Klowns in my Koffee

Daily Kup (My Freelance Life)
Today's temperature was described throughout the country at 6 PM by all the guys like Weatherman Chip in Channel 22's Big Backyard ("Your weather eye in the sky") using only three adjectives repeatedly:  sultry, torrid and sweltering.  These are terrific words and they are only used in this situation ... or in movie reviews of Angelina Jolie or the early Kathleen Turner.  I wish one of the weather chipmunks would look directly into the camera, rip off his striped JC Penney tie, and tell us what we know in our souls:  It's freakin' hot out there.

We don't have air conditioning.  That's a simplification, actually.  We have an air conditioning unit and it generates sufficient cold air to cool the house to a comfortable level.  Unfortunately, it dumps cold water on the basement floor at the rate of about a bucket every 15 minutes.  A few years ago, this relieved me of having to figure out what to do with a few thousand dollars' worth of college engineering textbooks.  I'd been holding onto their obsolete little carcasses until life gave me a little nudge  by having them float past me.  Also a nice rug and some clothes for a skinnier me.  "Don't get so attached," the river called to me as I tried to beat the life out of it with a mop.  Until I dig the channel for the swimming pool, I guess we are going to perspire on days like today.

In the early evening, I met some old Porkus friends for a drink.  One of our dwindling group is transferring to another Porkus branch closer to his ancestral home.  This is such a set-up for a line about 'out of the flying pan and into the fire' that even I can't go for the easy laugh.  The devil that sits on one of my shoulders -- really ,,, I'd have it removed except it would leave a scar -- was wringing its hands and screaming, "Run, friend, as far and as fast as you can!"  The angel on the other shoulder was sure that this would all work out really swell in the end.  [The angel is an imbecile who told me the same dog-eared nonsense during the last five soul-sucking years.  Bad baseless optimist.  Bad.  Bad.]

But it was absolute fun in the real sense of the word to see the guys again.  At the end, there was something of that yellow glow as the scene faded and the narrator cut in all grown up to remind us that there will never be another time like that again when you and I and River Phoenix walked down the railroad tracks to see that dead body and came back older and wiser.  And that is truly a fitting end to the Porkus story.

Brewing Fresh Tomorrow
A new chapter for Klowns In My Koffee starts tomorrow.  Of the many, many things that I've learned in the last 122 days of listening and reflecting, one of the most striking is the enormous talent of the people with whom I am lucky enough to share this planet.  Going forward, I will attempt to bring these talented voices into our growing community by featuring their work whenever possible.

Regular readers of this blog will be familiar with Corsair09, a commenter whose wickedly funny and informative entries have added spice, sizzle and a scifi master's touch.  When you read those comments, don't you just want to meet the author?  Corsair09 has generously allowed me access to the original content he produced for his blog, now lapsed from active publishing.  Stop back tomorrow to read a superb essay on fathers, sons, fireworks and lasting lessons called "Of Zeppelins and Physics."  It's so good, you'll swear you can hear Richard Dreyfus as the narrator.

Last Drop