TOTALLY RANDOM POST II

[D. B. Doober]

Trip kicked my ass hard.

Arms, legs, back and neck all in pain, though it's seemingly in great part a neurological-based or sourced pain, as it travels all around, but for the places it's steady.

Fishing was marginal at best, but the eagle that kept me company on my solo trip last year was still there and put on some displays in front of our cabin. I caught an impressively fat, orange-fleshed 25-1/2" male trout that appeared to be a female. Beautiful fish. More gold in the leading edges of the fins than is typical for that lake, and he'd clearly been feeding really well. He'll eat just fine this evening.

Pics of the trip to follow, as my oldest son has them on his phone camera.

Limited stories of overflow, though nothing too catastrophic. We're still here.

Got to the motel room in Tok Jct. on the way home and took a muscle relaxer, a couple tequila and pomegranate juice beverages, and a few tokes of black hash, then submerged my upper torso and abdomen in some very hot bathtub water. Stayed there until the muscle relaxer kicked in and I figured I ought to get out of the tub while I still could.

2 nights ago I did about 7.5 mg of oxycodone and another 10mg of Flexeril (more of those items than I've eaten in the last year, plus). Slept for about 5 hours without waking.

This morning my back isn't in quite as much pain.

Spoke with the nurse at the oncologist's office via telephone about symptoms of when the cancer I have enters the spine; a no turning back point. C'est la vis.

She mentioned scans, and I explained the difference in tangible resale value of the last $8,000 in scans, versus the $18,000 in snowmobile I bought instead of non-conclusive and disappointing medical scans. Told her I'd tried to re-sell the scan results, but no one seemed interested.

Overall, a good trip with my oldest son. learned and/or observed some things about him as a person. His now more apparent 'disabilities,' along with his incessant use of BHO, and his sleep patterns, motivation, and some degree of developmental arrest re. the self in interaction with the world. He's fairly high functioning, but definitely on his own plain so to speak, and it occurred to me that maybe all along he's been a high-functioning guy with some form of autism?

He seems convinced we'll resolve our differences before I croak. I'm not always sure of that, but it would be a good thing.

I'm teetering on writing his younger brother off. The natural phase of narcissism that accompanies adolescence, young adulthood, etc,., is something that, at some point, and dependent on type of expression, especially in personally vulnerable relationships, I loathe due to the suffering, sometimes to the point of hate. Difficult for some to understand from the vantage point of being outside looking in, but it makes perfect sense to me.

A huge part of me acknowledges we can never go back, never re-do whatever differences in parenting style of competence/expectations/incompetence we demonstrated, etc.. That part of me questions if I still need children in my life if there's ongoing disappointment and conflict. That part of me sometimes feels comfortable seeing my younger son in my mind's eye and saying, "So long motherfucker. You blew your chance to be a decent human being in my eyes. Good luck to you. Or whatever kind of luck you make for yourself. You'll need it."

All of them have great difficulty in communication learned from their mother, ironically an English major, among other majors.

I'd guess my vociferousness made up for the vacuum of otherwise dead or superficial communication that failed to ensue in the absence of my own messages.

Older son is coming over tonight for a lake trout dinner, with left-over jambalaya from the trip. Not sure how I'll fix the trout; likely either pan fried in butter/oil and crumbed and seasoned, or baked and seasoned. not up to grilling at the moment. we'll see.

Lots to unpack and put away from the trip yet. Need energy and a bit of time free of pain to make that happen, as well as getting the Yamaha with the fuel leak loaded onto a trailer and across the Borough to the fellow who missed that tidbit. Do-overs with machines are a lot easier than do-overs with life and people. no shit.

Dug out several small bags of cannabis, including a bag of Haze #13, all of which had been given to me almost 2 years ago by a fellow who'd gotten some (free) balsam poplar/tall river aspen here at our property back then, who'd also rewarded our generosity with some free duck and chicken eggs back then.

