Shelby and I have completely different temperature states of being. A hundred degrees in the mancave shade, with the fan blowing from the side door to the open garage door, makes me happy.

Shelbs likes it in the low seventies. Walking into the house with my heat acclimated body is like walking into a refrigerator. But I ain't complaining, it's way prettier than my old dive in Tennessee.

There are individual A/C vents scattered around, in the bathrooms and into the bedrooms. I figured out how to warm my room up at night, by closing the vent. I keep it closed all the time, with my door shut.

Last night I froze my ass off! I looked up at the vent and saw that it was half hanging off the ceiling and blowing cold air directly down at me on my bed.

We need to put some filler in that hole, and screw it back on. In the meantime I could shove an old teeshirt into the thing...

...

I've been having my giant balls trimmed at the local Beauty College lately. The girls all give me this Oh My God look when I walk in, and the guy just grins.

Several of them are needed to do the job, and it takes a while. I'm not their favorite customer.

Today as I was walking by their shop I spotted a new trimmer, and I'm sure it's meant for me.

It's been an interesting four days. Shelby's been down in Tampa, arriving back home today around 1800. I've had a few rough days, mentally and physically, but I'm cool now.

My son is going through the loss of his mom and there ain't no worst pain than that. I wish I could hold and comfort him, but we live a long way away.

So, here's my statement.

I won't be attending the funeral son. I loved your mom, I fondly remember when she showed up at the recent birthday party at your place a couple of years ago.

She looked up at me and smiled, then tugged on the goatee I was growing, and said really?

Your mom was a major part of my life, and as I look back on it, undoubtedly the most.

I remember when your mom talked face to face with Steph on your H/S graduation day.

She passed over the damned torch that was me, and moved on.

The big Park Fire raging in California is over my home town of Paradise, which almost got wiped out at the end of 2018 by the Camp Fire.

It's the place where my family landed after a bunch of stops across the West, navigated with skill by my truck driving step dad.

The smoke is now spreading down into Teton Valley, ID, where my sisters family lives, and I lived for many years.

It's made me realize how many different places and cities I've lived in. It's got to be at least 40, maybe more. Two marriages, multiple relationships, jobs and just life in general can cause that over 78 years.

I left the hospital in Long Beach, CA as a preemie, after a week in an iron lung. Lived in a bunch of places before landing in Salt Lake City UT. Then on to Albuquerque NM, Reno NV, Floriston CA, Ivanhoe CA, Visalia CA and I'm sure I've missed a few along the way.

Then I landed in Paradise at the age of 15 or 16. I only remember one teachers name along that path, Mrs Ross, my fourth grade teacher in Truckee CA. She asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. I honestly didn't know.

I confirmed that response years later, while living in some nice bushes next to a Hayward, CA public library. I walked in and read a book about computers, and the rest is history.

I've had a hell of a life, and still am. My number one goal now is to stay alive long enough to let my son get over just losing his mom.

That's what I want to do when I grow up.

My son Riley's mom has died.

Colleen and I had a long history together and I really hope there is another side to this life, maybe I'll see her again.

We had some good times together, that I've never spoken to anyone about, never will. Rest in peace my old friend.

I had this idea to do a This is my story Post today, but I think I've already dropped a few packages along Blog Avenue with that address. I've blown the past big time, as I'm sure some of you have, and we're all human.

I think of my past now, as the last six or seven years. I moved from a beautiful log home at the Idaho base of the Grand Tetons, with Steph, my partner of twenty years.

We traveled to Tennessee in two trucks and a UHaul, with our cat Piper. She moved in with her daughter, and I got a small place on a dead-end street. Steph left me without an explanation and suddenly I'm a single old man in a small place, in a small town, in the deep South. Piper had a good life there for a couple of years, but passed.

I have to admit that I had a fun time. I traveled a lot, been to Roatan twice and Belize three times.

Life was OK, I was dealing with my Parkinsons but then I started falling and hitting my head.

As this year rolled towards Summer, things changed, my brain changed. Hell, I couldn't even tell you what month it was when I tried to kill myself.

