Years ago if someone had said the word “Change” in my presence I would have thought they wanted my pocket change.  I would never have moved it forward, thinking in terms of past and present into future.  Now change is always present.  There is no getting comfortable, no feeling of slipping on comfy duds and falling back to reflect a day of work.  There’s no way to be comfortable.  Every move is countered, every attempt is blocked.

The next great movie should be written around the theme of aliens that come in search of the worst virus that ever struck mankind.  The virus spread due to a glitch in the fabric of time. Mankind of course allowed the glitch to happen.  The aliens have to stop the virus or it will destroy everything in the universe.  That dreaded virus is none other than time. Can the aliens stop it?  If they do, will it destroy everything mankind has completed to date?  The small squares of segmented time have become dangerous time bombs. Will the aliens just crush mankind and return home?  It’s coming to theaters somewhere in the next universe…stay tuned.

I wrote a book years ago, around 93-94 when I lived on the Mississippi coast and dealt poker at the Grand.  It was about magic and the element of time.  A full 22 chapters – and always vowed to go back and edit it since it was splotchy on certain things.  I still like the theme and the title ‘The Chapters of Time” but I guess I let myself down by not revisiting and rewriting. Funny, there isn’t one poker hand or casino or deck of cards in it.  How weird! And it’s not about aliens coming to earth looking for a virus…that just blew in out of nowhere.

So here’s a severely weird happenstance – this is my fourth blog in five days.  How possible you ask?  Not sure.  I was starting to wonder if I would ever take up the cyber pen and begin to knock the dust and cobwebs out of Tango. Many times I’ve thought I SHOULD be here, but I didn’t want to be here.  I suppose that’s the key for me, perhaps not for others that seem to pen regardless of mood – some are gifted with being able to just sit down and words flow out onto paper or the virtual notebook, but I am not.  I have to force myself to write at times and then it’s a complete drag. I painfully search for words and ways to make them fit together to tell a tale.  *sniff*

Then I should assume that my being here is part of ‘change’ and I’m in the mood.

Another part of ‘change’ is that after waiting for months for a release to be recorded on the property I live on, the glorious moment of signing and recording to list me as the home owner will take place in about a month.  It’s been a long ordeal filled with stress – the details won’t be written here – but soon it should all resolve.

I’ve often traced back to the moment when I made the insane decision to sell the old digs and move into an RV and travel the country.  It was a horrible financial disaster for me.  Huge amounts of money went out the door – never to be recovered and no way to even clear it up now.  Timing really is everything.  If someone had just tied me up and locked me in a closet for a few months with a recording that played over and over “You love your house, don’t do anything stupid!” as the fan blew cooling air on my brow and the blindfold over my eyes kept the world away, I would have been so much better off financially.

As soon as I invested a small fortune in the RV and put the house on the market, real estate did the dive into hell. And diesel went sky high. Hotels were crying about RV parks renting out so cheaply (I can’t remember all the hoopla but it was there) and the prices to stay in a park went up. My mobile internet was around $90 a month – after I invested $5K for the Motosat dish.  Nothing worked out the way I thought it would/should.

The RV has been setting down at a RV sales office for over seven months – on consignment.  No bites.  Nothing is moving.  Oh yeah!  I owe on it!  They called me today to see if I wanted to come in and drag it home – not exactly their words but used 5th wheels just aren’t in high demand. Damn! I have to dig up the expired registration on it and take it into DMV to get a temporary moving permit first.  Can’t figure out where the hell I hid that at.  The phone call from the RV store was really depressing, until then I had hope that it might sell…

So this is a going nowhere ramble about life.  But I’m going somewhere, I have a date with my chair here in a few.