I See All

Shiny Lights:

     Having finally opened the last of the mountainous pile (48,763 to be exact) of Christmas presents, I find myself in need of a respite and accompanying sober reflection. The tidal wave of holiday well-wishes has prompted me to acknowledge just how important my ramble has become to so many of you.

     Of course, genius commands that I share as much of my impressive wit & wisdom as possible - my way of sating my relentless ego giving back to the community - thus, my compulsion to provide all you need for a better life. Having said that, what better way to kick off 2012 than to release my NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS? Strap in kittens, here they come:

1. I will try to be more giving of myself this year: It's hard to imagine that I could give even more than I already do. The incessant push & pull on my time and talents is quite draining; but again, to whom much is given, much is expected.
2. I will not be so judgemental this year: Yeah, right; like the knuckle-dragging Neanderthals that surround me would even notice.
3. I will be more environmentally conscious this year: Look, I love Mother Nature, but come on - it's not like the polar ice cap has completely melted.
4. I will be a better overall person this year: Like that's even possible...

     As an added bonus, I'll also throw in my much-anticipated PREDICTIONS FOR 2012; try to keep up.

1. Season 14 of Dancing With The Stars culminates with the finals dance-off between the pros and their celebrity partners Tanya Harding, Charlie Sheen and Ernest Borgnine. In a stunning upset, the (write-in) winner is Kim Kardashian, fresh off her monumental victory in the South Carolina primary.

2. Gridlock reigns in Washington DC, as efforts to impeach Nancy Pelosi fizzle on news that she's really not alive after all.

3. The entire '12 NFL season is wiped out when enforcement of league rules regarding civil behavior begins; USPFL (United States Penal Football League) forms - Pacman Jones named Commissioner.

4. In a move that goes largely unnoticed, soccer is banned in the United States.

     Naturally, I'll develop more resolutions and predictions as the year unfolds; revealing these, along with spellbinding tales of future exploits will entertain even the most jaded skeptic.

     Yes, I know that there are those few crybaby critics out there in bloggyville that - for reasons known only to themselves and their therapists - have yet to catch the wave, and become Speed Demons. To that small number of whining dullards, I forgive you (see resolution #4, above); enter the fold - Speed's arms are wide open........

BBJ

One In A Row

Subscribers;

     Welcome to the 1st anniversary edition of Cheap Talk! Who'd have thought, those 12 long months ago, that Speed's blog would have rocketed to the top of so many reader's favorites listing? The mailbag is bursting with congratulatory messages from well wishers - many of whom now display a sycophant-like devotion to yours truly, hanging on my every word. To all of you - you're welcome!

     So in this, the 35th posting of Super Thoughts, I've decided that you all deserve a glimpse of what Tommy, Speed, Spike and the rest of my Sybil-esc iterations have been up to in the past sugar-sweet year, since we all came out of the literary closet.

DECEMBER '10:

* Inaugural edition of Super Thoughts; general indifference ensues global media outlets react with wild enthusiasm - syndication offers roll in.

JANUARY - MARCH:

* Travelled to the West African Country of Sierra Leone; reconnected with great friends / dug another latrine pit / carried blocks - part of me is still in Maboleh.

* Travelled to West Virginia (sensing a pattern developing? <West>) / learned to use a circular saw on a tin roof - awesome sparks!

APRIL - JUNE:

* A bit o' acting - Judas - obviously, an Oscar-worthy portrayal; hard for me to convey evil.

* Welcomed another grandchild into the family; not surprised that all 4 are stunningly handsome/beautiful, and well above average.

* 1st edition of theme listings: rain songs.

* Travelled to 2 weddings: Western PA (Altoona) & Western US (Cali). Fell in love with a cowgirl.

JULY - SEPTEMBER:

* Killa Flotilla - braved the mighty Susquehanna. Lead 13 trembling sailors on a perilous voyage; fell in love with a mermaid (sensing another pattern?).

* 2nd edition of theme listings: working on that wall.

* Pattipalooza X - still smarting from foul play/skullduggery; still nursing a broken heart.