The duck and chicken eggs are, of course, long gone. but the cannabis samples he'd gifted have aged well, resulting from my being inundated with my own stuff.

So I'm headed back to bed with a green tea, a dark beer, and a joint of Haze #13. Reports to follow. Likely more brief in nature.

It's a bit humbling to acknowledge that the things one could once do, are no longer doable without incurring a fair bit of pain. But failure to acknowledge such things is far more fool hardy than doing them and arguing against the obvious. (*edit: I don't think that entirely made sense).

Anymore, fun of the sort I once lived for, hurts.... a lot.

I need a bigger bathtub, and a re-up on that Flexeril.

.

I'm trying to get painkillers from my doctor for my broken rib but I'll end up addicted or something pretty fast....the pain is 10/10. It pops out almost every day. Cannabis doesn't work for the pain anymore...and I've gotten pretty high. Maybe the doctor will give me a few good pills at least...oxycodone on a painful day would be nice. It goes away after a few minutes but it's >bad< when it happens. Glad you're doing good @moose eater Nothing on TV. Lost 10 pounds. Drinking Premier Protein and eating pretty healthy. Put new strings on my Stratocaster. Need an amplifier.

 

[mean mr.mustard]

I'm trying to get painkillers from my doctor for my broken rib

Wouldn't you expect a doctor to be more focused on the broken rib??

 

[D. B. Doober]

Wouldn't you expect a doctor to be more focused on the broken rib??

Yeah but it could be a while before I get the surgery. It's been broken and popping out for years...last thing was X-ray and they said it was broken but they didn't fix it.

 

[moose eater]

I'm trying to get painkillers from my doctor for my broken rib but I'll end up addicted or something pretty fast....the pain is 10/10. It pops out almost every day. Cannabis doesn't work for the pain anymore...and I've gotten pretty high. Maybe the doctor will give me a few good pills at least...oxycodone on a painful day would be nice. It goes away after a few minutes but it's >bad< when it happens. Glad you're doing good @moose eater Nothing on TV. Lost 10 pounds. Drinking Premier Protein and eating pretty healthy. Put new strings on my Stratocaster. Need an amplifier.

The issue of addiction with opiates is very much specific to the individual, metabolism, self-discipline in use, etc. I've had them laying around for years, and well over a decade for the muscle relaxers.

I quit using them fairly quickly after spine surgery (a triple laminectomy), as the side-effects, specifically constipation, is, literally a pain in the ass (and intestines, and diaphragm, and abdomen, and.....)

I've had mild-dosage tabs of various benzodiazepines lying about for the last 30-plus years, and until the many spiraling moments of familial and medical anxiety and angst since the cancer diagnosis, rarely touched them.

When I was blacklisted in the later 1990s, they occasionally came in handy.

Of the may drugs I rarely use to any degree of excess, the 2 to be most wary of are the benzo's and the alcohol; either one of which can lead to death as a result of cold turkey withdrawal if a person is truly under the spell. Both of which tend to be treated lightly by society, by the way, mostly due to cultural acceptance. What housewife didn't have some valium and some Dexedrine in her medicine cabinet and/or purse in the 1950s and 1960s?

I've been mostly fortunate in life to not have an addictive metabolism or personality, notwithstanding strawberry milkshakes, moose pasties, and a few other items (*And the fact that what was once a clear separation between the concepts of physical addiction and psychological, dopamine-based addiction, has morphed into the post-Stewart Smalley phase or era, where there is little or no separation between the 2, and all things are addictive... A product, in my opinion, of the for-profit and greedy non-profit treatment of addictions in general.

Even when I was doing 1 to 3 grams a day of uncut 92% pure coke about every day in the early 1980s for several years, when it became no longer fun, and filled with anxiety and paranoia, and the elevated philosophical discussions that had lasted into the wee hours of the sunrise turned into paranoia and anxiety more than anything, I simply quit. Not with any particular fear, like a newly reformed drunk quaking and quivering when someone opened a beer nearby, but rather a calm, 'take it or leave it, this is no longer smart or fun' kind of attitude and foundation.

