On This Day In History...






I was born





BRB Is Write(other things may have happened, but this was a singular event)

What's With This Donut Fantasy?

Since the begining of the week I have been thinking about donuts. Actually I have been thinking of going to a store and getting some and eating them.

By way of explanation, since I've stopped having beer for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, my appetite for real food has increased. I am hungry most of the time, and dessert has become a necessity. But donuts?

So yesterday I gave in and shopped for donuts. We live in the marvelous city that is home to the great KK donut franchise. (I cannot bring myself to spell it like they do.) I hate them; they are greasy beyond compare, and don't have very many varieties: iced grease, powdered grease and grease grease about covers it. We have one Dunkin' D place in town, and it's hard to get in and out of. So I went to a grocery store where I had noticed some donuts sold singly stored in a dedicated donut case. They were $.60 each! And they didn't look so good after all. I bought some peaches and a melon and went home.

This city has four universities and colleges, a major medical school, and more banks than a Saudi prince. It also has only four donut shops. Where we lived in Ontario, Canada there were two high schools, two radio stations, a Provincial Police barracks and seven donut shops including two Tim Hortons. (best coffee in N.A.) Come to think of it, I believe that the last time I bought donuts was in Canada. They weren't any $.60 either. (Fool, that was 14 years ago).

Back to the donut story: I went home, had some lunch, puttered around the house for a while and took a nap. When I got up I said to self, Damn, I still want a donut. I went to the library; and on the way home stopped at another grocery store to check out the donut situation. They had day-old KK in bags (in day-old ones the grease has set). I wandered around the store and looked at coffee cakes and other baked stuff. I felt like an idiot carrying around an empty basket, so I bought some ice cream and went home.

Now we come to today. I said to self, today we go to Dunkin' D and get some donuts. And then we can take them to PDB's and share them with him and Jackson. Good plan. After I dropped Ms CPB at work, I drove straight to the donut shop. While waiting in line, I thought, What am I doing here? What's with this donut obsession? I looked at the menu board and donuts were $.89 each, or $4.79 per half dozen. Holy Crap! I got out of line and went back to the car.

But the plan was to get some donuts and share them with PDB and Jackson. Here I am in line again trying to decide what six donuts to get. Been a long time since I had to make a decision like that.

Half a dozen donuts and a large coffee, $7.02; sharing with PDB and Jackson, priceless. Jackson is too small for donuts, so I ate his, and he had his banana mashed up with milk.

And now I am home, stuffed with four donuts and half a large coffee. I think it will be another 14 years before I go out to buy donuts.

BRB Is Write(and cannot wait to see what dietary craving descends next)

Finding a New Voice

That last post has something different about it. Did you spot it? And no, I was not trying to do an Andy Rooney bit. His style, if one has heard it enough, is so easy to imitate that I did it unconsciously. It's like falling into a John Madden voice when talking about football.

Don't try to guess. It's the first post I've done completely sober. All the rest were written under the influence of various amounts of beer, from one to enough that I had to go lie down after I signed off. Lets say that I would have been legally impaired, if driving, about half the time. I don't remember which posts took the most beer to get through.

The other day, I reread most of them, and wondered how I did it. Here's one about my Dad that I rather like. I don't remember how many beers that one took.

Actually I like what I did with most of the topics I chose. Even sober, I generally like what I've written drunk or sober. It's a danger, I know, to fall in love with your writing. It's especially dangerous to really like the ones that had a large chemical influence. I might get the idea that the only way I can write is with a beer at hand and imbibed.

That's why I need a new voice. The old one has gone on the wagon.

BRB is Write (and sober for the first time in many a long year)