OCTOBER - DECEMBER:

* Speed Demon memberships become the new "Pet Rock"; still awaiting first application struggled to respond to the overwhelming demand.

*Camping weekend; destroyed Frosty in yet another breath taking display of just how much progress remains to be made in my correspondence course on aggression control (currently sporting a 1.38 GPA thank you very much).

* 3rd edition of theme listing: songs from the crypt.

     And so, as we near the end of 2011, awash in the glow of the Christmas season, I'll offer what's sure to become an event as anticipated as the appearance of old St. Nick himself. Gather closer children, for:

SPEED'S ANNUAL HOLIDAY MESSAGE

     At this busy time, our thoughts turn inward; feelings of longing for family, friends and home dominate our ruminations. As these converge into a single, dominant stream of consciousness, it becomes ever clearer what's driving us into this frenzy - the sweet, kind, warm feelings we get when we receive Christmas gifts! Family and friends are who give us these presents; home is where we generally receive them. The toxic combination of work and responsibility corrodes those feelings throughout the year, but in December, all becomes well.

     These warm feelings are magnified with the knowledge that when we receive gifts, we're really performing a selfless act of love to those who give so generously. Scripture tells us in Acts 20:35 "....It is more blessed to give than to receive." (NIV). Clearly, receiving gifts blesses the givers far more than the recipients.

     This sacrificial act does more than just promote goodwill however; it's our civic duty to do our part to rescue our fragile economy. Remember, without gift recipients, there could be no gift givers (think about that). No gift givers means no purchases made; no purchases made means no manufacturing effort; no manufacturing effort means no businesses or factories needed; no businesses or factories means no jobs; no jobs means civil unrest; civil unrest means chaos! Is that what you really want this Christmas - a world without hope?

     I for one, reject this bleak notion and will continue my lonely crusade to accumulate as many gifts as possible. I understand that this is a thankless task, but my heart fills with pride every time I receive another Christmas present - just knowing that I'm helping someone else get by often moves me to tears.

     My voice is solitary, but my quest is honerable. Joining me in this act of sacrificial receiving will make your heart sing this holiday season as well.

     Bless you all; stay warm........

Speed

Pilgrims & Indians & Turkeys, Oh My

Gobblers:




     Nothing special to report; I'm desperately in need of attention way focused on gearing up for the inagural anniversary issue of Cheap Talk, due out next month. As an added bonus feature, watch for my Christmas list - because yes Rick W., it IS all about me!

     As such lads & lasses, I merely want to wish all the Speed Demons out there a happy, joyous, safe & sane Thanksgiving. I so love my little demons.....

     

I Hear Dead People

Groupies:

     As you know, Speed considers himself is considered by some to be the ultimate arbiter of all things pop culture; as such, my council is often sought in matters of popular music history. This being the case, I'm again offering a listing, and soliciting input, on a specific niche within the industry - Great Songs By Dead Folks. Here below, are a few that come to mind:

Rainy Night In Georgia  -  Brook Benton

Ring Of Fire  -  Johnny Cash

Rehab  -  Amy Winehouse

Jailhouse Rock  -  Elvis Presley

Me & Bobby McGee  -  Janis Joplin

Purple Haze  -  Jimi Hendrix

Peggy Sue  -  Buddy Holly

Billy Jean  -  Michael Jackson

Warewolves Of London  -  Warren Zevon

Pretty Woman  -  Roy Orbison

Dock Of The Bay  -  Otis Redding

No Woman No Cry  -  Bob Marley

Crossfire  -  Stevie Ray Vaughn

     At first blush, the foregoing baker's dozen great songs might seem a pitiful effort; I would expect those of limited capacity to think that. Dear followers, it is merely the tip of the proverbial iceberg in Speed's vast ocean of knowledge.

