some like it thick, others like it thinner
usually a snack, add meat then it's dinner
i always tell the waitress i want some to go
can never get enough of that good queso
top it off with some pico or some peppers
crispy corn chips make it so much better
get some rotel and the big velveeta
make your queso at home and shake up some margaritas
queso for breakfast with bacon and eggs
eat it for lunch, it's got plenty of veggies
for dinner, don't forget the meat
queso at midnight can't be beat
queso, queso, i love queso
how much i love it, you just can't know
when i lay my head on my pillow and sigh
fall alsleep and dream of queso all night
c
g
cf
cgfc
10/21/10
10/7/10
Jailer Jim
cuffed and patted, my world in tatters
just tried to keep my peace
bridgeport cop said the reason for the stop
was i was going over the posted speed
some jospeh paul got cross with the law
when he was stealing cars for cash
"that's another guy" i stared in his eyes
but he said "put your hands on the dash"
took me in to a jail made of tin
made me change into stripes
jailer jim with the tattoo tan
said i was staying for the night
figured morning would come and we'd get this done
might as well get some sleep
gave me a blanket and pad, i was kinda mad
cause i had wet socks on my feet
found a spot on the wooden cot
laid flat, closed my eyes, and breathed
started to doze when the jailer rose
he had my clothes and the key
got busted out by my long-loved spouse
when she woke the county clerk
processing error caused this terror
"wait 'til morning" ain't gonna work
driving west again to see my friends
to fish, to sing, to rest
i'll get there by six cause all this got fixed
God's Will put to the test
em
am
just tried to keep my peace
bridgeport cop said the reason for the stop
was i was going over the posted speed
some jospeh paul got cross with the law
when he was stealing cars for cash
"that's another guy" i stared in his eyes
but he said "put your hands on the dash"
took me in to a jail made of tin
made me change into stripes
jailer jim with the tattoo tan
said i was staying for the night
figured morning would come and we'd get this done
might as well get some sleep
gave me a blanket and pad, i was kinda mad
cause i had wet socks on my feet
found a spot on the wooden cot
laid flat, closed my eyes, and breathed
started to doze when the jailer rose
he had my clothes and the key
got busted out by my long-loved spouse
when she woke the county clerk
processing error caused this terror
"wait 'til morning" ain't gonna work
driving west again to see my friends
to fish, to sing, to rest
i'll get there by six cause all this got fixed
God's Will put to the test
em
am
10/6/10
I'm Counting On You
it's gonna be my way or the highway
gonna make it in this world somehow
you can take it your way and hit the freeway
you can worry about the here and now
wanna live a nice life with a sweet honey wife
ramble on the boulevard at night
i know she'll pay the price, I know she'll sacrifice
keep us from going out of sight
a woman that loves me, takes care of me
picks me up when i'm feeling down
a woman that hugs me, a woman that loves me
woman thinks she can turn this world around
(bridge)
every bridge we cross is new
every song we sing is blue
every lie we tell seems true
i'm counting on you
(repeat)
gcg
d7g
(bridge)
fc(3)
g
gonna make it in this world somehow
you can take it your way and hit the freeway
you can worry about the here and now
wanna live a nice life with a sweet honey wife
ramble on the boulevard at night
i know she'll pay the price, I know she'll sacrifice
keep us from going out of sight
a woman that loves me, takes care of me
picks me up when i'm feeling down
a woman that hugs me, a woman that loves me
woman thinks she can turn this world around
(bridge)
every bridge we cross is new
every song we sing is blue
every lie we tell seems true
i'm counting on you
(repeat)
gcg
d7g
(bridge)
fc(3)
g
9/25/10
The Proper Citizen's Perspective
extreme polarization sludge has taken over the politics of the county due mainly to the re-election process. the parties have reduced themselves to leveraging media to ignite political media bombs. collecting enough donations and getting enough votes. the actual legislation is just pay back, usually. there really should be an effort to limit terms. the unfortunate part is that what they do is actually very important and has consequences. if we got their minds off getting re-elected, they could do very good things. important things. and they still do good and important things despite the sludge. however, the other aspect of our current political state is the pure entertainment value. because this is interesting and very funny. fox and msnbc illustrate this firmly. to my daughters disgust, when i watch tube i flip around. flip from fox to msnbc. watch them cover the same stories. this might be a way to start the process of understanding both sides. the stars are in the media. the caricatures are mainly true. since downgrading politics to an entertainment level as opposed to a guiding light level in the volatile regions of my mind (same for my interested observer status toward the dallas cowboys--fandom no more), my perspective has broadened considerably. if the truth were told, bush and obama were, and are, disappointments to the extreme reaches of their own parties, especially economically. we muddle in the sludge, day after day. we get updates every night. debates, 6 on the screen at the same time. all talking. some disagreeing, some not. eventually, scope broadens and blinders fall. the proper citizen's perspective is gained.
