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Entry date: 6-14-2023 – Wonderful World of Bird Eating – Letters to My Friends

Dear Friends,

We took a walk this morning and within about five seconds, both Bailey and Luna ate a part of a dead bird. Now, in the world of dog ownership, this is nothing new or super interesting, but it made me think about the things we do on the spur of the moment sometimes. Like Bailey and Luna, I think I’ve eaten street bird a lot in my life.

You’re rambling along, minding your own business, and bam! Whammo! Holy fuckballs! Something or someone or, well, something hits you in the face with an idea.

Opportunity presents itself in a lot of strange ways if you are even halfway paying attention. Fortunately for me, I’ve always had that little governor in the back of my head going, “Don’t do that. Bad things will probably happen,” but sometimes, it happens so fast that you just scoop up that piece of dead bird and pop it into your mouth.

Last year, I wrote about an evening I had in the army where opportunity presented itself and, without a lot of thinking, I just went with it. There have been many times where this type of thing has happened in the music world, too. You’re in conversation with someone, for example, maybe a guy like Andy Gill of Gang of Four, and he lets on that they are worried about their upcoming Phoenix show and Whammo! Five minutes later, I had talked him into putting The Father Figures on the bill so more people would come.

Like in the film, Risky Business, sometimes you just have to say, “What the fuck!” Perhaps that’s what the dogs were doing this morning with the bird. This might make me sick, but “What the fuck!”


Heading to summer school here in a few minutes and then off to take Teresa to the eye doc. I’m guessing we’ll be ordering up some new glasses, too, for Miss T. Always an exciting day. Is it weird to like getting new glasses? I think not.

After I get her to work, it will be dinner with the friends (sans Rhondi, of course, but she’ll be there in spirit). I’m looking forward to it as it will be the last time we are all together for a bit. I’m turning myself inside out over here with anticipation for the coming road trip and four weeks in Maine. Batteries need to be recharged before we start the madness of another school year.

I’ve been dropping little warning bombs to the new crop of fourth graders who are attending summer school. A couple of them are little dickheads. Yesterday I told them, “I sure hope you are in my class this year.” The look on their little punk (not in a good way) faces was priceless.

I love being the teacher that kids want to have but are also slightly afraid of because I have expectations that they will learn and behave. I’m fun but firm, I guess, and I don’t mind telling a student to get it in gear when they are fucking up. I’m sure I will get a few of the discipline cases. It always happens.

That’s what I get, I suppose, for eating the occasional dead bird.

See you tomorrow.

The upside of not drinking for months is finding delicious beers in your fridge that you forgot about.

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