Midwest Represent

Back in the day when I was a teenager...

Growing up out in the middle of nowhere.

The grass was green. The summers hot and muggy. There was total, complete and absolute freedom there. We are still kings there. And our kingdoms wait for news from a far. Be brave and bold young men and women.

Chase dreams and be absolutely true to yourself. The days seem short and the nights are long and full of opportunity. Do not be afraid to step through into the darkness and do what you must do.

We are waiting for you to come. But let it be known that each pays his or her own way with blood and hardships. For that is apart of what we are and always will be. The long cold winter is in us all. There out of necessity.

Long Live the Conzz!!!

One word... "wow."

How time gobbles and nips at us all.

Me, I'm just overweight, trying my best to keep up with people 30 years my Jr. in software engineering and programming, but can't whine as I have (corrected) vision that is far better than tolerable, no problems peeing or getting a boner, have hair (my barber lust's after it!), only a mild blood pressure medication, some allergies, can still hear... out of both ears..... geez, like what's to complain about? I sometimes think my experimentation in the 60s-70s interferes with my comprehension of new paradigms, complex math and fundamental logic, I can't play my trombone for more than 10 minutes w/o getting pissed (totally my problem... I know, what can I expect when I get the thing out twice a year?), can't seem to work up a good lust for memorizing sports figures' names and statistics, would rather watch a move on my laptop, read a book, watch The Simpsons and look at pictures of naked women than read a book on JavaScript, ASP.NET, Visual Basic or SQL Server (is that a bad thing?... I don't know anymore), or eat BBQ'd pork hot off the grill! I can't manage more than a beer a month, but can slug through whiskey like it's water (still no liver problems!), and after more years in the Bay Area than I care to mention, I really don't give a fig about legs or tannins in wine!!! Gave up my motorcycle riding some years ago, but sometimes I really do think that retirement should be a great Harley, lot's o' whiskey, a front porch somewhere, music floatin' in the breeze, and a nice red-headed girl next to me. I'd love to grow tomatoes, sweet basil and pot, cook for my friends and daughter (we want to start a restaurant called "Food on a Stick" where everything is served on a stick... really... no, I mean realy!...) and her friends, if grand kids come along I want to have time for them..., oh, and write the definitive American novel... about geezing crank in flop houses in San Francisco.... or there abouts (never did that myself, but watched way too many beautiful young people go through it).Ê

I am grateful. I'm grateful for my past, for the friends I've known... for the friends that've honored me with their patience, company and wisdom. I have more stories to tell than most anybody I've met... probably more than anyone should. I have more notions, theories, and lies than any decent person ought to for sure, and have had far too many sexual relations, spiritual highs, conversations with gods, un-award winning ideas, clients, associates, wives, enemies, habits, depressions, tears, laughter, belly aches, and gas to be considered [one of the oft referred to as] normal.

By all rights, I should have spent far more time in jail, contracted some terrifyingÊcommunicable disease, become fabulously wealthy... or just become fabulous..., have lost all voluntary bodily functions, been in witness protection, been married more often, been slapped, laughed at by teenage girls in the mall, lost all sense of morality or fashion and been found mumbling incoherently in Bermuda shorts, aÊ beret, and silver sneakers in a shopping mall in Akron, Ohio, found dead in a culvert in nothing but dark blue tights, shaved my head and joined the Marines or the Hari Krishas (I think I did one of those but not sure which), leaned to play the accordion, did I mention anything about being slapped?, not have touched her... well... you know, leaned Russian, leaned English, learned to drive, mimed, gotten my license back, released the weasels sooner, and most importantly... now listen carefully children... learned the value of lots of lubrication.

More important thanÊ sun block would be the right size underwear, and I'm pretty sure coffee is another word for nectar. Oh, and I'm not really one for men's neckties, but I tell you what... when that stupid teenager breaks into your house with a shotgun, there's some pretty amazing things you can do with one (that little shit hasn't been able to talk or turn his head over his right shoulder since 1973!).

And when all is said and done, when the dust clears and the lights dim, when the bar closes and Officer Angalita says it's time to go home.... well, just remember, if nothing changes... nothing changes! Think about it.

Ahh Haa, my man... whadday think? Am I totally fucking insane? Have I finally lost it? Should I just go ahead and put the toaster in the bathtub now?
Your bro...

conzz