The Final Mahut
When I walked on the tennis court for what turned out to be the last mahut of the first Isner Cup, I was weirdly optimistic about my chances to delay the inevitable end of the match. Keck had played brilliantly over the previous three months to find himself up 69-31 and after ten mahuts he was one game away from reaching the iconic 70, which would finally secure him the first match utilizing the Isner Scoring Method (ISM). After an extended warm-up, I spun the racquet to determine who would serve the first game. Keck, with a grin, confidently called up. When I looked at the butt of the racquet the Dunlop logo was clearly down and I felt like I had the early momentum. "Here comes the beast!" he said, "Your serve. Uh oh, could be your day." His condescending tone irritated me and I felt rage toward the man who, deep down, I knew would hold up the first Isner Cup later that evening.
After a few practice serves and token stretching motions, I signaled the beginning of the eleventh mahut of the isner match by raising a tennis ball in the air with my pitch hand and making eye contact with my opponent. Keck was bouncing around with light feet and his racquet was spinning in his hands. He nodded, "Mahut!", he bellowed. He wore a sky blue bandana like a crown and he was perfectly outfitted for the occasion, always preferring the most modern athletic fabrics. With the toes of my left foot, I took my spot and with a single sweeping motion, lowered the ball, took my racquet behind my back, tossed a spinless ball high in the air, arched my back, bent my legs, and exploded into my first serve. I had decided to start with a flat fastball and possibly catch Keck off guard and bouncing, waiting for the more routine topspin first serve. I plastered one down the mid line and he lunged for it after hesitating the other way. His racquet nicked it, but the fence rang loudly behind him. I was running toward the net and abruptly stopped, turned around, and walked back to the baseline. "15-love", I shouted as I positioned myself for the next service point. After a couple of bounces of the ball, I hit another nice serve. This time high and arcing with a left kick due to the topspin and follow through. Keck adjusted and made good contact with the ball with an inside out cross court forehand. I lunged to my left as I rushed the net and as the ball hit my backhand volley I absorbed the pace and dropped a dead shot just over the net. Keck stood behind his baseline without taking a step forward, "The master of the net. Like McEnroe." he said. "This could be your night. Too bad I only need a game, “he continued. I glared at him. "30-love", I said slowly with extra articulation.
As I was lining up to serve the next point something caught my eye. A pink ball was rolling across our court with a middle-teen age girl following behind. Not running, but walking fast. In obvious embarrassment and inadequacy. "I'm so sorry", she quietly muttered as she chased the ball. Hiding my irritation, I smiled pleasantly and assured her it was no problem. "Go ahead and get it", I said and she finally began running and picked the ball up. She went back to her court after another apology and I once again shouted out the score to Keck. I tossed the ball high and hit another solid shot that went in but nicked the net for a let, take two. My second first serve was swallowed by the net as I went for another flat heater. Keck hit my second serve at a severe cross court angle for a winner. "Why would someone play with pink balls?" I thought.
Keck won the next three points with laser beams and footwork, moving me all over the court in desperate reaches and loss of breath. I admired his play, though he would never know of my admiration. He was certainly worthy of the first Isner Cup. Consistent, thoughtful, and executed play. Never used a roddick; showed up mahut after mahut. The toughest loss he took was a 5-5 mahut, the same mahut I had my finest moment. My family applauded me that night. I kept the odor filled shirt on until my bedtime shower. Yes, Keck was worthy of the Isner Cup, and gracious in victory. I believe he felt sorry for me, which enraged me further. I didn't understand that about Keck. Perhaps I never will. Look who has the title. A true champion. "Wanna play the full mahut?" he asked after we shook hands at the net and downed some water. "The final mahut ends with the first to hit seventy." I said with breath-less mumble, and added, "You see, a mahut cannot be strictly defined as a 10 games, due to the final mahut having the possibility of going less than 10 games. Let's play a regular match, two out of three sets and then go get some beers."
After a few practice serves and token stretching motions, I signaled the beginning of the eleventh mahut of the isner match by raising a tennis ball in the air with my pitch hand and making eye contact with my opponent. Keck was bouncing around with light feet and his racquet was spinning in his hands. He nodded, "Mahut!", he bellowed. He wore a sky blue bandana like a crown and he was perfectly outfitted for the occasion, always preferring the most modern athletic fabrics. With the toes of my left foot, I took my spot and with a single sweeping motion, lowered the ball, took my racquet behind my back, tossed a spinless ball high in the air, arched my back, bent my legs, and exploded into my first serve. I had decided to start with a flat fastball and possibly catch Keck off guard and bouncing, waiting for the more routine topspin first serve. I plastered one down the mid line and he lunged for it after hesitating the other way. His racquet nicked it, but the fence rang loudly behind him. I was running toward the net and abruptly stopped, turned around, and walked back to the baseline. "15-love", I shouted as I positioned myself for the next service point. After a couple of bounces of the ball, I hit another nice serve. This time high and arcing with a left kick due to the topspin and follow through. Keck adjusted and made good contact with the ball with an inside out cross court forehand. I lunged to my left as I rushed the net and as the ball hit my backhand volley I absorbed the pace and dropped a dead shot just over the net. Keck stood behind his baseline without taking a step forward, "The master of the net. Like McEnroe." he said. "This could be your night. Too bad I only need a game, “he continued. I glared at him. "30-love", I said slowly with extra articulation.
