  My laptop will no longer run the newest version of Photoshop.  How about that?  

I type and watch my battery percent drop prodigiously.  Maybe I should have stayed in bed.  

The boyz at the top of the page have the right idea--make a robot out of scrap.  Nothing digital, nothing mechanical, just pieces from a junkyard stitched together.  Only two things can stop The Bumblebee.  You'd know this if you watched enough 1950s and '60s B horror movies--electricity and water!  

Dragging the shutter with these two turned out awesome.  Tell me that ain't Omar Little from "The Wire" reborn.  

I think the weather is what troubles me.  It was 90 degrees on March 10 here in my own hometown.  That is about fifteen degrees above the norm.  There have been no birds this winter and there are hardly anything but crows here now as we approach the spring.  I suddenly have terrible allergies and am constantly sneezing and blowing, eyes and throat itching.  But to the local t.v. news people, it's just, "How about that--it's beach weather this week!"  No mention of the coming disasters, not a hint that these are "End Times."  

But what can you do?  I've been telling my friends that sure as shittin' somebody's going to use a nuke.  It seems more and more likely every day.  Whatever happened to the neutron bomb?  Well. . . depending on what you read, they were dismantled in 1996 OR the U.S. has a stockpile of them.  

The people die

But the buildings? They stay.

Neutron bomb, everybody wants one.

Neutron bomb, the pentagon's got one. 

Drop it on those dirty Euro peons.  

That sung to Henry Mancini's Peter Gunn theme song made famous by New Suburbans.   I could put the "Tell me Ronnie are you going to use your Raygun," line in, but it would age the thing.  The navy kids from the nuke school that was here used to love to dance to that song.  They were near crazy for it.  

Welp. . . welp. . . you little welp. . . my battery has fallen into the teens, and though, as Epstein would say, that's a lovely place to be, I'm going to have to wrap it up.  

Maybe I should have used color.