     So, rather than fish for you, I'm allowing you to fish for yourself, and in so doing, ascend inches higher in the never-ending quest to approximate my lofty perch in the tree-top of life. In short, I'm interested in your suggestions for this listing; there are however, caveats:
* The artist must be dead
* The artist must be more famous than their group (i.e.: Buddy Holly/Janis Joplin), or for their solo career - so, no John Lennon, no Freddie Mercury, no Kurt Cobain, no Wendy O. Williams, etc.
* The artist must be of the pop/rock/blues genre
* The artist must've made the bulk of his/her recordings post 1960

     Please add your suggestions as comments on this blog post; the reader with the most/best suggestions (my blog - my decision - no appeal) will receive one of the mostly unopened/unused inventory few remaining autographed action shots of Speed, left over from the recent membership drive.

     I can't have ALL the good ideas, can I .........?

It Was A Blast

Anticipators:

     As promised, the following is offered to sate your collective curiosity regarding my latest foray into the verdant wild. My last post explained the event and logistical details, thus sparing you a monotonous rehash of that which you already know. <For those requiring a review, do so by reading the 10/26 post (2nd paragraph) - and be quick about it!>

     Addiction called me to my post early Friday morning; however, I managed to cram a full day's fix into about 90 short minutes. After that, I set off to accomplish my mission. With a huge assist from several of the Speed Demons, I was able to secure, load, transport and deliver a fine load of firewood to our home away from home. Shortly thereafter, K2 made what by now has become an annual pilgrimage to the ranger station at (unnamed, for reasons that become obvious later) State Park. We were greeted by squeals of delight from the office staff, having by now long fallen prey to our intoxicating man-spell.  

     Naturally, we were afforded special treatment by the doe-eyed princesses that man the outpost. The 2011 camping weekend was underway; the cabins were prepared, the fire was lit. All that remained was the arrival of the balance of the prairie settlers. Unbeknownst to us however, another arrival loomed - presaged by the increasingly pendulous clouds that overhung our fir-lined retreat.

     What greeted us on Saturday can only be described as other-worldly. From a perch far to the Southwest, swooped a colossal snow bird - laying in its path a fearsome amount of snowy bluster. Of course, the weak-willed men and tremulous women, fearing for their very lives, were loathe to venture out to face the beast. Unsurprisingly, I led a small party of brave souls into the very teeth of the gale; defying even Mother Nature herself, I took on the marauder and fought it to a standstill. Victorious, I returned to the cabin to quench my thirst receive the well deserved plaudits of my fellow sojourners. Then, in what can only be described as a stunningly surreal occurrence, I discovered that the monster had delivered a gift to our cabin - Frosty the Snowman was camped just outside our door! Sadly, it seems that distaff campers are simply not blessed with the innate intuitive skills that Tommy possesses.

     While I immediately recognized this Trojan Horse, some of the party not only welcomed this interloper, but appeared so taken with it, that they began worshipping it as well! I knew what had to be done. Allowing the intruder the secure feeling of acceptance, and by so doing, placing him off-guard, I planned my actions for the following day. Trusting only a few other seasoned, battle-hardened veterans of so many of Speed's campaigns, an effective counter-strategy was devised; using several well-placed explosive devices would ensure the grinning menace's demise. Remembering the time-honored dictum, "if you kill the head, the body dies", our success was assured. Here, linked, is what followed.....http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVpH5dDQ10w&feature=player_detailpage

    

     Let it be known throughout the realm, that whosoever threatens Speed's domain shall pay the ultimate price. Once again, peace returned to our campsite. The former idolaters returned to their senses, and abundant sunshine washed upon us all. The legend grows, one remarkable feat at a time.......

    

    

A Camping We Will Go

Tenderfeet:

     This will be a brief one. I just want to alert you to my next adventure - deep woods camping. Actually, it's not all that deep, and frankly, it's barely camping at all. Essentially, we'll be living in small houses near some trees and other woodsy stuff.

     This will be the 18th iteration of the "Grand Experiment"; one that allows men to be men and women to be women. At the crux of this, is the genius of having the living/sleeping arrangements segregated by gender. This allows the strong, protective males of our tribe to effectively sequester the less aggressive, weaker females, making it easier to defend the breeding stock makes perfect sense for many reasons.

     The three day extravaganza will include plenty of eating, drinking, tomfoolery, fire, knives, spears, and perhaps an explosion or two. My next update will reveal all......

