My Mama's Mustache & Other Inherited Stuff  

Imagine my shock with only 14 minutes left of an hour long show, to look up and read, "Waiting For Host To Call In."

I had read it before, as I rambled on, in truth, beginning to bore myself and hoping no one else was feeling the same. but at the moment it dawned on me what I was reading, it also dawned on me that I had bored myself for nothing, sitting here alone, talking to nothing but thin air.

My first reaction was to look about to see if anyone had witnessed my gaffe. Then I scrambled about redialing in hopes that my audience had stuck around anyway. Why they would, I don't know, warped loyalty I presume.

As it turns out,  my sister stuck around long enough to know that when I went off the air, last weeks show automatically replaced me. I thank the powers that be who put that little rescue in place.

At this moment, 6:30 PM, I have downloaded the newest flash and inspected the new blog talk radio interface. I have also been allowed to upload the song my sisters and I recorded on Saturday afternoon to start the show. (my sisters complied willingly, I promise)

I took a nap, woke up laughing about the mornings turn of events. I am already looking forward to a great episode on the 19th.

My only regret for today is that my sister whom I am presently staying with while I build my empire, invited the lawnmower man to work his magic on the riding mower in anticipation of spring. I regret because I am here still, and not in NC with my children and grandchildren; I regret because I didn't wish to be here to witness this pathetic means of invoking the beginning of spring. I have long felt the groundhog was ill used for this very purpose, but the lawnmower? It is January 5th. Can anyone be duped to believe in spring by the roaring to life of a lawnmower on the 5th of January in upstate New York?

Truth? I cannot wait for the lawnmower man to return that precious machine.

And so I have had an odd day here. A marvelous weekend with several of my siblings. A radio episode gone badly awry. The roaring motor of a lawnmower. A nap which put it all back in perspective.

I am extremely fortunate.

Welcome change, whatever the outcome, for myself the often circuitous route brings me to a better version of me.

At minimum, I get a few laughs out of it.