Returning from a Wi-fi free camping vacation I realized I left the 15 Jots faithful in a lurch again. That's a shame because I had some very deep thoughts on that air mattress in the tent in my Uncle's backyard in Florida, but I have forgotten all of them. I received a traumatic brain injury from staring at the highway for 16 hours on the solo drive back that I took straight like a Jaeger shot with Cuervo chaser. All I have left are random thoughts with the intellectual calories of a Fox news commentary. But now that you have all outed yourselves, I know who my readers are and you are a forgiving bunch.
First up - In the interest of building the kingdom of heaven on Earth, let's boycott chicken. I have decided that poultry farming is inhumane and unreasonable. All people are created equal and none of us should have to ever be near a chicken or a rooster. I came to this conclusion when some red-crowned bastard rooster from Germany started cock-a-doodle-annoying-the-ever-loving-crap-out-of-me-dooing in small-town Florida every morning at 1:30 AM. (That's how I knew he was German. He was on time in Stuttgart.) The way I see it is simple math. No eggs + no chicken fajitas = no roosters and peaceful sleep in small-town America, which will most likely lead to peace on Earth. If we start the boycott now we should see results by Wednesday.
Next up - I should go into another writing block built of self-loathing and grammatical inertia after my Florida trip because another week with my Uncle Dan confirms that he is one of the funniest people I know. I have said it before, but it is so true that it needs repeating- I come from a long line of superb story-tellers and I am not one of them. In a super story powers ultimate tale match I am in only the ninth tier behind my cousin Ellen, my aunt Libby, all of my grandmothers, Uncle Dan, my Dad's dog Scruffy, and my mother's architecture library. I do squeak in ahead of my sister's security blanket and my cousin's travel photos from Piankatank Shores, but barely.
I looked up one of my uncle's favorite expressions and it turns out, as expected, to come from a Western series - "Rawhide" to be exact. My uncle who survived multiple near-fatal crashes and has more scars than I have years of life, who hand-raked two-and-a-half acres in preparation of our visit and wore a different Hawaiian shirt every day we were there... as if he were not colorful enough, he peppers his speech with expressions from old Westerns. He is a jack of many trades but blogging is not one of them so I can continue to write if for no other reason than to introduce him to you. The word, by the way is "jasper" pronounced /jay-spur/ and meaning kid or doofus.
For the dessert course: I am taking an editorial vote. I found some old posts in the Jots archives that did not make the cut. I could pull a Salinger and wait until I'm dead to post them but I believe that the best part of dead is that you get to forget all your passwords. Not that remembering "JasonStathamLoveNugget1" takes all that many living brain cells. Would you like to see that which did not make the cut in the past 9 months or keep the vault sealed? Comments welcome. For you Facebook readers, now taking votes on the comments page at http://acmiles.blogspot.com.
In conclusion - (as if there was any logical progression here and I did not just think of this last little vignette... but in sermons I used to say "in conclusion' to let people know that freedom was nigh) I passed one of my readers on the street today. He looks awesome. Spring in his step, good coloring, lost some weight... I resisted asking if I could use his health and well-being as crass blog marketing. I'm thinking something along the lines of "Auspicious is as Jots reads" or "Auspicious Jots is for Optimists - the next post has got to be better" or something classsy, witty and subtle like the blog itself. Something like "Reading Auspicious Jots will make you Hot, Baby".