IMPORTANT MESSAGE
FROM THE TEACHER!!
     In the interest of providing the best possible experience for you, dear followers, I'll share a tip that's necessary to enjoy a fuller, richer experience with Super Thoughts. BlogSpot has obvious limitations that my musings serve to exacerbate; rendering it nearly unsuitable to host future posts; they'll hear from me soon. It just makes me shake my head.....
     Regardless, I've learned that when first landing on my blog, the post that's displayed is the first one written - nearly 10 months ago!! To view the most recent post, you must scroll allll the waaay down, then highlight the 2011 link in the right hand margin. Doing so will recall the freshest post; from there, enjoyment abounds!
     Until next time, remain strong.....
                     

Membership Has Its Benefits

Devotees:

“Step right up, ladies and gentlemen; don’t push or shove, there’s plenty available for everybody. Now, through the confluence of science and imagination, you may avail yourself of this once in a lifetime opportunity.”  -  Unknown carnival barker

“There’s a sucker born every minute.”  -  Phineas Taylor Barnum

Although this blog has achieved nowhere near the attention I crave world-wide distribution and acclaim, it’s still in its infancy.  To celebrate the looming first anniversary of CHEAP TALK, we’re launching yet another mindless venture. Yes, for as little as 7 cents a day, you too can (vicariously, of course) enjoy the awesomeness that hangin’ with me brings – as one of the Speed Demons.

Acceptance into this uber-exclusive alliance provides members with unprecedented access to yours truly. It also bestows a level of community and reverential devotion generally associated with the zealots of only a few of society’s most respected and exclusive organizations …. like Hell’s Angels, or Druids.

It works like this: simply author a request, and send it to me with your non-refundable first year’s membership dues. I’ll review your submission and, if accepted, you’ll receive a membership kit – which includes a fancy membership card (Silver Level), an autographed picture of Speed himself, in one of a variety of action shots (Gold Level) and, for the Platinum Level memberships, biographical information that’s at once informative and inspirational.

        In deference to commoners, we’ve created 3 levels of membership, designed to fit any pocketbook. There’s the Silver Level ($25/yr), the Gold Level ($50/yr) and the coveted Platinum Level ($100/yr) All Access Pass-providing a never-before available behind the scenes peek into the dank labyrinth between my ears. <U.S. currency only>

         Act now; guaranteed membership is limited to the first 1,000 responders; after that, I'll draw straws. Don’t be left behind what’s sure to become the tidal wave of popularity that's sure to be yours– http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Slv0j5USBa4. Of course, that feeling of exhiliration is fleeting - like spending 5 seconds in Heaven - but instant gratification is the lifeblood of American commerce. As such, I'll guage the response, then determine when/how to offer the Speed Brisco t-shirts, coffee mugs, lunch boxes, etc.

        Fly your flag proudly....

          

                       

                                                     

Opening The Mailbag

Betas:
     Apparently, my reach is boundless; notes, comments, questions and general inquiries continue to pour in - from the furthest corners of the webisphere.

     So, as a service to you, dear followers, I decided to publish some of the best - and my responses - in my never-ending quest to abet the general good. Here we go:

Q: Speed, what's up with this whole "bloggy" (sic) thing? Why do you do it?  -  Curious

A: Curious: Genius runs downhill; I'm only doin' my part.

Q: Sir/Madam, what are your qualifications to impart what you believe is valuable, but your readers see as pure tripe?  -  W. Buckley

A: I am not now, nor have I ever been, a Madam. Tripe THIS!

 Q: ¿Senor Velocidad, lo que te hace tan rápido?  -  P. Escobar

A: Adjetivo inteligente.

Q: How are your eyes? You seem to have a slanted view.  -  S. Pearle

A: My vision is 20/20; my view is totally amazing.

Q: Speed Brisco, why don't you post a picture of yourself, so we can see what you look like?  -  Desperate In Dallas

A: I'm somewhat of an acquired taste; my appeal is very limited.

Q: How did you get so smart?  -  S. Hawking

A: Superior genes, mostly; I'm sooo much more than the sum of my parts.