I had accepted and analyzed my life, trying to figure out how I ended up there, and I didn't like what I saw. So I started making daily trips up the block for vodka, and began the process of saying goodbye.

My friends and family didn't accept it, and now I'm in Pensacola, FL.

So, that's the story about a seventy eight year old man, still alive after all these crazy years. I thank my grand-daughter and my son for whatever happens next!

It's the second day into an empty home. I thought about jumping in my truck and cruising West along the coast, hang out at Biloxi and Gulfport, see if I can get myself into trouble.

Then I remembered that I'm driving around with a Tennessee plate that expired a month ago. Now that I'm a Florida resident I need new plates and a new licence before I go road tripping.

So what to do? Nothing today, but there's some kind of street fair going down under the freeway onramp across the street tomorrow. I dodged the street sweepers this morning during my walks.

I really don't know what's going on anymore. I find myself doing things that surprise me, discovering things and ways of being happening that I never knew I had inside me.

I know my family and friends don't buy it, but my brain is damaged and I don't know what the fuck to do about it...

...

I'm sitting in the mancave on a quiet afternoon. The garage door is wide open and all movement catches my eye. I spotted someone walking from the adjacent building towards the trash bin with an armload of stuff, so I jumped up and met them at the dumpster, holding the lid up. It's a pain if you don't have help.

It was a nice lady who mentioned she just had her 60th birthday party, and I mentioned I just had my 78th. She was nice, pretty, and it makes me wonder if I'll ever have a woman in my life again.

I don't think I have it anymore. For one thing, I'm too fucking old. Who the hell would want to hang with a guy that's going to be eighty in two years?

So, what do I do? Survive? Yea I can do that. Thanks to my grand-daughter Shelby I have a wonderful home in Pensacola, FL. She's on a roadtrip south for a few days and I have the place to myself.

Yesterday was my 78 birthday. As I made it to the Cave with a protein drink in my hand, I was glad to be alive, but not much more.

Shelby bounced through the door singing Happy Birthday. God, I love her! She asked how I was, I said depressed and suicidal, and I have no idea why. I suspect it's brain damage.

She told me were having a birthday poker and tacos party, with a few friends. Then she gave me a couple of those green hemp pills to fight the depression, and I wondered out for a walk.

I wanted to go to the bar but they only take cash, and I had none. So I hit the B/A next to the place and got some. My new favorite bartender Brooke was there, along with a couple good old boys I'd met before. They asked how I was and I said depressed and suicidal, and it was my birthday.

I quickly said I was kidding, even though I wasn't, and I got a birthday drink from Kramer, along with a delicious chocolate truffle from Brooke.

Then I walked the short blocks home to see what Shelby's birthday plans were. The place was hopping! Tacos were being cooked, tables were being set up in front of the cave, and great country music was blasting out from the speakers Brian put in front of my truck.

Brian also brought over a couple of expensive cigars which we smoked in the cave. Then friends arrived and we partied.

This is Stormy (a world class body builder) and his son Shaun.

This was the party gang.

Here's a winning hand I had (five sixes).

Our neighbor's Dan and Crystal dropped by as the poker game was going on. These two are a very nice, cool people. They have a massage therapy studio and Dan is also a local lounge singer, and he performs on cruise boats. They gave me a birthday coupon for a massage (yay!) and I got them stoned from a jar of fresh bud.

Shelby and Amy mosied into the mancave this morning, with their freshly delivered Starbucks. They went out last night and did the town with their crew, and kicking their feet up on my table on a cool morning is just what they needed.

They got my neighbor Dan on video last night, playing piano and singing great, in a couple of clubs. I knew Dan was a local performer but after Shelby cast his stuff to my big TV, I'd never heard him, and he's great.

I got to know Amy better. She's the tall one on the left in a recent photo, next to the short one. She and Shelby met years ago here in Pensacola and have been friends since.

I met her once before when we were in Tampa but never really got to know her. Now I've done a road trip and a Cave chat with her, and she's great!

