January
through April,
2004
Thursday, April 1, 2004
Mailbag:
HI Dear Bobby,**
Why do you say in Fan Bonanza that you are not
Bobby? It is fine with me but I know and feel it with all
my heart that you are the Bobby I met years ago and I
am still very fond of you. I wish you would send me
some pictures of you. You look wonderful to me and
do not worry about what other people tell you.
I will be sorry for the rest of my life for not going when
you asked me. I was depressed after Harold's death
and I was a little crazy too. I am not like that anymore.
What I felt for you, that is still with me.
Tell me if you know when you'll next go to the
Ponderosa. I am not sure when I go so maybe we could
go together or meet in Truckee.
I will stop talking about you in the room. You mean far
more to me than anyone else there.
Warmest Regards,
Your Sweet Sylvia
Dear Sylvia,
I'm not Bobby. Nobody's ever called me Bob or Bobby.
When I told you in Fan Bonanza that I wasn't Bobby,
I was really telling you the truth. I have never been to
the Ponderosa. The only place interesting I've ever
been is Knotts Berry Farm.
Robert
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
I remember the time I had breakfast just across the
border. I had huevos rancheros.
I don't know what time Mexicans have breakfast but
I was the only one there except for the waiter who
was always ready to go get me ketchup or anything
else I wanted.
Even though there was a lot of poverty in the street,
this restaurant had real cloth napkins. It was nice.
Everything was nice. But every time I put my elbow
on the table, the corner tilted down.
The waiter noticed this and came right over. He
took a book of matches off the centerpiece and
ripped off the cover. He folded the cover two or
three times and then wedged it under the table leg
that was too short. Now the table was perfectly
steady.
That was pretty nice of him.
But on my way out I caught a glimpse of him
removing it and tossing it in the garbage.
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Funny I mentioned Ron because I just got a call from
him.
He felt like talking to somebody because he just got
out of a relationship so he called me to see if I had
somebody's number. No, I didn't.
He had to run, but before he did, this is what I got
out of him. She didn't like him wearing camoflage
pants all the time. And he didn't like always hearing
about chakras.
The last thing she said before she left was something
about his chakras.
Monday, March 29, 2004
Mailbag:
Phyllis Urban writes to say I'm so depressing that she
feels like killing herself. Phyllis, I'm going to start
making stuff up so please hang in there.
Valerie McQueen writes to confess that she harbors a
well disguised longing for me and she hopes that
doesn't make me feel too uncomfortable. Valerie,
most longing for me is very well disguised so it
doesn't bother me at all. I'm used to it.
Edgardo Vega writes to tell me he's very successful
and I'm not. Ed, thanks for keeping me humble.
Mitch from WebHost writes to offer me
www.MyDullLife.com for $145 plus a one time $15
registration fee.
Jane from Oxnard writes to yell at me again. I think
she likes me. But I think she also likes to yell.
Monday, March 15, 2004
I haven't heard from Ron for a while, but if he called
me this afternoon, I'd still consider him a friend.
We go way back together-- to the time when on CB
radio, you had to use a call sign like "KLA 6569."
One day just before Thanksgiving, we were in social
studies and Holly Simmons pointed at Ron and said,
"Look at that green stuff on his neck!"
I looked. Yes, there was a little bit of green stuff on
his neck, right under his chin.
"That's the same color he wore for Halloween!" she
called out.
That was true, too. He had been a big green thing.
But times have changed and we've come a long way
since high school. Ron went on to meet just about
every beautiful woman who's ever been on TV. No
kidding. Here's a photo of him with Pamela Anderson.
In another photo, he gets really close to her famous
pair of sun glasses.
Monday, March 8, 2004
You know Bonanza? I thought they just used some set
in Hollywood, but no, there really is a Ponderosa. It's
north of Lake Tahoe, and you can go there.
They have rides and a petting zoo. And you can have
your picture taken and have it printed out as a wanted
poster. And then you can eat a Hoss Burger at the
Silver Dollar Saloon. Visit the General Store and you can
buy souvenirs and memorabilia.
"Memories of TV's most popular Western come to life
around every corner."
You can even have your wedding there and it costs
only $175. That price includes 20 Free Guest
admissions. Over 20, and it's just $4 per guest.
Memorial Day weekend through Labor Day.
Sunday, March 7, 2004
I don't do it anymore.
Saturday, March 6, 2004
It was very embarrassing for her to admit, but she
wasn't really the last child in the United States to get
polio. She just wanted to be special in my eyes. My
beautiful eyes.
You know, I think I could have married her.
But then it was my turn. And I told her what I
sometimes do in the shower.
Thursday, March 4, 2004
Ted sent me a Gavin Newsom for President sticker in
the mail. I guess it's my choice if I want to put it on my
car. I went to gavinforpresident.com and found out all
about him.
I have mixed feelings.
One time I wanted to put a Disneyland bumper sticker
on our car but my dad said we'd never been there.
I knew that. And I wasn't happy about that either.
Growing up, we just had this one bumper sticker. "Only
you can prevent forest fires."
Tuesday, March 2, 2004
Out the window, I saw those two young women from
True Vine Baptist Church walking toward my house. I
hid in the kitchen and didn't answer the door when they
knocked.
After a long time, I came out. Taped to my door was an
envelop and inside the envelop was an invitiation to
attend a special screening of The Passion of the Christ
at the Century Twin Theater. With this invitation, I'd get
two dollars off the regular ticket price plus I'd get a
complimentary bucket of buttered popcorn.
