For those wondering if I am still alive … It has been a rather crappy week, as crappy weeks go, even for someone such as myself who has raised the crappy week to an art form. I am going to dig out my tent and head for a weekend on the beach. No work — just sun (or rain or cold or wind … ), some books to read and something cheap for sustenance. If you would like to donate, this is the time for it. Hit the donate button and PayPal will do the rest. Remember, the best things in life aren’t always free. Of course, this blog is not the best thing in life. So that’s even a better reason to donate. Ta.
Joint Chiefs discuss serious matters
A vagabond with (almost) a job
I am using the library computers which might all of a sudden go bye-bye so I will make this brief. I am very near a part-time job which should give me the perfect hours to continue freelancing and perhaps, even survive. The only problem is a lack of adequate shelter, meaning none really. Were it not for my meeting a person from my new job tomorrow, I would be on the way to the beach for more solitude. Oh well. Stay tuned for my big homeless adventure.
Hitting the jackpot
Wow. I just learned I won 850,000 Euros in the National Lottery of Burkina Faso. I must apologize by saying, I normally pride myself on my geographic knowledge but I’m not certain where Burkina Faso is located.
Okay. So according to Wikipedia, Burkina Faso is in Western Africa and was the country once known as Prince, ah, I mean Upper Volta. I was always intrigued with the name Upper Volta and its twin nation Re Volta. Hah, hah, hah. I am much too busy and yet too lazy to read the entire Wikipedia article or anything else about Burkina Faso-Upper Volta right now, so I guess I’ll have to wonder for awhile as to whether Lower Volta ever existed. I could envision the Voltas in battery terms with Upper Volta being 12 voltas and Lower Volta at 9 voltas. However many amps might have been involved will perhaps remain an even bigger mystery.
The e-mail I received here at EFD from OUAGADOUGOU BURKINA FASO indicated that because a mix-up occurred, I have been asked to:
” … keep your winning information confidential until your claim has been processed and your money remitted to you. This is part of our security protocols to avoid double claiming and unwarranted abuse of this program by some participants.”
In the words of that great mind, Jessica Simpson: “I totally don’t know what that means.”
Apparently EFD was selected among more than 30,000,000 e-mails to receive this substantial amount of money. Perhaps when I receive the sum I will give it back to the nation of Burkina Faso and will forever be known as “That Crazy Man Who Gave Back The Money.” I could just see my great-great-great grandchildren some day visiting Ouagadougou and coming across a statue of me, the great hero of Upper Volta-Burkina Faso-Brangelina. The country will honor me with a week-long celebration in which people give money to each other for gifts and then have to give it all back. Yes, money can’t buy you love, but it can buy you something to eat and drink.
Peace, love and Coco Puffs to my loyal subjects in Burkina Faso. May your days be days and may your feet always smell not-so-bad.
A quiet night at the beach
A little solitude is good for what ails you. Thus, I sought the solitude of the beach last night. It was the first time I had been to the beach in some time, so I wasn’t about to let the cold, wind and rain keep me away.
As I expected and had hoped, the cold, wind and rain kept others away instead. McFaddin Beach is about 10 miles west of Sabine Pass, Texas, down an interrupted State Hwy. 87.
The road once was a straight shot from Port Arthur and points North to the Bolivar Ferry which goes to Galveston. Erosion from several hurricanes closed the highway between McFaddin Beach and High Island. I suppose if one had an all-terrain vehicle, the trip could be made between those two points. I don’t know that is a fact, however.
Those well-meaning souls who want Jefferson County to prosper and grow desire that Hwy. 87 be rebuilt where it is now shut off. It would be a closer, thus quicker, route to Galveston from Beaumont and Port Arthur. But it is exactly the desolation created by the closed highway that attracts me so to McFaddin Beach.
Holidays are about the only time when any substantial numbers of people are out there. And when it is 40 degrees with wind and rain as it was last evening, the numbers decline significantly. During the time I spent there — about 16 hours — I saw only one person. He was a Texas Parks and Wildlife warden who was making a pass up the beach. I stopped and asked him a couple of questions and let him know I was camping, not that I had to do so.
Also, I spotted exactly two other vehicles down there during the night. One car sat at the entrance to the beach for quite awhile then took off. It was great listening to the waves and gentle rain lapping the top of my pickup — and nothing else. Yes, I was too lazy to pitch a tent. And, I slept just fine although my neck aches a bit today.
The solitude didn’t cure all of my problems, but it did put them out of sight and out of mind for a little while. I wish I could patent solitude, I’d have more money than Trump, Gates and Buffett (Warren AND Jimmy) all put together.