     That's enough for now kids; I'll open Uncle Speed's mailbag again in the months to come. Until then, keep those questions/comments flowin'. I'll likely continue to trash most of what I receive do my best to answer as many as I can.

     Also, watch for my next post which will contain information regarding my latest foray/descent into egomania: I intend to sell memberships to my devotees - Speed's Demons. This is gonna be awesome.........

Alpha

How It All Began

Subscribers:
     I've heard your cries from the rooftops - from the nests on the ledges, to the dormers and downspouts - I've listened to your entreats. Amidst my despair and wallowing, I've been touched by the outpouring of love, sympathy and affection that was engendered by my last missive. I'm back; better & more full of myself than ever!

     Introspection has long been a valuable component of the healing process. Fortunately, I have the most interesting of specimens with which to work. However, it was during this time that I realized that I have done you, dear students, the gravest of injustices. I have failed to educate you on the most rudimentary of topics - one which I have been repeatedly asked to clarify. So, as briefly as my cacophonic predilection will permit, allow me to finally address the issue that has so vexed you all.

The Legend Of Speed Brisco

(cue the Marty Robbins music)

Chapter 1: Humble Beginnings

     I became self-aware earlier than most; this, not surprisingly, the result of countless hours spent gazing into a reflecting pool near my childhood home. We were a poor, yet gifted lot, blessed with substantial talent, wit and charm. Rising quickly through the familial ranks, I developed a clear sense that I was a disturbingly different child special. Naturally, I parlayed this into remarkable scholastic and business success, and a model domestic life. My horizon was endless.

Chapter 2: The Revelation

     Late one evening, during a trip down South, the spark was lit! Yes, I was superior in nearly every way to those fortunate few I deigned associate with, but - to whom much is given, much is expected (rough interpretation of Luke 12:48). Given that even I cannot bend the rules of the universe to appropriate more than 24 hours in a day, it occurred to me that I could, however, develop multiple versions of myself - thereby serving to align the skewed supply and demand - for me - that existed. At the time, cloning was in its infancy and, in addition to the moral implications, I wasn't keen on the name Dolly; so that was not an option. Of course the solution was to create/invent a new/additional version of myself; it came in a flash.

Chapter 3: A Star Is Born

     As we rode aimlessly that late February evening, enjoying the gorgeous frosty view, my gaze fixed on a light of the Mother Ship's starboard bow; faint at first, it grew clearer the closer we drew. It was a sign that, though festooned in neon, advertised a humble business - the nature of which I've never been drawn to investigate. Regardless, the following is a link for that which birthed your beloved author:
        http://www.yellowpages.com/ashland-va/mip/speed-briscoe-auto-truck-stop-inc-2581067

Epilogue:

     Sadly, I fear that my co-opting of this name has resulted in popularity that far outstrips that of the business that inspired this iteration of yours truly. Since then, I've incorporated others (Tommy Geronimo, et al), but none have achieved the fame, acceptance and high regard accorded to Speed. I suspect this will remain so to the end of my days, creating a delicious conundrum that will, no doubt, be my progeny's to tackle. Thus endeth the lesson........................

                                             



The Agony Of Defeat

     As I pen this while lying in the emotional equivalent of the ICU, it will take all the restraint I can muster to avoid a meltdown - just trying to keep my rubbed-raw feelings in check. Though a dark gloom envelops me, I'll press on and report on the happenings of this weekend past.

     Saturday broke with all imaginable promise, as the day had finally arrived - PattyPalooza X was here (for those few remaining souls that do not understand the significance of this event, let me suggest you read my previous post, then return & try to remain abreast)! The food and beverages had been purchased/refrigerated/iced, the grounds were immaculately manicured, the pool was sparkling, and I, your window into this incredible world, was - as a fine thoroughbred - longing to leave the starting gate. I had trained for this moment all year; my sinewy form, taught with explosive anticipation, strained to be loosed. Upon our arrival, and at Patty's direction, we commenced what I only later learned would be a climb up heartbreak hill.