At the bottom of the invitation, it was signed "Marcie."
And next to her signature, there was a happy face that
looked enraptured.
Sunday, February 29, 2004
You know, I didn't actually say yes. I just nodded.
But God knows.
I feel bad. But not all bad. And God knows that too.
From my front window I saw the bus pull up. She must
have mentioned free pizza again because all the kids,
eight of them, just dropped what they were doing and
climbed on board.
I'm not a good person. Instead of feeling guilty, I just
felt hungry.
Saturday, February 28, 2004
I was sitting on my front steps and two nice young
women came by. They said they noticed I had children
and asked if we had a church. I said no.
They talked some more and they were very nice and
friendly. Tomorrow there's going to be a special pizza
party for kids. Free pizza. They wanted to know if it
was OK for the kids to go.
A big white bus would swing by tomorrow at 11 and
take them to True Vine Baptist Church across town. If
it's OK.
I did something I feel really bad about now. I nodded.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
The neighbor kids play on my lawn because I don't
have a fence.
One time, I opened my front door and tried to glare at
them, but they kept on playing.
Now they think it's OK because I saw them and I didn't
say anything.
Sunday, February 22, 2004
They renamed my junior high after one of those
astronauts who died. It’s a middle school now, too.
They probably should have named it after Miss
Honeychurch, our award winning school librarian, who
was also my homeroom teacher.
She was named Librarian of The Year because, unlike
most schools, we never had any lost or damaged
books.
She kept the library closed before and after school.
And during lunchtime, it was closed so she could have
lunch.
Saturday, February 14, 2004
I was in the men’s room at the San Francisco Zoo and
suddenly there was a noise and it startled me but it was
just the motion detector at the urinal I was using. It
started to flush. I wasn’t done. I guess I must have set it
off some how.
Those motion detectors. They must somehow pay for
themselves. But I don’t know how. When they first came
out I thought they were pretty neat, though.
I live in an old house and my bathroom has fixtures they
don’t make any more. My whole house is like that. If I
want to fix something, I need to get a catalogue and
send away for parts. It’s too hard. So I just let things drip.
For instance, my toilet doesn’t have a handle. I used to
have one but the screw got corroded and one day it just
fell off. I fiddle around in the tank now and then and
usually get things working if I put in the time with trial
and error and certain things I do with paper clips.
There’s a drip but it’s so slow you can’t even see it. The
water builds up to the point where finally just one drop is
one drop too many and it suddenly flushes by itself. Then
it takes about 40 minutes before it does it again. So, I
don't need a handle either.
Wednesday, February 4, 2004
I was out raking leaves but it was windy. And then the
mailman came.
I got a card from Ted. It was a sepia toned photo of a
little boy in his dad’s clothes and the only thing in color
was a daisy drooping from the lapel. Inside there’s no
greeting. It’s just what Ted wrote.
He says that I should take up meditation.
I tried meditation a couple times and cleared my head,
but then stuff drifted right back in.
Mr. Meece, my 7th grade P.E. teacher, showed me once
how to blow my nose without kleenex.
And then there’s the book report I did on The Clue of the
Twisted Candle. Nancy Drew had an escort named Ned
Nickerson.
So, no. It doesn't work for me.
Saturday, January 31, 2004
I remember how the French Club in high school got together
during Christmas break and went to people’s houses and sang
French Christmas carols.
The girls had long, straight hair and were nicely dressed. Some
of the boys were on the water polo team. Everybody was
happy and sang well and the songs were sweet and beautiful.
After they sang at one house, and sampled the sparkling punch
and ate a few French sugar cookies, they thanked the host and
hostess, both in French and in English, and then they moved on
to the next house.
The host and hostess would say, “Those are good kids. Look,
our living room carpet doesn’t have even one crumb on it.”
I wasn’t in the French Club so I don’t know how I know this. It
must be a false memory. My counselor advised me to take
Spanish.
There was a Spanish Club but I went to only one meeting. It was
during lunch.
There was a boy from Honduras who looked like he was 12 and
he wore a fuzzy green sweater and a tie. He didn’t speak English
and he looked worried.
And there was a Mexican girl named Margarita who looked kind
of busty but I think she really just made the most out of being a
little over weight. She wore a lot of makeup. And she spoke
English but mostly she just smirked.
We didn’t hold a meeting and elect officers. We just looked at
each other and waited to see if anybody else would show up.
And then the bell rang.
So, we didn’t get together during Christmas to sing Christmas
carols.
There was just one song we sang in Spanish and it was during
class with Mr. Gomez. It was about a cockroach.
Monday, January 18, 2004
I stopped at a red light and I noticed the woman in the car next
to me. She was about my age and she wore glasses. She had
lines in her face but they, I don’t know, ran with the grain.
You could say she was beautiful. But you had to look at her a
while first. I liked that.
I decided to look at her until she glanced over at me, at which
time I was going to look away, but she never did.
And then, still looking straight ahead, I saw her smile. It was like
she was thinking of something really complicated and then she
finally figured it out. Or maybe she was thinking about something
most people never pay attention to and she saw the beauty in it.
I thought, maybe if she met me, she might like me.
The light turned green and she drove off.
There was a lot of traffic so it was kind of difficult but I tried really
hard to get behind her to see what kind of car she was driving. I
wish I knew why.
MyDullLife.com