And so it was.

These days, the game is all about appearances, liability, DEA threats to Docs' licenses, etc., and there's been cases near me, twice removed, where senior citizens with serious medical issues involving dying and collapsing veins, (an incredibly painful circumstance, by the way), were falsely accused by non-profit Docs for lying about their meds, when all it was, was a simple misunderstanding of context and terms. But the Doc had decided that the patient was lying when she wasn't. It was all over from there. She had to grope to find a Doc to meet her daily needs, which were Hell on Earth otherwise.

We now treat pain med recipients the way we treated paroled felons when I worked in mental health. Demand they show up for spontaneous pill counts and prove they're still taking al of the drugs, as though they're all prospective street dealers re-routing their meds for profit. Bullshit and demeaning way to treat seniors in need, let me tell you.

One of the primary motivations these days why many former prescription drug users of pain killers turn to street heroin. Another built-in flaw and outcome of short-sighted simpleton control freaks with limited IQ's and even less compassion.

The hurdles that America's pain patients now need to jump through, simply because Systems, in general, aren't set up to do situational, individualized perception, understanding, empathy, or conception of reality; people either are required to be all of this, or all of that, with little or no middle ground or gray area..

And the Docs are far more afraid of the DEA's enforcement arm than they are of their patients or compromising their oaths. So too many people suffer.

Meanwhile there's still a steadily shrinking pool of high-risk, hunted, pill-vendor Docs out there who make a lucrative living prescribing pain killers to people who claim to have stubbed their toe that morning. And both of those groups have fucked it up for everyone else.

Never mind the lying for-profit pharmaceutical companies who came out telling everyone how Oxycontin wasn't addictive.

There's enough dimwits and slimeballs in this life to last numerous generations, well into the Sun going super-nova. And the Docs among them are far more worried about liability than the Hippocratic oath.

As for my stash of various pharmaceuticals, an additional source of motive for self-discipline in the use involves not only the previously mentioned side-effects, but that when my body and mind can no longer peaceably coexist due to the symptoms of cancer and otherwise, they're my exit plan in great part. Some fentanyl, some oxycodone, some Cyclobenzaprine, some Lorazepam, a couple or 3 stiff tequila and pomegranate juices, and a few tokes of some really good hash, and at that stage of decomposition of life's joy, it'll be "off to nirvana." And in order to make that feasible, I'll need to watch what I consume, and only take these things for medicinal reasons when it seems like there's no other option. Otherwise, the amount remaining will be insufficient when that time arrives.

 

[D. B. Doober]

I'm sorry you have cancer @moose eater I wish you didn't have it. I'm always here to talk. I was hooked on benzodiazepenes...Klonopin...I thought I needed it for anxiety. Sounds like you have your shit together man. Got up early. Getting tired.

 

[moose eater]

I'm sorry you have cancer @moose eater I wish you didn't have it. I'm always here to talk. I was hooked on benzodiazepenes...Klonopin...I thought I needed it for anxiety. Sounds like you have your shit together man. Got up early. Getting tired.

Cancer is what it is. It's a genetically conveyed, situationally provoked message from the Cosmos, telling the owner that they've been here long enough.

Took about 2 years to accept that "It's nothing personal, even when it feels nothing but personal."

Thanks for your kind thoughts, Doober..

 

[tobedetermined]

The issue of addiction with opiates is very much specific to the individual, metabolism, self-discipline in use, etc. I've had them laying around for years, and well over a decade for the muscle relaxers.

I quit using them fairly quickly after spine surgery (a triple laminectomy), as the side-effects, specifically constipation, is, literally a pain in the ass (and intestines, and diaphragm, and abdomen, and.....)