     Certainly, nothing foreshadowed the anguish that awaited me. The first day was zesty - punctuated by dips in the pool, snacks galore, adult beverages, relationships re-cemented (or, so I thought...) and a seafood banquet of shrimp and King Crab legs. Perhaps it was my preoccupation with my girls in the moon ensuring the best possible feast for our revelers that prevented me from sensing the skullguggery that was afoot. Regardless, my world would soon be shattered. I slept the innocent sleep of a child.

     Sunday dawned; I awoke to a sense of cold dread that I could not identify, but I thought, "What harm could possibly befall me, surrounded by my loyal, loving family?". It was soon after that I learned would could only be described as the horrible truth. Unbeknownst to me, a back-room deal had been cut; the centerpiece of the festival - THE WASHER TOURNAMENT - had been tampered with!

In an inexplicable and still heartbreaking turn, the teams had been "selected" by secret ballot.    Words cannot adequately express my horror to learn that my long-time partner (who shall remain unnamed, for fear of reprisals) had somehow been teamed with a younger entrant, with formidable washer skills! As the shock of this coursed through my veins, memories of prior tourneys came rushing back; words like teammates, camaraderie and loyalty flashed through my mind. Finally, though dazed by this sucker-punch, I gathered myself; then, in a manner as dignified as possible given this seismic change of events, I went behind the house and, in a scene rivaling the pathos of Greek tragedy, cried my eyes out.                    

     The first few games went smoothly enough. My new "randomly selected" teammate was skilled and battle-tested, and our team piled up one impressive victory after another. By then, I had gathered myself sufficiently to maintain a representative presence in the games. However, drained of all feeling, my skills seemed sub-standard; this owing no doubt, to the torturous visage of my former partner's playful enthusiasm with her new teammate. The monsoon-like rain that fell that evening, only served to presage what was to come with the dawn.

  The day of the finals - Monday - arrived, and the competition resumed. Though successful, their team owed little if it to my former partner's contribution; in fact, she was struggling mightily. She had somehow lost her magic, and points for her were hard to come by. It was then, that chivalry demanded action.  During a lull in the competition, I suggested a new technique that she might try to improve her results, and regain her mojo. Although sensing that I had somehow sealed my own fate, I did what I felt was the right thing - I rescued a wounded bird <see reference several posts ago>. Sadly, what happened thereafter was no surprise; taking to the new-found method like a duck to water, The Karate Kid kicked Mr. Miyagi's butt in the tournament's final game - wresting the championship, and what remained of his heart and soul, away. Oh, the injustice of it all.

                                                        

     There you have it dear friends. As I crawl inward to repair both my psyche and my pride, I leave you with this single dab of salience: no good deed truly goes unpunished. Process this and share your thoughts on my latest revelation.........     

The Legend Of PattyPalooza

                   
Citizens:

     Well, Mother Nature sure showed us who's still in charge. Let's see, in the span of 5 short days, those of us fortunate enough to live in the idyllic paradise that is the lower Susquahanna Valley, experienced both an earthquake (Richter 5.8ish) and a hurricane (Irene - Cat 1ish). Superstitious types - those who believe that these things come in threes, are awaiting the volcanic eruption that we're surely destined to experience. I scoff at such pedestrian fears, but suggest there may be another event of similarly seismic proportions on the horizon - PattyPalooza X! For those of you who don't already understand the significance of this annual soiree, permit me to bring you up to speed (so to speak).

     Long ago, in a land far, far away, there lived a beautiful Princess and her dashing husband, the Prince. They enjoyed a peaceful existance, blessed with 2 fine sturdy children, making their home in a bucolic setting, deep within an enchanted woodland. All was well. But then, inevitably, their children grew and developed interests outside their forest home.

       At first, this seemed a benign development; the empty nest had been a foregone conclusion to child-rearing, but somehow, the emptiness that enveloped the royal couple was palpable. This was especially true for the Princess - Patty. Whiling away the days with sundry employment and decorating tasks just didn't fill the void in her life that this natural progression had wrought.

     It was just after hosting the perfunctory family gathering, that the Princess had an idea; why not create an annual event for family and assorted townsfolk to enjoy? This would surely provide the missing spark and likely result in mirth and merriment for all involved. 

