Good news … bad news …

 

The Geezer (aka - DL Havlin) at the Charlotte Cultural Center with Dan his number one fan. He has every book the Geezer has published.

The Geezer (aka – DL Havlin) at the Charlotte Cultural Center with Dan his number one fan. Dan has every book the Geezer has written that’s been published.

The Geezer had bad and good news this week. The bad news first. Attending local signings, shows, and events are one of the things the Geezer really enjoys. The annual shows held in the Port Charlotte Cultural Center are among his favorites. The bad news? He’ll not be able to attend in person this year. The doctor says his going so soon after his surgery is pushing a little too fast. (Even though the old boy is doing great and his recovery is well ahead of schedule.) Mrs. G will be attending in his place so he’ll be maintaining his commitment to the event. He’s big on keeping his word.

Now for good news! The old boy is a finalist in the flash fiction category of this years Florida Writers Association’s Royal Palm Literary Awards. His entry is his short story, There Are No Lights In Naples. Let’s all wish the old boy good luck.

 

Notification badge for the Geezer's work being a semi-finalist.

Notification badge for the Geezer’s work being a semi-finalist.

 

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How do you like it?

 

Sorry Trooper

My buddy Trooper says he loves it! I hope you do too!

Notice anything different? After many posts and years, I started this blog in June of 2008, I’ve given it a face lift. Well … kind of … Mrs. G gave me a major assist. She says the heading is more in keeping with my temperament, gender, and … well it’s just me.

What do you think?

 

My new job as Physical Therapist … give me a whip!

 

Leading the Geezer - "Only two more miles."

Leading the Geezer – “Only two more miles.”

 

I’m added another title to my many accolades – Physical Therapist. The Geezer’s recent hip replacement has him shuffling along and I’ve decided to take a personal hand in getting the old boy up and operating at full speed! What ever that is for him. Here we’re walking in the morning Florida sun.

I’ve found training him presents its challenges. The use of a dish of ice cream as a treat reward overcomes all obstacles, however. This is another example of how we canines are human’s best friends.

 

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Happy Fourth on the Fifth. …

GEDSC DIGITAL CAMERA

Sorry I’m late — Happy Fourth on the Fifth.

 

Happy birthday to all US citizens. That’s for people that really love this 240 year old country. I HOPE WE WILL BE ABLE TO ALL CELEBRATE 250 YEARS. Unless there is real change in the leadership, I don’t think we’ll see it. This is one time I don’t want to see something go to the dogs.

Happy Fourth of July to my human friends in the US.

Happy Fourth of July to my human friends in the US.

 

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Pardon my fart … or … Shall we recycle one more thing?

Geezer & I share a Christmas kiss

No, your breath isn’t that bad.

 

“Sorry, Sandy.”  The Geezer Gator waved his hand in front of his nose.  “I shouldn’t eat broccoli and baked beans at the same meal.”

I was glad we were sitting on the dock and there was a gentle breeze to dissipate the hovering flatulence.  “Geezer, that was really bad.  I’m glad you don’t smoke.  Lighting a match right now would cause an explosion.  That was a real high octane release.”

“It was a sheet rotter.  I hope it doesn’t turn that beautiful golden coat of yours green,” the Geezer looked at me and grinned.  “You know, maybe you should contact that T. Boone Pickens fellow and give him an idea for another source of natural gas.”

It took a few seconds for his words to register, my mind being slowed by the cloud of methane encircling us.  “Oh, you mean the guy that used to run TV advertisements for windmills and natural gas? That’s years ago.”

“Uh-huh, that’s T. Boone Pickens.”

“You thinking of renting out your digestive system? How much broccoli and baked beans can you consume?” I jested.  “Seems you might wear out parts of yourself pretty fast.”

The Geezer laughed.  “Hey, no single sourcing.  Think about the possibilities.  There’s so much gas being released by cows alone, a TV program I saw says it’s polluting the atmosphere more than automobiles, if I remember, correctly.”

I went along with the flow, “Yep, a completely renewable source of energy.  Just collect it and burn it.  All our energy problems are about to be solved!”

“Who’d of thought that something as simple as the common fart would save mankind.”  The breeze blew the last of the “rotten eggs” smell away.

“Now all we have to do is to collect them, Geezer.”