My initial age impression was late forties, fifty max. Turns out she will be sixty this year, and when I hugged her goodbye today, her body was very firm.

She has a prestigious job with people she likes down in Naples near the Florida southern tip. She would love to get a new job here in Pensacola and move back and so does her daughter.

I feel like I've made a new friend, and it's a pleasure. She and Shelby have left to attend this Mardi Gras thing with a big crew of women, and then she's flying home tonight, via Atlanta, GA.

I consider myself an intelligent man, and I've been having intelligent conversations with beautiful women lately.

I like it.

I've been on a great road trip today with Shelby, Chelsea, Amy, Amanda and Todd. The goal was to drive up into Alabama somewhere and play Top Golf and party.

We stopped at the southern Alabama Bucky's for fuel and snacks first. What a zoo! Todd and Chelsea jumped out and ran in for snacks as we tried to cross over the exit lane to the fuel pumps.

Our snack bearers returned and stopped traffic so we could get across. Then we drove to some huge mall in Folley, AL to get our names in for the final contestant drawing of the Taylor Swift concert, being held by a radio station set up in the mall.

We scanned our phones in and the drawing was in fifteen minutes so we hung around until we lost. Then we walked over to the sports bar and Todd bought us all Lemon Drop Shots. Then everyone was hungry so we ate some great southern food and some amazing wings.

I stuck around the sports bar and met some nice people while they went shopping at the mall. Then Todd drove Chelsea's amazing driving assisted electric car with a big screen computer in the middle, back from Folley, AL to the home here in Pensacola.

It's now 2200 on a Saturday night here and I've walked the dogs around the block while everyone's split for a party on the town.

Amy is visiting for the weekend and she's a tall hot surgical P/A. She was talking about women my age craving some hot sex but all the men around them have croaked. She mentioned giant clits on her patients caused by something, and a drug that is now being injected into clits to improve the orgasm.

It's tough riding along with kids in their thirties. They talk about sucking and fucking like it's just part of life, and it is. Because I'm becoming a sexy man again they just assume I get layed whenever I want to. The truth is, it's been more than seven years since I have.

I need to work on that...

...

Life in the mancave is fun, but the gnats and the flys are a pain. The gnats fly in front of my eyes so I slap my face to kill them. Sometimes there are no gnats, just big black spots on my eyes rolling across my vision, so I just slap myself for nothing.

The other problem is flys. Shelby bought me a fly zapper but I ain't zapped any yet. I'm constantly chasing them away from the rim of my cup.

This morning I sucked something through the head of the Pink Penis Straw, and I suspected what it was. Sure enough, I spit a dead fly out.

I guess we now know how pink plastic penis straws orgasm.

Here's a poker game from the other night with Shelby and Todd.

Well, if my old body decides to make a personal visit to the ground, and I need medical assistance, I'm in a good spot. Shelby's friend Amy just got here from Naples, and she's a surgical P/A. Now nurse Chelsea has just rolled in.

I'm surrounded by hot professional women. Well, not really, I'm hanging in the mancave and they're in the house.

I just went inside to grab a shot for the blog, but the vibe was mellow and private. Maybe later...

...

My grand-daughters grand-mother got my cherry. Her name was Jenny Arcuri and I met her at a church in Paradise, CA. We even got married when she got pregnant, the church insisted.

It was crazy times, Jenny disappeared, never saw her again, and I started college as a single dad. And now I'm living with our grand-daughter.

I see that moment, where a young guy inserted himself into a girl for the first time, and ultimately creating life, as the formation of the large family I now have, and know so little about.

I'll be seventy eight in five days. My body is lean, mean and tan. The ladies I got stoned with today thought I was Shelby's dad, how about that...

...

I was rocking out and dancing in the mancave today, with my back to the entrance. I wasn't expecting company, but suddenly I heard a couple female voices behind me.

As I turned around, there were two hot women standing there, enjoying my moves. I cranked the music down and said hi. Then they asked me if I would get them stoned.

Seriously. I knew one of them, and her cute friend is watching the place while she and her husband visit New Orleans. I told them they could drop by anytime and get stoned with me.