     

      She quickly set to the task, incorporating ideas and assistance from the farthest reaches of the kingdom. The resultant pagan festival that bears her name - PattyPalooza - was born. Over the years, the Princess and her Prince transformed their arboreal homeland into a theme park, of sorts. 

     Featured attractions, added throught the years include: the slip & slide of doom, the duck regatta, fireworks (the real ones, not those dopey fake ones), kareoke, bean bag/washer toss tourneys, talent contests, awards ceremonies, and last years' crowning jewels, the pool and Tiki bar. Theme t-shirts were added over the years, some of which made their way to other lands, destined perhaps to inspire other fair-haired princesses.

     So there you have it; as we prepare for this year's edition, the 10th, those fortunate souls holding the golden invitation tickets will surely rest their heads each night, their hearts full of wonder - anticipating what's to come. Sweet dreams.....                                    

   

Wall Paper

Vaqueros:
     For some reason lately, walls have been a recurring theme in Speed's world. as many of you know, I am an accomplished <my opinion, not independently verified> dry-stack wall builder. My skills are in high demand; this, evidenced by the plethora of requests I receive for assistance/advice for said services. In fact, at this very moment, I am considering how best to overcome significant challenges posed by yet another of these muros de piedra.
     As such, and in response to the overwhelming outpouring of opinion generated by my "Rain" post several months back, I thought I'd reprise that work of art - this time, featuring "Walls". However, instead of limiting myself to musical references only, I'd consider other genres as well. So, without further dalliance, here is my brief "Walls In Pop Culture" listing (try to keep up):

Musical Groups: Wallflowers / Wall Of VooDoo / Tilly and the Wall
Songs: Hello Walls / The Wall (duh) / Wonderwall / 99 Bottles of Beer On The Wall
Movies: The Wall (see above) / Wall-E
Other References: "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!" - Ronald Reagan / Wall Of Sound - Phil Spector

     Again dear friends, this is obviously not an exhaustive listing, but one designed merely to get your minds moving at a modicum of the warp-speed pace at which mine cruises. Please do not dissappoint me; respond with suggestions that I've deliberately omitted missed - thereby confirming your attendence at these lectures.
     This has been a stimulating exercise - so much so that I'm reminded of the inspirational words of Col. Nathan Jessup. I intend to apply this crystalized logicism as I face my current challenge: "You want me on that wall; you need me on that wall.".........
                                                   

Ea$y Come - Ea$y Go

Plebeians:  

        By now, I’m sure you all have nearly had your fill of this whole “Debt Ceiling” issue. Well I thought I’d put a capper on this and provide you, my devoted readers, with my personal thoughts on all things financial; Tommy Geronimo’s Econ 101. In some jurisdictions, the following qualifies you for Continuing Education Credits (CEUs)

     Regardless of your politics (Democrat / Republican / Tea Party / Whig), I’m guessing that the recent Beltway goings-on we’ve seen have left you flummoxed. Let me clear it up for you. You see, it’s actually very simple; if you don’t earn/make/collect enough money to pay all your bills, simply borrow some more. Here's a theorum that I heard the other day that may help explain this rationale: "If you borrow $1 million, the bank owns you; if you borrow $100 million, you own the bank".       
    A cursory review of my vast holdings reveals that, at this point, I’m about even – give or take a few dollars. However, some time ago, I examined my annual Social Security statement and, for lack of anything remotely productive with which to sate my child-like curiosity, calculated my gross earnings to that point. To my customary self-centered delight, I discovered that over the course of my working life, I had earned over $1 million dollars! Feeling rather good about that, I mentioned this to my family; they
soon reminded me that those listed earnings spanned approximately 40 years, and (doing the math) this wasn't such a remarkable accomplishment. In fact, they chided me for how long it took to reach that lofty plane. I was devastated unamused.
      Nonplussed, I returned a snappy response: not only had I earned over $1 million dollars in my life, I had spent over $1 million dollars as well - this last fact evidenced by the negligable balances in my bank accounts. No one in the room was as impressed with that as I; this, owing no doubt to my resistance to any/all attempts to instill a Puritan work ethic, during my formative years. It was after this testy exchange, staring sullenly into my bowl of Special K (what else would I eat?), that I began to hatch my latest scheme. 