@D. B. Doober . . . I just wanted to amplify this. I have had oxys here since the mid-90s. Kidney stones for 20 years. And then spinal stenosis. Opioids work by fucking you up. They dull your senses - and bodily functions - to make you ignore the pain. Luckily, I could use and walk away. Many people can not. Do not go down that rabbit hole unless you have to. I still have a reasonably fresh bottle here on hand but I avoid them and take a Motrin or Tylenol instead.

 

[moose eater]

@D. B. Doober . . . I just wanted to amplify this. I have had oxys here since the mid-90s. Kidney stones for 20 years. And then spinal stenosis. Opioids work by fucking you up. They dull your senses - and bodily functions - to make you ignore the pain. Luckily, I could use and walk away. Many people can not. Do not go down that rabbit hole unless you have to. I still have a reasonably fresh bottle here on hand but I avoid them and take a Motrin or Tylenol instead.

Omeprazole prevents/prohibits taking NSAIDs. Lots of drugs interfere with ingesting more common drugs safely.

My mother ODed (terminally) on acetaminophen. Not all OTC drugs are safe. A lack of a prescription doesn't necessarily equate to safety.

 

[moose eater]

And so it begins.. Lots of pup pics, as my older son is into his dogs, and thus the female that accompanied us was a primary focus of his camera this trip. She's a good pup, for sure.

(Premature posting; stay tuned for pics).

More pics to follow. I'm tired and haven't been doing really well the last few days or so.

 

[armedoldhippy]

More pics to follow. I'm tired and haven't been doing really well the last few days or so.

take your time, catch your breath. we'll be here...

 

[moose eater]

Thanks, hippie.

A few puffs of Kush #1 from a gift batch of varieties a couple years ago, part of a Pacino and Deniro movie, some of the last of the left-over Tex-Mex chili from the trip, some homemade corn bread to accompany the chili, and an organic salad with homemade Caesar dressing, and ....

A few more pics...

 

[flylowgethigh]

Coming home one evening a few years back . . .

View attachment 18828168

Here's what Niagara Falls looked like when it was turned off for the first time in 12,000 years

In 1969, the US Army Corps of Engineers dumped 27,000 tons of rock to dam the Niagara River and stop the American Falls to study the erosion.

www.yahoo.com

 

[mean mr.mustard]

View attachment 18828879

I'm glad you got your trout!

And it's certainly great to hear that you guys had some fun together.

Did the dogs get along while you were away?

I really have to say that the sled train is impressive! The entire trip looks like a lot of fun (and work)!!

 

[moose eater]

I'm glad you got your trout!

And it's certainly great to hear that you guys had some fun together.

Did the dogs get along while you were away?

I really have to say that the sled train is impressive! The entire trip looks like a lot of fun (and work)!!

My older son's 11- or 12-year-old male is a gentlemanly guy with a peculiar squint to his eyes that makes him look like he's hyper-scrutinous of everything going on near him. Funny sometimes, but as mellow as they come as long as there's no bullshit going on. And his male nature makes him more than acceptable to our alpha German Shepherd female.

The only real trouble they encounter is somewhat the same troubles I have in life currently. She wants to play hard, and he has a bum shoulder, so he can only fetch or wrestle so much before he's hiding in some selected place that he knows she can't get at.

We should all be chased by the ladies into hiding, no? Sounds like a real hell.

Returning home, on the front porch of the house, my son started to bring in the female that had accompanied us on the trip, and my wife had the 80-lb. Shepherd alpha female on a leash at the top of the stairs, and it was a true Kujo moment. Teeth going, wolf snarls, and a real authentic intention toward blood.

We decided a re-introduction would be better another time, maybe outside some place away from the house main door. At least a little bit more neutral.

