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By: JP Harr

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Thursday, 19-Jun-2008 15:22 Email | Share | | Bookmark
What's In Your Closet?


Wednesday, 18-Jun-2008 16:08 Email | Share | | Bookmark

"somebody come and play with me!"

Wednesday, 18-Jun-2008 15:25 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Still Lifes

park bench and pizza box
bench and river and clover

Life, still.

Sunday, 15-Jun-2008 14:29 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Ford Car Show / Yesterday

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Yesterday morning I washed and vacuumed the Mercury then took it to a car show featuring Mustangs, but including all Ford and Ford-powered vehicles (such as DeTomoso Panteras and Cobras). It was an absolutely gorgeous day, and hanging out in the sun with like-minded enthusiasts was okay by me. Across the street, the local Chrysler-Jeep dealer was hosting a Jeep show, up the road the Dodge dealer was hosting Dodges and Plymouths and Chryslers, and down the road the other way, the Chevy dealer was hosting an all-GM show. Out on the street it was almost like watching a parade, except the speed was much higher, the glorious smell of spent racing fuel wafted on the breeze, and the occasional burnout kept us alert.
When I got home, I worked on the boat, installing a new fuel tank and associated wires, hoses and clamps, brackets, spacers.... I got a new set of bearing buddies pounded into place on the trailer axle, and then it was time for dinner (spaghetti and salad and bread), then a movie (Inside Man).
Yeah, it was a pretty damn good day.

Tuesday, 10-Jun-2008 03:52 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Memory Tuesday

My grandfather and me back in 1987, on a guys' weekend canoe trip.

I was fresh out of the Air Force and hadn't been hired anywhere yet, so I was burning up my cash reserves and getting caught up on family and friends. Having missed years of huntin' camp and other manly endeavors, one of the first things the men in the family arranged was a late spring trip down the Pine River.
My grandfather was a frugal man, and thought I was a dummy to waste my money on such a stupid hat. But I didn't have a hat, and needed one, and this was the most stupid one they had in the store in this town. The stupider the better, that's what I think. No point in trying to make an actual point with a cap. And it was only five bucks, which was about how much he paid for a case of the nasty beer he drank.

We had a great bunch of years together, my grandfather and me. I hope that he left this world knowing what a difference he made to me and to others. I held his hand as he withered away in hospice care, having decided to no longer eat or drink. He knew what he was doing, but when his mind started to play tricks on him, it was hard to watch. But I went to see him almost every day, for the few too-short weeks between his last time at home and the day he died.
I recall visiting him alone, just me, without the kids. He was delirious and confused and hyper and exhausted. I held and squeezed his hands and spoke too-loudly, describing in detail the times we had in the woods, especially in the campground that was all pine trees, the place that whispered, the place where the smoke only went straight up until it reached the tops of the trees, the spiky tops always swaying back and forth as one.
He was very calm, his mouth dry and his eyes sunken, and he said, "That sounds nice." They were the last lucid words he spoke to me.

Catch some bluegill for me, gramps.

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