SLIMY THINGS IN THE DEEP GRASS

The great thing about having days off is that I can come down from the giddy heights of dealing with luftmenschen in Marin County, where heads are in the clouds, plain common sense takes a back seat to "the feels, man", and carrion eaters wheel and circle over the estuarine marshes looking for dead vegetarians who sought to commune with nature and snuffed it when they got stuck in the mud. At least I think that's why the area around the gas station smells of corpses. Maybe they're making a tableau vivant there using deceased pets.

Half of my coworkers are fully functional.

The others are unique.

I'll let you figure out which half I am in.



As with many people, because of older relatives World War Two was always in the background when I was a child, a strong element in the group mind. Which to many folks growing up now is unimaginable.

"What was WWII, and who was in it?"

Well, young feller, that was the English and the Scots fighting about the future of Great Britain. The enemy flag had that hooked cross thing on it because that was a simplified version of clan tartans. The Japanese won, and that's why they are now rich and powerful, and technically advanced, and the United States has become a shithole country.

"Gee thanks, uncle Stinky! It all makes sense!"

Yeah, doesn't it just.

He is an innocent fellow in his early twenties, and has many brilliant ideas.

One of which I've illustrated here. It will change everything as we know it, and also lead to huge improvements in public health and social morals. He doesn't realize it, but anyone familiar with the court room scene in the movie "Bananas" or slovenly hipsters lounging amid the the reek of patchouli on a carpet, surrounding a hookah, or "bong" as it's also known, would have come up with the concept.

Far be it from me to puncture his balloon.

I see my role as being gently nurturing and encouraging.

Water benefits living things. Air needs to be improved. The mind functions better if breathing is advanced. It's all so simple. This is progress.

Between the superannuated old farts with buckets of experience and strong opinions, and the fresh-faced young people thinking thoughts for the first time, I do not lack for stimulation while I'm there.

But it's good to recharge.




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