Meanwhile, while we were gone, the nearing ancient Norwegian Elkhound (some place between 12 and 13 yrs. old by our estimation) who has been sleeping by herself except for when I'm home, and depressed like myself ever since her owner, my younger son, departed in a huff a year and several months ago, spent at least a limited amount of time in my wife's and my common bedroom for at least short stints of time with the other 3 dogs. Not typical of her at all.

When I returned, she was somewhat like my old Norwegian Elkhound had been 50 years ago; seemed angry and had maybe misunderstood my absence for a week. When I'd go into the room I usually sleep in, she'd leave there, and refuse to come back in for most of the night. Apparently resentful of what she had feared was another abandonment.

Elkhounds in their own right are fickle beings, and she's a bit sensitive to the losses of significant people in her life. She had a brief re-encounter with her former owner, my younger son, in the driveway some time before we left for the trip, and she was twitterpated, happy as could be, but I think that visit may have been cruel in itself, as it maybe got her hopes up.

They were tight. Traveled together, played together, faked each other out in games of various interactions, and more. The little James Dean-esque motherfucker has no idea the cruelty involved in his adolescent choices and the effects they rendered onto others.

We're back to mostly normal, dog wise now, though yesterday the typically mostly well-behaved female German Shepherd surprised me a fair bit. I heard a crunching raspy sound in the hallway upstairs near the bedroom, and said to my wife, "what the fuck is she chewing out there?" The dog KNEW I was referencing her behavior, and immediately came into the bedroom with her ears back and down, head low, and looking guilty as all hell. She seemed to know exactly what I had inquired about and came in all guilty and apologetic.

I checked the hallway at the top of the stairs, and she'd gnawed a 4"x5"+ diameter divot into the wall at the corner of the stairwell and the upstairs hallway. No clue how she could even get a tooth into a wall at that angle. Seriously. Multi-talented, and not in a good way. Porcupines have eaten into plywood floors, and I've seen that sort of stuff in those occurrences, but they have much smaller jaws and teeth, too. Her ability to get teeth into a vertical wall, away from any corners, was and is a mystery.

The night before she destroyed a pair of fingernail clippers, and the metal cylinder in the end that holds the apparatus together was completely missing, presumably swallowed by her. Hopefully it exits with her stools.

So, the GSD is up in arms about something and feeling peevish enough to be pulling shit she hasn't ever done in the past.

She's primarily my wife's dog, so there may be some jealously about my returning, or the absence of the elderly male pup she was so fond of. In either case, my wife's doing sheetrock repairs today.

The GSD took it both very humbly and personally when I showed her the handiwork she'd inflicted and cuffed her muzzle several times gruffly while informing her that this was totally unacceptable behavior..

So, I guess in retrospect and summary, we're -almost- back to normal.

Other than for strange behaviors by the GSD, depressed behaviors by the Elkhound, and me feeling like I'm drugged every morning I wake up, despite not having taken any muscle relaxers or pain killers in at least a couple nights.

Normalcy will return one way or the other, I'm sure. But I'm not feeling well. not at all. Like maybe cancer-related shit in my hips and spine have accelerated. Have to let it all settle out for a bit and try to see if it better defines itself without any more expensive scans.

I see the PA for my local oncologist on Monday.

 

[moose eater]

I'm glad you got your trout!

And it's certainly great to hear that you guys had some fun together.

Did the dogs get along while you were away?

I really have to say that the sled train is impressive! The entire trip looks like a lot of fun (and work)!!

That new Skandic is running 125 hp, and in low range will haul whatever you hook it up to, damned near.

With the barge sled with the large fish and gear box on it frozen to the ground (the custom-built massive sled immediately behind the machine on the trail that weighs close to 300-lbs empty) hauling about 20 gallons of fuel in jugs and a super-insulated Yeti cooler inside, and an auger on top, with snow shoes and camp chairs strapped to the D-rings on the sides, and close to a total weight of 450 to 525 lbs worth of total weight in the green custom Cordura-topped Otter tub hooked up behind the barge sled, it pulled the front end of the machine up in the air momentarily, until the rear of the 1.5" lugged, carbide picked 20" wide x 154" long track dug in, and thrust forward in low gear, and pulled the sleds 17 miles up and down hills and over lakes, muskegs, meadows and such with no sweat at all. It's a hauling machine for sure.

