Secret Society?

Uncle Bubba begrudgingly pulled the old Ford into the filling station. Watching the rolling gas prices on the station signs is much like watching the spinning displays on a Las Vegas slot machine. Uncle Bubba gambles at the gas game like a New York stockbroker plays the stock market; should I buy now or will the price drop tomorrow? Does he have enough fuel in the tank to ride it out for a few days? After all, filling up a pickup truck these days makes his bank account drop like a lead zeppelin. This also influences the way he drives, he's less likely to get on it and git-r-dun! These days he tends to feather the accelerator a little but more. But that doesn't go for everyone; why just the other day he had his doors blown off by an old fart in a big ol' Crown Vic. You've seen the type, a hard looking old dude with his little old lady's head barely peeking above the passenger's side window waaaaaaay over on the other side of the car from the old man behind the wheel. Bubbie glanced at the Crown Vic as it passed and he noticed the license plate with a smile. Apparently this old fella is a member of a secret society, the Freemasons. Uncle Bubba knows because it was engraved on the license plate!

Obviously keeping a secret is not a requirement of belonging to this particular secret society. The Freemasons are factitiously tied to other historic secret societies that have ostensibly shaped the world. They deny, with a nod, the affiliation with presidents and other world leaders. Bubbie thinks that having brains is not a requirement either on account of the number of members that are our political leaders. For that matter, being rich and having smarts aren't necessarily tied together but that's a whole 'nuther story. Grumpy old men driving around in gas guzzlers with masonic symbols glued to their trunks seem innocuous, but how much power must they be affiliated with to get state license plates? If you watch TV and listen to the news you'll undoubtedly hear how bad these economic times are. But if you look at what is going on around you, you'll notice that there are an awful lot of people, with a lot of money going about their business. In Bubbie's view, they don't want you to notice and since the dawn of time, have travelled within their own circles so as not to draw attention to themselves... even them grumpy old FNC lovin', masonic trunk decoratin', tea baggers.

President's Day On The River

Uncle Bubba celebrated President's Day in fine fashion; he spent a few glorious hours drifting peacefully along the river. Strong breeze blew and and gusts pushed his small craft from bank to bank as he rudders it with his paddle. These placid moments are a welcome relief to the stresses he's had lately. Leaning back he watches a flock of ibis as they skitter across the beautiful blue sky, the sun flashing off of the white feathers.

The speed of the flock is rousing as they streak overhead in orchestrated figure eights and s-turns angling for the trees on the river's shore. Like clown acrobats with silly long noses and knobby twig legs they dance among the tree tops

only to jump back up into the air again; maybe it's the wind, or their nerves, or in Bubbie's view they may have just been havin' fun.

The Ol' Black Truck

Uncle Bubba took advantage of the beautiful sunny weather today and gave a little TLC to the ol' black Ford. She's been garage bound for the past year while Bubbie has been living and working on the road, until recently only coming out for occasional short jaunts running errands. Since Uncle Bubba has been working at the ranch with the Duke he's run the ol' Ford up the road regularly for a couple weeks and he's noticed the old girls finish hasn't been gleaming in the sun. She was dull and streaked and not looking as she should. So today Bubbie rolled out of the rack, backed her out of the garage and suds'd her up. Just washing the layer of lime rock dust off of her, he was sure made her feel better. Then came the Turtle wax; not just one coat but two. He treated the vinyl and plastic to a soaking massage with armor-all type protectants and washed the windows and mirrors. A big job but one done out of affection.

While Bubbie rubbed each section of the black metal skin he cringed at the many scrapes and scars on the ol' truck. The more he buffed the finish to a shine it occurred to him just how many jobs the two of them had done together and much more than that, after Bubbie moved on from so much construction work the ol' Ford still took him many miles with many smiles. Being always steady and dependable got the ol' Ford more often than not overlooked. But isn't that the case for most of us? The squeaky wheel gets the grease but the strong steady types get used, and reused. It's taken for granted that a steady bloke will be at the ready, cover the bases, deal with the situation, have your back, see it through, cut the mustard, and go the extra mile at the drop of a hat. Now, in Bubbie's view the ol' black Ford will look good gettin' it done.

Down But Not Out

Recumbent on his couch, Uncle Bubba looks out of his window at the budding trees blossoming against the beautiful cobalt sky. Spring is just around the corner. Bubbie has procured a rhino virus and is drowsily drifting through the day. Slipping in and out of consciousness, he passes episodes of TV programs wondering what was on and what he's watching now. It doesn't really matter since there is nothing of any value on the television anyway, but who isn't down for a good movie.

It's also Sweet Pea's birthday today and he is lamenting that he can't party like he'd like to. She is so good to him and treats him like a king and she deserves so much. He got the old Ford pointed up the rode and picked up some KFC with mashed taters and slaw and picked up a cake so at least they'll have a little treat. Luckily they was havin' a chicken sale and he scored a 10 piece for the price of a six. Sweet Pea ought to be happy.

Isn't it often at these times when one may be laid up that we consider all of the things that we'll do when we're feeling better again. This is the way it is for Bubbie. Being one that has to always be doing something, it's difficult for him to just lay around. He tries to look ahead at better days and appreciate what a lucky guy he is for having relatively very good health. He's certainly had his share of wrecks and near death experiences as any red-blood American boy has... well, he's not too sure about the post video game era of American boy; in Bubbie's view they seem a little soft.

But the days are getting longer and better days are on the horizon. Bubbie has a list of projects to get accomplished around the homestead and the Duke has a list for him too. So he'll rest for the remainder of  of the day and dream of adventures to come.

A Muster of Storks

Uncle Bubba had a little time on his hands and went out for a stroll. Always on the outlook for any wildlife, something stark white caught his eye and noticed a muster of storks hiding out along the riverbank. It must have been a slow baby delivery day.