     Since I had no interest in trying was unable to substantively alter the earn/spend equation by conventional means (work harder / work longer / work smarter / spend less), I should <cue the patriotic music> follow my country’s lead by borrowing substantially more money than I could ever hope to repay. This, I'm confident, will finally free me from the unbearable bonds of servitude and enable me to discard the yoke of burdensome daily toil. I’ll be rich.

      All that remains is some paperwork; I’ve done the heavy lifting by completing most of the forms, however I need your help, dear friends. Simply notify me of your interest in becoming a co-signer - first come, first serve – so I may begin to enjoy the financial freedom that most of you may only dream of.

     See you on the golf course……….

Cruisin'

      Once again, chamacos, it’s time to gather ’round uncle Speed’s easy chair and listen with rapt delight, as I spin yarns about my latest adventure.
*****But first, a word of caution: those of you prone to heartsick depression may wish to stop here – most of what will follow will likely reduce you to a fetid heap of moribund goo, as you desperately wish, with all your heart, that you could be me. Read on at your peril.*****
      The sun rose bright and strong over the mighty Susquehanna last Saturday, as your skipper and 13 pleasure boaters prepared to set sail in a southerly direction, for parts unknown. Most of the sailors were seasoned veterans of these waters, well aware of the dangers lurking just below the surface of that placid flow. The hearts pounding in the breasts of the plebes however, belied the air of confidence they tried so hard to project. The tension was palpable; nonetheless, we cast off. A few pics of the early stages of the voyage follow (group pic missing Nate, Kyle & Dave, who were off parking cars…):

      Most of what occurred over the next 6 hours was typical seafarin’ stuff - rapids to negotiate, eddies to avoid, typhoons to sail through – no real challenge for yours truly. Then, appearing seemingly from out of thin air, there she was. Posed before me was a real live mermaid; the beauty of this creature was other-worldly! Like a siren, she beckoned me closer and closer..... Naturally, being the keen minded, scientific type, I understood quickly the value in documenting this occurrence. In no time, this gorgeous creature was captured in full 5 megapixel glory. But then, as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone. I pondered this, then realized the true nature of my treasure; she didn’t belong to me – she never did (que the sappy music). As heartbreaking as it was, I knew I had to let her go. Although I no longer have her digital image, I do remember what she looked like. Working as best I can from memory - here, in spectacular detail, is my treasure of the sea:
                                                                 
      Whilst I was otherwise engaged however, the crew fell into a mutinous grumble, fueled in no small part by what they felt was the interminable nature of the voyage. They discussed charting their own course. But just as the knives were about to be drawn and a plank prepared - finally, the sound we’d longed for those many nautical miles was heard; waves lapping against a distant shore. Land ho!

     Our makeshift city was soon erected and we at once turned our attention to the real purpose of our voyage, consuming our repast, firin’ up our smoke sticks and emptyin’ our tankards of grog healthy mature camping fellowship. Here’s evidence of that:   

      After a restful evening spent in nylon cocoons, the band of brigands awoke to the impossibly delicious aroma of Uncle Speed’s River Chow. Though only suited for real men (maybe the reason all did not partake), the wafting scent of this amazing brew surely tempted even the vultures that, oddly, seemed purposeful in their tracking of our journey the previous day. Soon enough though, we were back on the waves, charting a homeward course that wove us past the Statue Of Liberty (Dauphin County’s version), and ultimately brought us safely to the shores of Fort Hunter, USA.

      So there it is, darlings; off to bed with you now, as Tommy prepares for new adventures. Some of them will be newsworthy, others, not so much – all however, merely serve as shallow preludes to the highlight of this, and every social season, PattiPalooza X. Stay tuned.
      PS: I’m considering a name change for this, the most amazing information outlet since the demise of Rupert’s News Of The World. My working title is “Talk Is Cheap” (never more obviously so than a review of the annuls of this blog reveals). Gimme your thoughts on that - or feel free to suggest another. All input will be considered; only mine will prevail…..