Coldest Winter

I found this beautiful winter poem and thought it might be a comfort to you.
It was to me and it's very well written and I hope that you enjoy it too .

" WINTER "

by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre



Shit It's Cold

The End

Thanks to Allison of Palm Beach. Her tree are dying from the cold.

"It was the coldest winter in nearly 40 years."

It wasn't always that way and maybe it won't be again, but I remember driving to Florida in April 1971. Chet, Paul Keenan, Moose, and I headed for Fort Lauderdale. It was spring break. We had rented a house across from the infamous Elbow Room. The Sunshine State's drinking age was 18. The four of us were legal. This was our first interstate road trip. We crossed the state line around 9pm. WBZ was on the radio. The Boston station was broadcasting the NHL play-offs. Bruins-Canadians. We were leading 'les Habitants' by 2 goals in the 3rd period. The station's 50,000 kilowatt signal gave out at the 'free OJ' welcome stand. We reached Fort Lauderdale at dawn. We went to swim at sunrise. I read the morning newspaper on the beach. The Bruins has lost 7-5. None of my friends cared about the loss.

We were on a beach with girls in bikinis.

There was no more winter.

Until 2010.

YOU SEND ME - Sam Cooke

Network TV is on the verge of obsolescence. Too many commercials. Shit programming. My new apartment came with a TV. I exiled it to the closet, although PBS sometimes has shows of interest like tonight's documentary of the 60s' smoothest voice, Sam Cooke. I knew that Sam Cooke had died young in 1964.

At the age of 31.

What I didn't know was that the soul singer had been shot dead at the Hacienda Motel in Los Angeles. The LAPD ruled by shooting by the hotel manageress as justifiable homicide since the Mississippi native had reportedly attacked the woman in a near-naked state, however Etta James had reputed the finding after seeing the corpse. The Chess Records singer declared that the body showed the signs of a devastating beating.

The gun wounds sounded more like a coup de grace.

No one argued with the LAPD in those days.

Not whites, blacks, or latinos.

So tonight watch PBS at 9pm to catch what Same Cooke had to offer the future.

Perfection 1968

From1/10/2010

I was 16 in 1968. My favorite band was the Rolling Stones. The year they released BEGGARS BANQUET.

Rolling Stones - No expectations / You can't always get what you want

Live.

"I saw her at the reception. A glass of wine in her hand. I knew she was going to meet her connection."

Classic.

I'm nearing 60 now. The Stones are still #1 and this YouTube entry shows why.

My Team Sucks

I never played organized football. My backyard was the playing field for my most important games. Rules were optional. There was no padding. Conditions were cold New Englandesque. My cousin Russell came closest to being a star. As a freshman he ran back a punt for a touchdown against my Alma mater Boston College. After that feat he recognized that he would never make it in the NFL.

"That run was a once in a lifetime thing. Everyone is too big."

Russell and I now experience out-of-the-body football ecstasy through the NFL.

Sundays.

Beer and football.

None of us speak of Afghanistan.

The Patriots were good to me through the 00s.

And other years as well.

Go Steve Grogan.

"I hear people say that I was one of the toughest quarterbacks to ever play. But I wish they would say I was pretty good, too." —Steve Grogan

They sucked today, then again the sun doesn't get to shine on the same dog's ass every day of the year.

I sat at Frank's with Tim throughout the entire debacle. He's Jets fan. Tim poured extra drinks on the owner. I was the only patron. My last drink was Jamesons. It really does taste of Ireland and that taste takes away the bitter sup of defeat.

Wait until next year.

We Aren't Alone

It's good to know that the fellow Anglo-Saxons from the Antipodes are fuck-ups too when it comes to trains.

'THIS TRAIN IS FUCKED'.

Waltz Mathilda Alright.

No Red Lights - No Worries

California has a budget deficit of billions. The federal government has no intention of bailing out the failing economy of the nation's largest state, so Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger has been seeking alternative methods to save and make money. Earlier in the week he proposed cutting the prison population along with privatizing the penal institutions. State workers have unpaid day's off and certain offices are closed for extended periods of time. This cost-cutting tactics might save money, but the only way to get money is to make it, so the 'ex-Terminator' has suggested the installation of speed cameras on red lights.

$225 for those driving faster than the speed limit and $325 for those going more than 15 mph over the legal speed.

The car culture of California is understandably upset by this measure aimed at adding nearly a half-billion dollars to the state coffers.

Revenue piracy is what it is, although I tend to drive the speed limit in congested areas. During this spring's tour of the Midwest with Peter Bach I obeyed every traffic edict by avoiding the interstates. 100 mph was my average speed on the roads of Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, and Iowa. Back roads and old state highways. Not a single cop or a red light for 2000 miles.

And I maintained my unblemished driving record.

If Arnold really wanted to close the debt gap, he should legalize marijuana 100% and tax the sales.

Problem solved in one year.

Meep Meep.

Coyote Crazy

Wiley the Coyote survived countless seemingly fatal disasters during his cartoon career. None of his plans to capture the Roadrunner ended in success, despite the aid of the Acme Corporation. Wild dogs in Thailand are much less lucky and this past summer I hit one outside of Chai-nat.

Thump.

I thought it dead and kept on driving.

My ex-wife later said that my leaving was a good idea.

"Stopping would have only led to trouble."

I rode by the spot the next day and examined the pavement. Not a trace of blood or guts. Maybe the dog had been lucky, although not as lucky as a wild coyote in the western desert of the USA.

This story comes from Allison of Palm Beach.

Daniel and Tevyn East were driving at night along Interstate 80 near the Nevada-Utah border when they noticed a pack of coyotes near the roadside on October 12. One of the animals ran in front of the car, the impact sounded fatal so the siblings thought there no point in stopping.

'Right off the bat, we knew it was bad,' Daniel explained. 'We thought the story was over.'

After the incident around 1am, they continued their 600 mile drive to North San Juan - even stopping for fuel at least twice. Upon reaching their destination at 9am they examined what damage their car may have sustained during the collision.

'[Daniel] saw fur and the body inside the grill,' Tevyn East said. 'I was trying to keep some distance. Our assumption was it was part of the coyote - it didn't register it was the whole animal.'

Daniel East got a broom to pry the remains out of the bumper and got the shock of his life.

'The coyote flinched,' Tevyn East said. 'It was a huge surprise - he got a little freaked out.'

Wildlife officers freed the coyote from the car.

Guess that they had a lot of practice from saving Wiley Coyote's life after the cartoon character's various failures to capture his prey. Unless each reappearing Wiley the Coyote was a resurrected clone like Alice in RESIDENT EVIL.

So many lives to give.