“That’s the beautiful part of your idea, Sandy.”  The Geezer’s mind was churning.  I could hear the old rusty gears squealing and clashing as they neared full speed.  “Think about all the satellite industries and disciplines that your idea will spawn.  They may end up naming some kind of economic event after you.  I can see it now – The Sandy Cycle.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, just think of it.”  The Gator held his fingers up and tugged at one.  “We’ll need to manufacture fart collectors.  Lots of them.  Think of the jobs that will create.  And fart strainers, that’s a must.  We’ll need a fart acquisition and distribution system, one that allows us to determine the octane rating so it can be sold like gasoline is now.”  The old boy tried to keep a straight face.  “Whole industries will be born.”

“Who’s going to develop all this?”  I prompted him, though I’m sure he didn’t need it.

He tugged at his second finger.  “No problem.  A new field of science will develop, Fartology!  Our leading universities will soon be turning out fartologists that study all facets of the discipline.  They’ll study fart formation, composition, conservation, utilization, everything.  I can see Harvard and Yale bragging about their graduates like they do Bush, Obama, and Clinton.

I nodded, “That sure is true.  Probably will spike deodorizer sales.  I’ll look into buying anti-stink stock, if there’s a stock market left after the next election.”

“Speaking about elections and government, think of all the agencies it will create.”  The Geezer tugged at a third finger.  “There will be the Department of Farts and Feces.  There will be groups studying foods best suited for fart formation, the toxic effect of farts on the Amazon rain forest, and, of course, quality inspectors from FDA.  Think of the graft and corruption potential.  The politicians will love it.  We’ll find out how long a fart can stay on a treadmill. Even the IRS will get their nose into the business as they sniff around for those villainous -“fart syphoners.”

“Interesting.  Who would be appointed to run the Department of Farts?” I asked.

“Sandy, it will take highly qualified individuals to run such a branch. How about selecting candidates from the nightly news?

“Agreed!” I shouted.  “I can’t think of people that are more full of it.

 

PS- this is an old post I revised & recycled- I thought some comic relief was in order.

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Sometimes humans do horrible things – And Nero fiddles …

Sometimes humans do good things -

At times humans do good things – Sometimes they’re plain horrible!

 

Unless you are deaf, dumb or blind, you can’t be ignorant of the events of the last 48 hours. Humanities scum, filth, garbage … showed its depravity in Orlando. Unfortunately, the human who perpetrated this event will get the headlines. Sharing those headlines will be pundits and politicos who ask everyone to “be as one.” Aaaaaa … humans, let me enlighten you … you’re already divided. If you don’t make changes, severe ones, World War Three is in the wings. You cannot allow the type evil that is evolving in all areas of the world to grow and prosper. I’d prefer not to have to scavenge your bodies to survive.

I don’t like to talk politics so I won’t say more than this. You humans need change. In thinking. In policy. In honesty. In functionality. Most of all, in leadership. That’s at all levels, in all organizations. Government and the news media should be first, followed closely by what you humans humorously call collegiate education. Barking won’t get it. The only way a mouth saves is CPR. We have had way to much mouth – in fact, fifteen years of it is enough.

 

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Does it make you sick, too?

Sometimes I want to go hide from the humans and their animosities.

Sometimes I want to go hide from the humans and their animosities.

 

Does it make you sick? It sure makes me want to puke. Humans are becoming more despicable every day. I’ve always enjoyed riding in the car, but now even more! There is NO TV, and the Geezer refuses to have the radio turned on. Why is that good: I’m not tortured by the hostility and violence that is constantly present on the media and masquerades as humanity. I’m tired of people screaming at each other. I’m tired of every TV and movie drama and sitcom having violence or political propaganda at its center. I’m tired of people professing knowledge of things they know nothing about. I’m really tired of folks who dislike others and can’t explain why. (Other than someone else told them they should.) I’m tired of division, division, division, particularly those who accuse others of dividing then do it themselves. I sick of people carrying “stop hate” signs rioting, destroying other peoples property, and trying to injure those who think differently from them. (They are the bottom of the human trash heap. It has to be their way or the violent way.)

Let me share some canine common sense with you humans. I’ll put in bold, colored font so it’s easy to read.

HEY HUMANS:  START EMPHASIZING THE THINGS YOU HAVE IN COMMON AND DE-EMPHASIZING  YOUR DIFFERENCES – – – –

IF YOU WANT TO SURVIVE!

Sometimes a dog has to say what a dog has to say! I’m usually a glass half full, try to write neutral, kind of canine, but I’m really getting to abhor politics and particularly all the political groups stirring up trouble. Pass this along if you agree.

 

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