Wednesday, March 13, 2019

Golden Slumbers

No. 13 of 31 - Thermometer series

The all-out effort of the thermometer drive is a massive thing, taking up most of my energy. The little I’ve got left -- dragging myself along maybe an inch or two, then resting -- I’m watching TV, vainly struggling to keep up with my movies. I recently got a super streaming service that lets me record unlimited stuff. So I’m busy recording movies all day and all night, and so many in vain. Except for the four or five a week I squeeze in.

The rest of my energy, except for taking the dog out, is focused on this all-out effort — absolutely no time for anything else! — of making this blog the most read and adored blog anywhere. And, yes, that has to include the famous Pashtun and Iraqi herdsmen, known everywhere as the best and most successful bloggers on earth. Right up there. My quest may be impossible, but, baby, I'm in the game! Driving, striving with all my might to attain those heights. And showing my progress in thermometers erupting -- bushels of thermometers! -- the mercury flowing quickly toward the top and spraying everywhere. (No visitors, please, it's taken several eyes out.)

Movies I don't have to have. One thing I have to have is sleep. Oh, I love sleeping. Which isn't hurting the thermometer drive at all; it's an essential part. Because when I get sleepy, folks, I’m not good for anything. I’m drooping, drowsing, losing focus, nodding off, then bolting upright, passing out, and virtually dead. If I’m home, I totally crash on the bed. If I’m at one of our temporary blog headquarters — and there’s people everywhere lifting my spirits — I do what I can. I crawl under a desk, I’m in a broom closet, I’ve got my head on someone’s lap. That’s a good one, because if he or she is hungry I can hear their stomach growling, and nothing puts me to sleep faster. Which must be a thing we pick up in utero, the sweet indigestion of our dear mothers.

My dreams are all sweet, too, mixed in with snatches of the movies and the confused happenings of the drive. Like having a gangster movie on, with them shooting it out for turf, I'm dreaming of thermometers blowing their tops like guns. When awake I'm more patient. But asleep, I expect instant satisfaction: Blow it off now now now! With all those eruptions representing so many people around the world liking the blog, reading it, sharing it with their fellow tribesmen, teaching it to their kids, and essentially going crazy with hog-wild delight.

The Pashtun, the Intuit peoples groups, African tribesmen, it doesn’t matter who you are or what kind of blog you run, you want to see a guy like me succeed. That’s how they got to be such respected tribesmen, attention to detail and a subtle mixture of love and hatred for their enemies. They might knife you in a second, as soon as look at you, but they're just as fast to hit the like button or subscribe. Actually very sweet guys, I consider them buds on the overall world scene.

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