Then we got real stoned in the mancave, blasting hip hop out into the parking area. I went into the house and pulled Shelby away from her job computer. As we walked towards the cave she started lecturing me about bringing women off the street into the cave just to party.

Actually, from the laughter and chatter coming from the cave, I understand her concern, but we all ended up hanging out, so I guess everything's cool.

My days have been interesting lately. I've been walking around my Pensacola neighborhood a couple of times in the morning, while the sun is hot, and my mind is not lost.

The last two days, at the end of my second walk, I've stopped at the local bar. I've developed a history there, so I limit myself to one drink. The bartender Brooke is pretty and runs a good show. I gave her this link today, hi Brooke!

Then I mosey on home shirtless, working on my tan. Shelby thinks I have a crush on a lady that lives across the way, but I do not. I teased the lady today about her dinner date with her neighbor yesterday, since I see everything from my garage door. She said it was alright, but didn't sound too enthused...

I have no romantic interest whatsoever in the woman, but if she want's to enter the mancave anytime and shoot the shit, fine.

I actually have no romantic or sexual interest in anyone at the moment. Sometimes I feel like my sexuality may come alive again, and I embrace the thought, but I honestly don't know anymore...

...

I've been wondering what life would be like if my cash income was $500 to $1,000 every day, in today's society.

As the seventies ended, my standard billing rate was $65 an hour. I was kind of famous for that because I started that rate on my first big IBM Sys 38 contract with Interocean Steamship, and kept it there for years.

As my reputation grew, people knew they would get a state of the art system, and they knew how much it would cost them. I was very busy in the San Francisco Bay Area, as the eighties arrived.

One day, the owner of a local bus charter company contacted me. His new business model was to pick up Japanese families at SFO, drop the women and kids off at fancy hotels downtown, then take the men to the strip clubs.

After the men got good and drunk, with all the tities in their face they could handle, they were picked up and taken to the hotels.

The idea caught on big time and business began booming. The charter company already had a stock IBM Sys 38, running accounting, routing, and everything else. But they needed a custom module to plug in and handle this new line of business.

And they needed it right now. I told the owner it would take two weeks to create the mod, but I was booked solid.

He was well aware of my rate reputation and asked me what it would cost to put all of my current jobs on hold for two weeks, and do it.

I told him $250 an hour in cash, payable at the end of each day. He agreed, and every day as I was winding down, I told them how much time I was billing, and the cash was handed to me by the receptionist as I walked out the door. In an envelope...

I usually put in eight hours so that was two grand in my pocket every day.

On a side note, I didn't respect the whole thing. The idea that the men were the providers and since their women were notoriously lacking in the boob department, they deserved a night at the strip clubs.

I was married for ten years to a brilliant Japanese woman named Marci, graduated second in her class from UC Berkeley. She had small tits but they tasted good. So did the rest of her.

What is a partner? It's someone you share your life with.

When you're down, you bury your face in their lap and cry.

When you're up, and strong, you offer it back.

I can't remember my last good cry, much less in the lap of a partner I loved.

When your brain gets hurt you start grasping at every memory you have, and try to store it, somewhere you can get it back.

I'm finding this happening to me. Fortunately most of my past memories are intact, while recent ones apparently have nowhere to store themselves, and they're getting lost.

My sweet grand-daughter Shelby has rescued me from suicide by vodka and given me this moment. We are now partners in forming a life here in Pensacola, FL.

God, I've been sharing so much honesty and emotions with her, and I love her so much, but she is not my partner.

Well, I'm on the second day of running the duplex by myself. I turned the A/C off yesterday and actually slept pretty well in my bedroom with just a blanket over me.

I got a text from Shelby in Dallas this morning, asking how things were. I wrote back "This is the Pensacola PD, do you know the deceased?"

She laughed, but shortly after I got a text indicating the arrival of todays babysitter was eminent. Thank god.

Soon, a big ol boy came through the side door of the mancave, shook my hand and plopped down into the guest leather chair.

