Catching Up With Curmudgeon


Geography quiz: What’s located between the cities of Santa Fe, NM and Denver, CO?

If you answered “nothing”, you are smarter than a fifth grader. Two-lane blacktop cuts through miles and miles of dirt and rocks as you dodge tumbleweeds and elk carcasses at 80 mph. A complete lack of any signs of life always makes me feel like I’m being watched, adding a touch of unfounded fear to the deafening silence.

By the time I reached Denver, I’d forgotten how to drive in traffic. From there, Boulder’s just a quick hop to the northwest, the terminus of my roughly 500 mile journey.

Jesse and I settled into our cabin in the mountains and then I drove downtown to patronize a most unusual establishment called Terrapin Care Station. This is a store where you can walk in, hand some cash to the chirpy hippie gal behind the counter and in return, she’ll hand you a container of weed. For a moment there, I thought I was falling in love with the chirpy hippie gal behind the counter until it dawned on me that I was simply falling in love with the notion of someone being so happy to supply people with marijuana. It’s a glamorous job.

There are also, if you know where to look, a few of the most endearingly odd chickens currently walking the earth. One of them pecked Jesse in the nose because he just couldn’t keep it out of their coop. They look like this:



I met two friends who were already friends but now they are friends in the un-virtual sense. And they are both far more wonderful and hilarious and warm and just plain awesome than their blogs would lead you to believe, and that’s saying something. So if you don’t already, I highly recommend that you give their pages a read:

Brooke:  Summoning Magic: A Gypsy’s Tale


Tanya:  The Incurable Dreamer

Jesse proved himself a perfect travel companion on our first ever road trip together since I sprung him from the pound.

I was offline for 4 days and as my little cabin/motel was surrounded by mountain trails and rushing creeks, I didn’t take in much TV. As a result, I didn’t find out that Charles Manson died until I arrived home yesterday, a tad too late to get on here and knock out a tribute post. A shame, really, since I’ve more than once used him as my muse in composing blog posts; it almost seems ungrateful of me to not give him a proper send-off. But life happens sometimes, even to me, so I’m afraid Charlie will have to make due with my Easter tribute that I will repost shortly.

In the meantime, here’s this:

6 thoughts on “Catching Up With Curmudgeon

  1. Sounds like a wonderful retreat, brother. Like Mer I think there’s definitely two RIPs and one BIH to hand out. In the latter case, though, that guy just might take the place over. 😉

    Great vid. As I wait for my relief to show up I needed a laugh. Welcome back!

    Liked by 1 person

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