The V-800 my older son was on is headed for the market soon, as soon as I get the silt and any mud removed and get it the way I would want it to be if I were buying it.

Time to start offing equipment that I can't justify, and uncertain of my future in similar trips. So, who knows?

That, and fix the fuel leak on the left-side carburetor's fuel line inlet on the otherwise pristinely running Yamaha machine and make a decision about its future. Maybe keep it around just in case my older son wants or needs to go to the bush with me in the future, and maybe I'll even be up for another trip or 2? It's completely rebuilt with custom tunnel protectors, a custom carbide lugged track with taller than original lugs, new crank shaft and rebuilt motor with .030 over pistons and rings, rebuilt fuel pump, chain case and clutch, and new CDI and ignition coil, and for its vintage and size, it can/will haul like a bastard, and doesn't do too badly in powder.

I may need to run some cuttings not quite 50 miles into the bush on a trail if I can get good intel on the trail conditions and the rivers and creeks crossings without contacting the would-be recipient of the cuttings, though I know doing close to 100 miles round trip in a day at this point (as I have no intention of over-nighting out there), and in my current condition, is going to further fuck me up.

But my older boy has stated interest in maybe being a wingman on that mission, too, so the Yamaha or the V-800 Skidoo might come in handy again.. soon. Before the snow and ice become more marginal, or the creeks and rivers crossings become more hazardous. Though we're still running cold nights. It was -4 f on the front porch this morning.

 

[mean mr.mustard]

Sorry to hear about the wall, and much moreso about your health... I certainly understand wanting to wait until reacclimation has been achieved for deciding on scans.

I had no idea that they were that much...

 

[D. B. Doober]

That new Skandic is running 125 hp, and in low range will haul whatever you hook it up to, damned near.

With the barge sled with the large fish and gear box on it frozen to the ground (the custom-built massive sled immediately behind the machine on the trail that weighs close to 300-lbs empty) hauling about 20 gallons of fuel in jugs and a super-insulated Yeti cooler inside, and an auger on top, with snow shoes and camp chairs strapped to the D-rings on the sides, and close to a total weight of 450 to 525 lbs worth of total weight in the green custom Cordura-topped Otter tub hooked up behind the barge sled, it pulled the front end of the machine up in the air momentarily, until the rear of the 1.5" lugged, carbide picked 20" wide x 154" long track dug in, and thrust forward in low gear, and pulled the sleds 17 miles up and down hills and over lakes, muskegs, meadows and such with no sweat at all. It's a hauling machine for sure.

The V-800 my older son was on is headed for the market soon, as soon as I get the silt and any mud removed and get it the way I would want it to be if I were buying it.

Time to start offing equipment that I can't justify, and uncertain of my future in similar trips. So, who knows?

That, and fix the fuel leak on the left-side carburetor's fuel line inlet on the pristinely running Yamaha machine and make a decision about its future. Maybe keep it around just in case my older son wants or needs to go to the bush with me in the future, and maybe I'll even be up for another trip or 2? It's completely rebuilt with custom tunnel protectors, a custom carbide lugged track with taller than original lugs, new crank shaft and rebuilt motor with .030 over pistons and rings, rebuilt chain case and clutch, and for its vintage and size, it can/will haul like a bastard, and doesn't do too badly in powder.

I may need to run some cuttings not quite 50 miles into the bush on a trail if I can get good intel on the trail conditions and the rivers and creeks crossings without contacting the would-be recipient of the cuttings, though I know doing close to 100 miles round trip in a day at this point, and in my current condition, is going to further fuck me up.