He's a good guy, plays the stock market from his phone, to the tune of $500 to $5,000 profit a day. Hell, I was glad I didn't spend that $20 weekend leftover cash in my pocket, yesterday.

Now he's off to his bank, may be back. I'm sure he's given Shelby an update on my condition by now. Hopefully it was good.

btw: I havn't processed any Blue Angel footage, but here's the mancave:

Shelby is flying around the country for a few days, working. Zinny is at Chelsea's and I have the place to myself. It's a good sized place, but I can handle it.

The first thing I did was turn the A/C down in the house, too cold for me, besides, I hang out in the hot mancave anyway.

Shelby ordered a bunch of great food for me last night, so maybe I'll start a new hobby called eating. It all showed up at the front door an hour after she left, in standard grocery bags, which means somebody shopped them and this guy delivered them.

Or maybe he did the shopping and delivery? I still don't know how things work down here. And no tip expected...

...

I'd like to take a cognitive test one day, like the one being pushed on Joe and Don. Trump said he's taken two, and aced both. Joe has no time for that, he's at the top of his game.

I keep telling people that my brain was damaged with that recent stroke, and the other medical issues that went down around it. Plus a few serious falls.

Nobody buys it but me, so I write about it here, and see if anything sticks.

I've been becoming an asshole for the day, once every three days. I apparently become a bad dude and usually can't remember it the next day.

If I'm drinking that day, I can blame it on that, otherwise it may be neurological.

Over the years, becoming an asshole every three days has never really been an issue with me, otherwise I would have run out of friends and lovers real quick.

So I really don't know what to do...

...

Shelby was yelling to Todd over cards last night that Popa has never had good whisky before, he just sucks on vodka.

The facts are, that I was an established Beer, Wine and Whisky connoisseur in the Bay Area, back in the seventies and eighties, before she was born. I knew how to drink, what to drink, and what was great.

The last six years in Tennessee included a lot of good whisky, and vodka as well.

So I raised my voice and assumed that pompous position we old people like to take, and shut her down.

Todd smiled, not many people tell Shelby off, because she's so good with the comeback, the effort ain't worth it.

What a strange Sunday it is, nine days before I turn 78. Surprisingly, my head is on pretty straight, and my body feels good.

Sitting in the Cave with the new cooling fan. I played poker here at the round table last night, with Shelby and Todd. Sipped a little expensive whisky, got stoned, and had a good time. Don't remember who ended up with the most chips.

Hey, that's life down here in The Cola. I came back into the house this morning, wet from a walk in a thunderstorm, and the lady who services the place jumped all over my bald head and my brown trim torso, with a towel.

The Nurse and Todd were on the couch and they were all heading to a little cafe where you can walk your dogs and grab a bite to eat. I was invited (thanks guys), but I just felt like hanging out here in the Cave today.

Ya see, before the collapse, I spent the last six years without a partner, in a rundown house on a deadend street, in southern Tennessee. I survived there until I didn't, but I got used to it.

The amount of Social Activity that occurs here, and is within my touch, is stunning. I guess I'm just not ready to mosey on down to a cool local place on a Sunday afternoon with nice people, and a couple dogs. Thanks anyway guys.

So I'm just hanging in the Cave, trying to figure life out, one more time.

I could be hanging out here watching Fleet Week,

With Shelby and The Nurse,

btw: This shot was taken the instant I texted Shelby on Saturday, and asked for it!

So I'm watching their dogs instead...

And I cleaned the kitchen...

...

Blue Angel Friday lived up to it's reputation yesterday. We parked the Benz inside the trailer park, right up at the street, across from The Bar, The Beach and The Pier. Shelby knows the owner and he owed her a favor.

We hung out at the Bar for a bit, before the show. After the big tab the last time, I was drinking from an insulated cup with supplies back at the car. I had a pot pen in my pocket with a bud in a baggie, and I was ready for the day.

The boats started stacking up and beautiful women in hot bikinis made their way up the steps to the bar from the two foot deep water. Everyone was gearing up for the best air show in the country.

