Finding Ephemera, and Joy In the Morning?

butts_dispensary

I have been trolling about online for 19th century ads for patent medicine and other assorted ephemera as well as car ads for vintage Toyotas, and I might consider some 1970s era ads for hygiene products and/or clothing (because that shit is hilarious) and various other weird things to transform into wall art for my house.

It’s my house. I’m the only one who lives there.  So my décor is entirely up to me. If I wanted to paint every wall in the house hot pink that is my prerogative.  I haven’t done that, mostly because a.) I don’t have time, and b.) hot pink would look weird on paneling.  This being said, eclectic is the only word I have to describe what I want.  If I like it, it goes up.

68toyotacoronacoupe                                   (but they didn’t synchronize reverse until the 2000’s)

There might be some that think I am being heartless or a bit callous in the transitions I’m making in my life.  The precious only male child is more than a little incensed that I have had the truck detailed (and that I am letting a friend in need borrow the truck for awhile) yet he never claimed that he wanted it or cared what I did with it before.  I know everyone handles grief differently, but why he would want me to let the truck sit in the garage and rot (and reek of old cigarettes and various food wrappers) is beyond me.

The difficult thing is that I have been waiting for years to be able to “get on with my life-” to be able to go have a good time if I feel like it, and to participate at church and in other activities.  No, it’s not about partying like a rock star (way too old) or anything debauched, just being able to do what I want, when I want, within reason.  I feel sort of bad because Mom and Dad both think that because I live back in town and I live alone that I am going to want to spend all my time away from work with them.  The idea here is not to ignore them, but I do have people I want to be around, and things I would like to do that don’t involve them.

activities

It has felt good to be able to go have dinner with a friend, to go out to malls and such, or to sit and watch old Journey concerts on You Tube.  And I am not going to feign being the “grieving widow” because I’m not feeling it. I spent too many years dealing with Jerry and his tirades and demands.  I am prone to depression, and if I really wanted to fall into that mess I probably could, but I’ve spent too much time there already.  Life is short, and I’ve already wasted enough of it being used and worn out and depressed.

And to be frank about it, 12 years of involuntary chastity was not exactly what I signed up for either.  I am certainly not easy or a slut (otherwise, I don’t see going 12 years without, married or not) but should the right opportunity (and I emphasize the word right) arise to remedy that situation, I am not going to refuse.  I am a free woman now.

Let’s Have a Riot! (Why?) and Historical Interest

riot

Why?  Ass pilots!

I am sorry but I have absolutely no pity, understanding or tolerance for ass pilots who drum up misdirected feline aggression toward “da man” because some criminal gets beaten up by cops, and then go off to destroy their own cities.  I don’t care what kind of rationalization gets cooked up to justify that sort of behavior.  Let’s face it: there are flaming idiots who go out and commit egregious crimes. Violence happens.  I don’t like those facts either, or that we humans are violent beasts, but the cure for violence generally is not cooking up more random violence and destruction to add to it.  That’s sort of counterintuitive.  The only sort of justifiable force is the force necessary to put a thug in his place.

Violence is more likely to happen when someone is in the process of breaking the law.  I don’t care if the law breaker in question is male, female, straight, gay, trans, black, white, green or turquoise.  When you break the law, you open yourself up to having the police- or even those who you are breaking the law against- beat the living shit out of you.  I’m not going to start it, but if you physically involve me I will finish it.  If the circumstances dictate, I may just cheer the arbiter of legitimate street justice right on along- but looting the 7-11 because you’re pissed that some thug got what was coming to him from the cops…that’s just plain stupid.

If you steal from me and I beat you senseless, you asked for it.

If you try to assault me or carjack me, and I put a .357 through your skull, (and in the proper circumstance I would not hesitate to do so) you bought and own that particular suicide-by-old-bitty.

taurus357

A last resort, but if it’s you or me…it’s gonna be you.

Leave me alone, you keep your stuff, I keep mine, you keep your hands to yourself, and I have no problem with you.

Why can’t we all just get along?

In better portents, the POMC- the Precious Only Male Child- has signed a contract on a house.  He has, from what I can see, done well for himself, even though I had some trepidation regarding the age of this place.  The main house (it has numerous additions, upgrades and renovations) was built in 1885.  I didn’t know if I was really comfortable with him buying some joint that’s 130 years old, but the basement is thick stone with a concrete floor and the foundation is solid. There are two huge full bathrooms, one upstairs and one downstairs. The joint even has a new dishwasher.  The wiring, water heater, furnace, plumbing, carpets, paint and pretty much all of those kinds of things that can be big problems in old houses are new.  The seller agreed to install the central air unit that goes with the furnace as part of the deal (why he did all those improvements without adding A/C is beyond me, but different strokes for different folks, I guess) so Steve-o will pretty much only have very minor things to deal with once he moves in.  The first call should be to the alarm company, then to the utility companies.

old house

Chez Steve-o is not this ornate, but almost this big.

He will need the alarm company.  He does not have dogs, and even though he is armed, guns don’t help if you sleep like death.  Someone could break into that place and steal him blind and he would sleep through it.

His days of waking up to the All-Catholic, all the time, channel are hopefully numbered.  Now he will probably be waking up to the tune of “Boats and Hoes.”

activities