Horsing Around

Uncle Bubba had to go see a man about a horse... literally. The Duke called and said he was heading to the Oak Ridge training center to take delivery on a high strung hay burner and wanted to know if Bubbie wanted to oblige him in getting the equine unloaded from a trailer. Always up for an adventure with the Duke, Bubbie rode shotgun over to the training facility.

Oak Ridge is one of many horse racing training facilities in the area and typical of what you might find at any; long barns of well maintained stalls, piles of wood shavings, sawdust and horse manure, beautiful long-legged, muscled animals and herds of brown, spanish speaking gremlins earnestly attending to the thoroughbreds.

Uncle Bubbie watched as so many of the expensive and pampered animals were walked inside wooden rings, one gray ghost coyly peaking out at Bubbie in the cool morning air.

There are miles and miles of brown wooden fence surrounding grazing horses and a long, mile and a half track down the hill from the barns where the jockeys exercise the galloping athletes.

It's when one comes across an environment as this that one realizes the extent of immigration, legal or otherwise, has ballooned in America. Would anyone argue that money equals power? So the ones that hold the purse strings control the situation and they don't want you to know that while they are vehemently objecting to illegal immigration on Fox News, they are the very cause of it; hiring indentured servants at a cut rate price to serve their every menial need. In Bubbie's view, it has become a supersaturated solution and, sadly, passed the point of no return.

A Lumbering Lightness

Hey Y'all. Uncle Bubba thought we should document this refreshing rarity. For the uninitiated, here are pictures of a true lumberyard.

Yes, long before the likes of Home Depot and Lowes Walmartized the landscape of building material establishments, we used to be able to drive our pickup trucks into the yard next to the store that was abundantly stacked with piles of lumber.

One could pull up to the stack and load it directly onto the bed of a truck, often with yard employees assistance, and drive out paying at a drive-up booth.
What an efficient, time saving, and convenient idea!

Yet today's mega home improvement stores have put most of these lumberyards out of business, gone like so many mom and pop stores decimated by Walmart and the like. Now a hard working man has to park his pickup, get a cart and wheel it into a store, push it around loading lumber, wheeling it to the checkout counter, push it through the parking lot, then load it onto their truck, and as any decent person should do, return the cart to a designated area. In Bubbie's view, wasting time handling and re-handling, loading and re-loading lumber is best for the store, not the poor guy trying to make a living. Well, let's hope that the true lumberyard doesn't completely disappear 'cause they just make good sense.

Missing In Comedic Karma

Recently, Uncle Bubba was contacted by an old friend. Not just any old friend, but is oldest bestest friend. As the two were coming up as young cubs they were nearly inseparable and what mischievous stunts they didn't think of and crazy adventures shared. Their friendship was reinforced by a quick and slightly twisted sense of humor that carried them through the most awkward of teenage exploits. They could entertain one another for hours on end and Bubbie cannot think a a single time that they ever had a cross word or argument. In each other's company it was all fun, all the time. But then as young men their travels took them in different directions and before long they were miles apart both figuratively and literally.

Now, speaking for Uncle Bubba, his desire is to set the record straight. Of course we all know that each of us always wants to set the record straight, which only means their perception of the truth. In light of this, Bubbie is old school in most of his characteristics. He wears his heart on his sleeve and is fiercely loyal to a fault. His kind of love can be consuming and overwhelming to a weaker constitution. So when he says that he loved his bestest friend, he does not make the statement lightly. But here's the rub; Bubbie never realized that no one, and I mean no one thinks like he does. He thinks that his odd eccentricities are normal behavior to the rest of the world, except that he can't find it in anyone else and that creates his internal angst and mind bending turmoil. So Bubbie's record may be a little off center of reality, but its earnest.

Uncle Bubba has had previous "reconnections" with old friends in the past that did not go well at all so he avoids the process to the point, some may say, of hiding out, you know, keeping an unlisted number and guarding his identity online--no Facebook. So when his oldest bestest friend contacted him his stomach flip-flopped and his heart raced. Would this really be a good thing or another heart-wrenching heartache? His sensitive innards do not do well with heartache.

Straight up, Uncle Bubba loves his Sweet Pea. Has for nearly 30 years. She has been, is now, and forever will be his sweetheart and best friend and they have been through hell and high water together. They've invested in one another and have reaped the rewards of their devotion day in and day out. When Bubbie and his oldest bestest friend parted ways, Sweet Pea was there. She became Bubbie's total devotion. She knows Bubbie like Carl Sagan knew the cosmos. He was enamored by it's particles and understood the forces of energy on heavenly bodies such as motion and gravity, but for every super nova there is a black hole, and sides to planets never seen not to mention the vacuity between the particles. One could never know it all. As much as Sweet Pea is Bubbie's everything, our souls contend with our humanity. To quote John Donne, no man is an island.

So Bubbie and his oldest bestest friend have reconnected and in Bubbie's view it has been a blessing. His oldest and bestest friend, McFisher, short of Sweet Pea of course is still the nicest, most genuine and funniest person that he knows. And this reuniting revealed something missing in Bubbie's life like finding a lost jigsaw puzzle piece in the couch cushions, reigniting a spark of fun in Bubbie's life that could only come from an intimate kinship and he now has someone in sync with his wacky sense of humor. In Bubbie's view, is there anything better than when someone else gets it?

Utterly The Best Calfateria

Uncle Bubba has been helping the Duke out around the ranch. They've been rearranging one of the barns and adding a kitchen to the barn apartment. While taking a break, Bubbie sat looked around at the plethora of farm contraptions and one thing in particular caught his eye. This is by far the best pail that he'd every seen in his entire life! And he's still laughing about it...