Shelby said yesterday was the locals crowd, today will have a full harbor full of boats and a huge mass of people. That's why I'm staying home writing this post.

One big old black guy walked up to me, shook my hand and said he wanted to look like me when he got old. Considering his biceps way exceeded the diameter of my head, I was flattered.

I got a Vote for Dolly sticker on my Tilley hat from a local vendor and then Shelby and I headed over to The Pier to watch the show.

Along the way to the Pier we came across a big empty red tent out on the beach that somebody had set up to watch the show. I noticed a young woman with three young adorable little kids setting up in the sand next to it, so I asked the crowds around if the tent was theirs, they said no, so I invited the lady and the kids inside. I told them someone may come along and claim it, she said she could handle it, and it turned out nobody did.

Here's a Beach shot from the Pier and you can see the red tent middle left.

A bit closer...

I even walked down later and watched a bit of the show with them from inside the tent.

Meanwhile, the Beach Queen held down the pier.

I've got some video of the fly over, which centered right in front of us. I suspect it was a practice run for today, and I'll edit what I got yesterday, shortly.

Shelby was out on the town last night so I made myself a great dinner. The best ingredients I found that didn't take any prep or cooking, were these amazing carmel filled chocolate things.

Maybe it was the Pen that pushed me in this direction, or maybe the Straw, but this was the best meal I've had in a while!

I watched a video clip recently where this old seafood critic was raving about fried lobster tail. It was his favorite seafood dish and I didn't catch the place or the state.

It was a huge plate of deep fried chunks and it looked amazing. I was chatting with a bunch of local fishermen on my final day at the bar, and asked if they knew where I could get it. Somebody mentioned a Lobster Shack a couple States away, nah, I don't think so.

Then, I asked Shelby as she sat at her work screen with her windows into the world, and she said The Grand Marlin here in town, they have fried lobster fingers and other things.

We now have an 11:30 reservation at the place for brunch, before starting the big day on Friday.

My grand-daughters knowledge of the area, and her ability to pull things together for people, is impressive.

I was in computers for many years before she was born, and she should be coming to me for advice. Now her ability to connect with and navigate our electronic world, at the highest level, astounds me.

I learned a long time ago to let the creative talented people around me blossom and flower. Then we all enjoy the results from every thing, and then share it all with the world.

Well, the big weekend is almost here, and the Blue's are putting on two shows. Friday is less crowded, catering to locals and folks that don't have to work, while Saturday is a crazy partying crowd on the beach that goes well into the night.

We're doing the Friday show, because we're cool locals. Shelby has connections with the pilots so we might get a meet and greet.

It's still gona be party time. My life has transformed from the quiet of Tennessee, into a new world, a different reality, something I just call Florida life.

The people down here and around me love Pensacola. Shelby thinks it's the best place to live on the planet.

They like to be cool, look hot, and party every chance they get!

As I went to bed last night, I was thinking about shooting video at the Blue's show next Friday. I could use my phone, like everyone else, or I could bring my big expensive Sony digital, mounted with a zoom lens.

Suddenly, I remembered my little DGI 4K video camera. Since my collapse I have completely forgotten I owned it, and I had no idea where it was. It probably ended up in somebodys pocket.

I lost it for six months a couple of years ago. I eventually found it in my truck up against a seat rail.

Then I remembered the stuff holder between my truck seats. That's usually where I carried it, so instead of climbing into bed I went downstairs and out to my truck. I filtered through the stuff holder in the dark, and it's magic little shape suddenly slid into my hand. I'll be damned.

This little cam fits in a shirt or shorts pocket easier than a phone. It takes hi-res photos and great video for YouTube.

Together again...

...

Yea I shut this blog down for a while. I was taking shit from multiple directions about how I was living my life, and how I was writing about it. But now I'm bottoming out...

The days have consisted of walking around the neighborhood in just my shorts, working on my tan and thinking about life. I have a couple drinks at the bar, skip dinner, just like I skipped the other meals, and go to bed. Such is the life of a sad old drunk.