But my older boy has stated interest in maybe being a wingman on that mission, too, so the Yamaha or the V-800 Skidoo might come in handy again.. soon. Before the snow and ice become more marginal, or the creeks and rivers crossings become more hazardous. Though we're still running cold nights. It was -4 f on the front porch this morning.

I don't know how you handle that cold man...-4°F is cold. 50 here...80 Friday

 

[moose eater]

I don't know how you handle that cold man...-4°F is cold. 50 here...80 Friday

I've been a firm believer in high quality wool for many years. Once viewed a larger collection of wool socks as a statement of wealth. Still do.

I've got a collection of various weights of wool sweaters, heavy wool military (Dutch & Italian Navy) military pants, wool and poly-pro long-johns, wool hats, wool mitten liners, etc., and LOTS of heavy-rated Thinsulate in expedition-grade gear. If you can maintain some sense of comfort, you can ignore the cold.

The -70 f. white bunny boots are an aging military bennie too. I have a sizable collection of bunny boots in my size. The white ones, not the lesser warm black ones.

Once you get cold, any sense of joy or recreation is gone out the window and the focus dramatically shifts.

You might notice in the pic of my filleting the trout, there's no gutting or beheading. Take the fillets off the sides and chuck the remains to the critters, gray jays, and eagles; traditional cleaning methods freeze the hands. Too much moisture in running a finger down the spleen and clearing blood from that vein down the spine. Same-same for gutting.

Dip-netting with large numbers of salmon to be processed, and ice fishing with bitter cold, both taught me to take the fillets off the -whole- fish, without gutting, heads on, down to the center of the belly meat, and leave the rest, retaining as much meat as possible.

But the wind on the morning it was -21 f. on the lakes I got out my -70 f. arctic parka with a canvas like nylon blend outer shell to cut the wind, and hefty amounts of quality goose down in it, with a soft nylon liner. It was overkill until I stripped off a layer of wool, retaining only long johns, a lighter wool sweater, and my green plaid wool shirt. Fucking roasty toasty even at 30+ mph across the lakes.

In one of the pics of my machine and myself you can see the arctic parka with coyote ruff laying over the top of the steering column on the machine. The parka's royal blue in color, with natural color on the coyote ruff.

Once you get to where you'll be working, keeping that much gear on is prohibitive; the last thing you want to do in the cold is to sweat and introduce a sudden loss of insulation and heat in those conditions, so layering is imperative. ALWAYS.

In the pic of my older son with the face mask, shades and goggles, (if not yet posted, I can soon), I can't wear that sort of thing on my face without fogging up my glasses, and I haven't had my full beard to protect from wind and ice since COVID began, as the P100 masks don't seal over stubble or beard, so I've been a clean-shaved guy for the last 3 years, whereas before that, for over 45 years, I consistently sported a full beard. (Except for when I was blacklisted in 1998 October, at which time I shaved my head and beard as a political statement).

Makes for pauses when crossing borders and they look at the passport and it looks like a different guy; heavier set in the passport pic and full facial hair, versus the live contrast at the Border with a serious mask, clean shaven, and 40-60 lbs. lighter. Extends the interactions there by a few minutes as a rule.

 

[tobedetermined]

without fogging up my glasses

Don't get me started . . .

I am glad that you had a good trip . . . although your health concerns are alarming. Rest and recuperate a bit before you haul out again. Gawd knows I am running pretty ragged after we hustled through our long overdue paint, carpets and general rehab in the lower 1/3 of our house. My wife LOVES setting deadlines and I scoff at them. Well, we met the Easter Sunday deadlines she set. I can't say that I was a willing participant all of the time and my hash supplies have plummeted accordingly. Now I have to finish reassembling my office/critical listening room/grow room. It does look a lot nicer now and I swear - I really do - that I will try to keep it all tidy. Well, at least tidier.

 

[moose eater]

Last ones for a while.

I'm headed for the hash pipe in a moment.. and some more Jason Isbell music...