Tag Archives: Mysteries

Strange World

The world is a strange place, dudes.

It’s to my greatest regret and my greatest gratitude, that we don’t have a fence in the backyard. Because of that, Buzz, the garbage disposal that walks like a dog, must, in fact, be walked. Often. At great length.

If I want Buzz to be walked in a way that ensures he won’t be leaving little brown, smelly presents all over the house at inopportune times, I have to do it myself.

And so I get a chance for a little alone time with Buzz. Of course, it’s not actual alone time, seeing as how Buzz is at the end of the leash, but he doesn’t actually require that I talk to him, listen to him or respond back to him. Which, as you might imagine, is a bit of a relief on occasion.

So while the walks do take out a significant portion of the day, I always find that I’m feeling much better about life at the end of each walk.

These walks also let me see some very interesting things along the way. Not even going to go into the folks who seem to believe that if they are on the other side of a house window that they’re invisible from the street. For the record? They’re not. They’re so very not invisible.


No, what got me thinking about the world’s strangeness was the pumpkin patch of old, discarded (I think) pumpkins I found the other day along a utility siding. It’s a large field of open space that allows a set of power lines to roll across the land without crossing any homes. It’s bound on each side by a small line of trees and bushes.

As I was walking into the open area, I noticed several small pumpkins in the bushes. This being the time after Halloween, I thought nothing of it.

Then, when I went back later, there were more pumpkins. Two of them were rather large and rather white, something I’d never seen before. I’m assuming they’re a thing, but not something I’ve known about.

Strange, I thought, then walked on.

Finally, on a third trip through, I found even more pumpkins on the ground. I counted up a total of nine pumpkins, some large and some small.

Now, I realize it’s probably because the people nearby didn’t want to throw their pumpkins out and wanted, instead, to offer them to the local wildlife, but that’s the logical reasoning and doesn’t really cover why they appeared over a number of different days.

And, besides, we have no way of knowing if it’s true. There could be any number of reasons, from aliens setting bad traps for people who, only a few weeks ago, seemed to have pumpkins everywhere, to the spontaneous appearance of pumpkins in the nexus of all Halloweens throughout the multiverse.

It’s the difference between not understanding something and something being a mystery. Mysteries are lovely and allow for such speculation and, best of all, they are there until we decide to solve them.

Mysteries allow for the strange and the unusual. Mysteries are the stuff of adventure.

The world is a strange place.

Let’s keep it that way*.


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Happy Thanksgiving

by Richard

Thanksgiving is a time for all of us to set aside a little bit of time and go over our lives. Not necessarily with a fine-toothed comb, but just in general.

I like to find things that might be a bit out of the ordinary, things that remind me that the world is a pretty odd place, full of wonders and mysteries and just how much I love it like that. Hey, I’m thankful for the world being like that.

I’m thankful for language, so I can tell that jerk in the car next to me he got his driver’s license from a box of cereal.

I’m thankful for the accelerator so I can get away from that dude in the car next to me.

I’m thankful for video game systems, which give my young dudes something to do when I’m desperate for just five minutes alone.

I’m thankful for the hammer I’m going to use on that gaming system the next time they start fighting over it.

I’m thankful for my health. Considering I’m starting my eighth year after a heart attack (I had one when I was 39), I’m pretty much into bonus time here. As long as I’m not passing out from blood loss and breaking my nose by crashing into and taking out half-moon-shaped holes of the bathroom countertop, I’m good.

I’m thankful for you dudes out there who actually read this stuff. I hope you got something out of it the past almost four years. Even if it was only a couple of minutes wasted without being bored.

I’m thankful that I had my mom, even if it was for a lot fewer years than I wanted.

Most of all, right now I’m thankful that when I stop typing, I can go downstairs and be surrounded by love and joy and family and a slobbery, barking dog. And that they know me well enough to allow me these few minutes alone and love me enough to give them to me.

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