My past and my decisions have been sweating out of my shrinking damaged brain as I walk, and I'm embarrassed by my existence.

I spent my last ten dollars in cash, with two drinks at the bar, and said goodbye. I gave Shelby my debit card and said take it over, she already has full access to it.

During my walk this morning I found two dimes on the sidewalk and picked them up. It reminded me of a quarter laying on another street that I had left for the homeless, but now I'm going back.

There ain't much you can buy for $.45 these days. Which means Shelby has my card and complete control of my bank account, and I have some change in my pocket.

This is how you handle sad old drunks, because they ain't capable of doing it themselves. I did manage to power my phone and computer down, when I killed the blog. My phone is still off, hanging out in no lecture land.

The big home base Blue Angels show is this weekend, Friday and Saturday. I'm hoping to get some good shots for the blog.

I've been looking at my Blog today, and realized that I had several months of Posts that I didn't archive, because my brain was scrambled so bad.

I was trying to focus down into my life, to the time period when the world collapsed around me, and I was using vodka to end it all. But, because I hadn't archived five months of Posts (Jan, Feb, Mar, Apr and May), they were all buried deep in my blog.

Archives are great, and they sit right below the Current Posts list, to the right if you're using a computer, or at the bottom on a phone. If you click on any month, you get all the Posts I wrote that month/year.

The current Archive list showed Dec, 2023 as the last month of Archives, which left the last five months only reachable with some effort. So I just archived Jan, 2024 through May, 2024, and they're only a click away now.

I can click on the Apr, 2024 Archive and study the Posts surrounding my collapse in the middle of the month. I'll archive June shortly and it will flow into my Current Posts list.

I've documented the last six years of my life, in a format I created and control. I talk about everything here, with only a few limits. With archives I can dive right down into a full month of Posts for that year, and remember what I did!

I could use FaceBook, I suppose...

...

Happy 248th 4th of July! It's 1000 and I'm sitting in the Cave with the garage door halfway down. I see peoples legs walking by as they head to the trash bin. Sometimes I can't tell the difference between male and female legs, but they're all tan.

Shelby's covering for some co-workers at her computer station today, so I have two options. Go jump in my truck and explore the area inside a busy packed Pensacola and beyond, or keep the mancave nice and hot, my truck cool, then go hang with the girls later for fireworks and whatever the night brings.

Hmmm, let me see where that pipe's at...

Just took Zinny for a walk, and watching turds being happily pushed out of dogs assholes, is my new pastime. How come us humans can't have two good shits, within five minutes?

My buddy Rob texted me last night from Tampa, then we chatted on the phone. He was hanging with someone who knew my IBM Sys 3/15 work back in the 70s and 80s, and they're both fans of my blog. I'm humbled.

Shelby mentioned a friend got my blog name last night just so he can follow the girls. Hang on, I'll get as many pics as I can, the nurse is kinda camera shy...

I don't have a shy blog, and we don't have a shy dog.

It's a nice quiet night here in the mancave, hot of course, doors open and we need to get a fan out here. Shelby's out with the GF, Zinneys in the air conditioned house, and I'm in Pensacola, FL on Fourth of July eve.

It's totally ironic that I'll be spending my Fourth tomorrow with the two hottest, single, fun loving ladies in town. I'm just sayin, you put Shelby, who needs no introduction, together with an early thirties hot nurse who weighs 96 pounds with an amazing body, on my arm, I'm in trouble...

And I just got scrubbed. I'm tanned, trim, and almost 78. I'm going to put each one of these beauties on an arm tomorrow, and celebrate the Fourth of July in Blue Angels land!

Some days I just want to climb onto my mother's lap, have her rub my head and tell me everything is going to be alright. Unfortunately, being the oldest member of your family doesn't allow that.

Shelby and I are working on transferring my Medicare from Tennessee to here, get a new primary care, and maybe a gym membership way down the road. I finally decided to get my head and face a long past due buzz cut, and I just saw Shelby's hair person.

Her name is Jordan, manages her own studio, and has worked for Shelby in productions around town for years. It was the best haircut and beard trim I've ever head, everything removed except my goatee, which was styled nicely, and ears and eyebrows were trimmed.

