Silver Wheeled Ponies

Kimberly McCarver sings a song about a cowboy who rolls around on a wheelchair in his final days. It's a steel horse, or a silver wheeled pony. Well, my audience at the home is no different. Not one of them is self-mobile...which is a dark prediction for my own future. I can hardly imagine a time when I can't walk, or shit without assistance. Someone will wipe my ass for me. Wash my swollen feet. Feed me. Pick my fork up when I drop it. Get me more peas when they fall on my lap. Read to me? So bleak. Medication and incontinence. If I'm in chronic pain now then what will I be like in 40 years? Hopeless. Junk.

A similar piano

This song is Cuatro Milpas...about leaving home. The piano is actual a Wurlitzer. It's falling apart after only a few attempts to play it.




Not included in this video is when a woman slumped over in her wheelchair setting off a high pitched alarm. The cameraman is the master electrician who taught me everything I know about refinery electrical but who secretly wants to be a guitarist. He didn't accidentally turn the camera off after fifty seconds, I absently left it on internal memory so that's all it could record. A daughter of a resident (50 years old) asked me if I gave lessons. I said I was only there for the free peach cobbler.

Post Office

I've been going through my posts and "drafting" anything that references CNN. "Breaking News" media is pure poison to me and I've said enough about it to fill a book. It's pure manipulation. But contradicting or criticizing media outlets is basically using poisonous source material as a topic for what I want to be an antidote. But it isn't an antidote, it's more poison. It's derivative poison, so bit by bit I'm going to return those posts to drafts that are no longer published. High profile criminal trials are THE WORST. If you see something I missed then please forward me the link and I'll take it off.