As I was lining up to serve the next point something caught my eye. A pink ball was rolling across our court with a middle-teen age girl following behind. Not running, but walking fast. In obvious embarrassment and inadequacy. "I'm so sorry", she quietly muttered as she chased the ball. Hiding my irritation, I smiled pleasantly and assured her it was no problem. "Go ahead and get it", I said and she finally began running and picked the ball up. She went back to her court after another apology and I once again shouted out the score to Keck. I tossed the ball high and hit another solid shot that went in but nicked the net for a let, take two. My second first serve was swallowed by the net as I went for another flat heater. Keck hit my second serve at a severe cross court angle for a winner. "Why would someone play with pink balls?" I thought.
Keck won the next three points with laser beams and footwork, moving me all over the court in desperate reaches and loss of breath. I admired his play, though he would never know of my admiration. He was certainly worthy of the first Isner Cup. Consistent, thoughtful, and executed play. Never used a roddick; showed up mahut after mahut. The toughest loss he took was a 5-5 mahut, the same mahut I had my finest moment. My family applauded me that night. I kept the odor filled shirt on until my bedtime shower. Yes, Keck was worthy of the Isner Cup, and gracious in victory. I believe he felt sorry for me, which enraged me further. I didn't understand that about Keck. Perhaps I never will. Look who has the title. A true champion. "Wanna play the full mahut?" he asked after we shook hands at the net and downed some water. "The final mahut ends with the first to hit seventy." I said with breath-less mumble, and added, "You see, a mahut cannot be strictly defined as a 10 games, due to the final mahut having the possibility of going less than 10 games. Let's play a regular match, two out of three sets and then go get some beers."
9/18/10
Nobody To Blame
ever get to the end of your rope?
what then?
nobody to run to.
nobody to blame.
don't want to read.
don't want to work.
don't want to talk.
don't want to sleep.
don't want to breathe.
don't want to eat.
don't want to love.
don't want to be loved.
don't want to write.
don't want to type.
don't want to lie.
don't want to cry.
don't want to drink.
don't want to think.
don't want to smoke.
don't want to joke.
don't want to bathe.
don't want to cave.
don't want to cook.
don't want to leave.
pray.
what then?
nobody to run to.
nobody to blame.
don't want to read.
don't want to work.
don't want to talk.
don't want to sleep.
don't want to breathe.
don't want to eat.
don't want to love.
don't want to be loved.
don't want to write.
don't want to type.
don't want to lie.
don't want to cry.
don't want to drink.
don't want to think.
don't want to smoke.
don't want to joke.
don't want to bathe.
don't want to cave.
don't want to cook.
don't want to leave.
pray.
9/15/10
Never So Cold
what's up with you
feel a rock in my shoe
what's up with ya'll
no need to crawl
if you knew my name
could i catch your train
once i knew a prince
he was always tense
playing dominos
under a flock of crows
thought she never knew
had a rock in my shoe
start up the truck
think my tires are stuck
windows disappear
while the women sneer
ooooh, ooooh, got a rock in my shoe
oh, no my soul was never so cold
ooooh, ooooh, got a rock in my shoe
oh, no my soul was never so cold
stand here next to me
ask me what i need
despite the hands i hold
our love won't corrode
mighty to save
give me the love i crave
you're the missing piece
saved me from the beast
we're spinning our wheels
begging for the deals
it's at our fingertips
on the edge of our lips
reach out to the truth
climb up on the roof
take it to the streets
wash the beggars feet
egamd7
ame
feel a rock in my shoe
what's up with ya'll
no need to crawl
if you knew my name
could i catch your train
once i knew a prince
he was always tense
playing dominos
under a flock of crows
thought she never knew
had a rock in my shoe
start up the truck
think my tires are stuck
windows disappear
while the women sneer
ooooh, ooooh, got a rock in my shoe
oh, no my soul was never so cold
ooooh, ooooh, got a rock in my shoe
oh, no my soul was never so cold
stand here next to me
ask me what i need
despite the hands i hold
our love won't corrode
mighty to save
give me the love i crave
you're the missing piece
saved me from the beast
we're spinning our wheels
begging for the deals
it's at our fingertips
on the edge of our lips
reach out to the truth
climb up on the roof
take it to the streets
wash the beggars feet
egamd7
ame
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