I even had oil applied to my head and rubbed down with a hot damp towel, named Mom.

I just got the Summer Plans update for July and August from Shelby, in the cool comfort of the Mancave.

I've taken up the inside chair around the table now, the one my visitors used to sit in. It gives me a great view on the world, guests to my left, neighborhood straight out the garage door, and the world on my big screen TV to the right.

It's gong to be a busy Summer, and we firmed up one important thing, that I watch her dog Zini and the house, when she hits the road, for work. I said hell yea, I can handle this house, just shut down your mobile office and whatever fancy monitor stuff going on, because I may have some girls over.

We also decided to do the quiet meet and greet with the Blue Angels on Friday, followed by the Air Show and getting some great shots with my Sony cam. The Saturday event, on the other hand, is an all day Pensacola party, into the night. I think my grown up grand-daughter is doing both. Over the hill grandpa? Nope.

Other than that, at the far end of the Spectrum, I may just fly to the Bay Area (Walnet Creek) on a work gig with Shelby. Meet up with my daughter Becky, my many grandkids and their kids, and somehow find redemption to a very flawed life.

Maybe Beryl in Hawaii and Skoge in Sacramento would drop by?

I've always thought that noble deeds had great value in the universe.

Back in the South I fed the ducks in the Park every morning. I helped everyone in need, that I encountered along the way.

It feels really good to be a good citizen, and I've always been a trash fanatic, one who cleans up what others threw behind, when I can.

I have a new endeavor now, in fact this is my second walk. I grab a plastic bag and pick up trash that cars have thrown from the freeway onto the green parkway below.

People that walk the path through the middle, leave trash. The three homeless guys that live under the overpass leave their share.

I can also do it in my bathing suit and work on my tan. The walking, bending over and stretching, and sweating, help me get a bit fit. Or, I could go to the gym, I suppose.

I take multiple meds three times a day. I have this cool dispenser that Shelby loads up for me (as did Jess when I was in Washington). If I miss my evening batch, I know it the next morning because my right arm really hurts.

That's the arm I messed up falling down a Nashville BNB stairwell a while back, and the new meds control the pain. The fact that my arm is killing me this morning means I set my pills down somewhere last night and missed taking them, or the pain pill in that mix doesn't work anymore.

I don't mean to sound like a whiney old man, but hey, it is my blog after all.

So something different happened this morning. I get dizzy now on occasion, but it hasn't knocked me down or affected my driving. This morning I was in bed, laying flat on my back, when I pushed myself up just a bit to find my phone. The sun was beaming through the window so I knew it was around 0700.

Suddenly my brain, my vision, my awareness, whatever you want to call it, started spinning around hard. I had to fight to retain consciousness and really thought I was going to lose it.

I almost passed out big time, I'm not talking going back to sleep, I'm talking going out, and not sure when I was coming to. It finally stopped and I was able to head downstairs with my arm hanging worthless and in pain while my left hand held my phone.

Then I gave the dogs their morning walk and ended up swatting at a wasp with my right hand. God my arm hurts now, excuse me while I sit here and whine...

...

Shelby whipped up a great crockpot with the chicken I bought at Publix, gave me and the animals access to it, then drove off to a political fund raiser somewhere around town.

The Garage Mancave was popular tonight as neighbors had to park on our side due to construction. Turns out Luna the cat is theirs, so the owners dropped by and it turns out we met them at the beach two weeks ago.

Luna was lounging inside with the two small dogs tied up to a long rope, and they were all eating crockpot chicken scraps.

I think I have become a benefit to our little neighborhood in Blue Angels land, not much gets by me back here. A couple of good old boys just wondered into our complex with a dead battery vehicle on the street.

I whipped out the portable charger I keep in my truck and had them going on the first crank. They were very grateful.

I was being followed into a store this morning by a guy who walks like I walk on occasion, escorted on the arm of his woman. I pulled that door wide open, gave them a greeting and a big smile, and let them walk on in.