Economy, Gas Prices, Mood Swing

By WR Jones


    My ADD is so advanced that the flapping of a butterfly’s wings on the next block is enough to distract me.   But I have found a, perhaps even worse, personality disorder in my mood following prices at the gas pump.

    You might expect drastic changes in the economy to affect your mood.  This is too much for me.  It is too complex; not sure if I should shit or go blind when they announce yet another forthcoming economic tsunami.  So I keep it simple.  Gas prices up, I’m down.  Gas prices down, I make little chittering sounds of joy.

    Did you ever feel the rush you get when you impress someone?   It is some kind of high, like the endorphin buzz you get from running 100 miles (OK, 1.65  0.65 miles), or if your knees are bad, the buzz from that last vicodin and a half  an entire bottle of reasonably priced cheap wine. 

    It feels so good and is so hard to achieve when, like me, you have absolutely no skills to aid you on your quest to impress.   And so it went on my last attempt.  I was watching a survival show on TV and saw the difficulty in starting a fire using a stick and a bow.   I thought my neighbors would be bowled over if they could see me start a fire.

    I made a bow using a plastic hanger and a shoestring from one of my wife’s shoes (I wonder if she will notice).   There was a stick in the garage.  All I needed was the bottom part that has to be hollowed out a bit to hold the spinning stick.   I know you would not have a power drill to make the hollow spot if you were in the woods  (why would you want to be in the woods?) but I was in a hurry.

    Do you know how fast those pointy sharp drill bits chew through a soft piece of pine, and then on into the oak floor under that pine?  I do now.   It looks so easy on New Yankee Workshop or DIY.  I wonder if I email them they might intervene in my upcoming punishment?   Actually, that is a little premature, my wife might not find out about it;  I filled in the hole with shoe polish. 

    Out in the front yard I’m cranking on that bow when the neighbors come out to get in their car.  The only thing getting hot at this point was the palm of my hand.  Turns out you are supposed to have another piece between your palm and the spinning stick.  I must learn to pay more attention when watching TV.

    They look at me and ask what I’m doing.  “Starting a fire.”  “Why?”  “Get warm.”  “Why don’t you go in the house and turn on the heater, you idiot?” “Say, that is not a bad idea, thanks.”

     I’m not absoulutely certain, but they didn’t look impressed.

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14 Responses to Economy, Gas Prices, Mood Swing

  1. Rebecca says:

    Good one! (Don’t have many words this morning.. because I spit up my (resolution) latte while choking on the foamy bubbles as a result of the pain in my rib cage which sent me into hysterical convulsions from visualizing YOU in this story! ..I feel like Mr. Monk. I’m LOLing out loud!)

  2. Well gee those primitive skills might come in handy if your electricity goes out (like ours did).

    Nice painting, by the way.

  3. Jala Pfaff says:

    I’d like to hear you making those “little chittering noises of joy.” I’m guessing it might sound a lot like how raccoons sound when they find out how easily our compost lid comes off. It’s a very cute sound.
    Nice painting, by the way.

  4. Nava says:

    Oh wow, those mood swings of yours can really cause you to get adventurous. I am sure your wife won’t notice the hole in the floor which you oh so cleverly filled with shoe polish (same color, I presume?). Nor would she notice the missing shoestring. Or the neighbors moving out.

    Nice painting indeed. That butterfly looks as if he too is trying to start a fire. I’d better go get myself a bow.

  5. Tools must be treated with respect. I once was holding an exacto knife in my right hand. Said hand was resting on a table edge with the sharp end (a number 11 exacto blade) pointed directly at my back. I was talking with someone and forgot about said exacto knife held in hand. I casually leaned a little further towards the table’s edge and stabbed myself in the back (if you can’t trust yourself, who can you trust!!). Didn’t really feel any pain, but did feel something warm flowing towards my butt. True story!

  6. That was enlightening to read.. sincerely expressed.
    Great painting as well!

    Happy New Year btw.

  7. kimiam says:

    Bills, maybe they weren’t impressed, but you did make an impression!

  8. Lori says:

    Wow Bill, we have both been playing with fire this week! My bright idea is to heat our hot tub with our old wood burning stove. (its gas heater is dead) Me and my son dragged the cast iron beast out to the hot tub, I put some copper tubing into the stove and into the tub, filled the tube with water (made siphon) and lit the stove. (I used a lighter, never could do one of those bow things) Three hours later and still the hot tub isn’t hot. Position, length, diameter of copper tubing is off somehow. I am thinking some more experimentation is in order. Sigh.

    Good idea with the shoe polish, has she noticed yet? I always used crayon wax for that kind of trouble.

    Lovely painting, nice and soft.

  9. I had a good chuckle both from your blog and your very witty commentators. Rhymes with Potaters; if I can only get the fire lit in the wood stove, perhaps I’ll have some for dinner…
    On a trip to Fiji, we went to a “cultural village” where some Fijians showed us many of their cultural talents, one of which was how to start fire with rubbing a stick against a block of wood loaded with some fine shavings or dried grass as starter.
    They almost died laughing in the attempt(and so did we). They were trying to look natively fierce cannibals such as they had been before the Christians objected to being asked for dinner and cured them of the habit.
    Their consternation at not being able to get the darned thing started in front of their paying audience was a sight to see. Finally they got a whisp of smoke and then a lick of fire, and all was well, but it took a good five minutes and they were sweating, and I don’t think it was from the ambient heat. More likely from acute embarrassment.
    The secret, they told us, was that you had to use the same wood for the stick you rubbed with and the wood that you rubbed against. If they weren’t the same, the process wouldn’t work.
    Their best trick for producing fire was to keep the previous fire going. Nothing like it for getting another fire going!
    Well, there’s my wisdom for the day.
    Nice picture. Just keep painting.

  10. Lisa B. says:

    So, you’re stealing butterflies now? What happened? Did the neighbors run out of blooms? Happy about $4.00/gallon gas? How much Exxon stock do you own?!?

    Our last cozy winter fire resulted in our first chimney fire. Ain’t fire extinguishers wunnerful.

  11. wrjones says:

    Rebecca – I’m sure you meant all that to be a compliment, thanks.

    Diana – Thanks. Well at least you can keep warm by yanking out fence posts. You should probably plant some new ones so you have a little joy to look forward to next year.

    Jala – Thanks. Call me, I will make that cute sound for you.

    Nava – I’m called Iowa Jones, adventurer/engineer.

    David – we might be related. That move was dumber than 40 water buffalo.

    Disturbed Stranger – thank you. Can you get dates with a name like that? Hey, if it works, I will try it.

    Kimiam – I think that is a good way to put. I’m sure I made an impression.

    Lori – that project sounds too big for me. Wake me when the water gets hot and the wine chilled.

    lookingforbeauty – you have found it, right here (no, not Lisa, me). Did you run out of ink at your blog? You are dipping pretty deep into our stash. Oh well, write as much as you like, Lisa pays for the ink.

    Lisa B – My Lisa payed for that butterfly. Now she is all jackjawed because I broke it; says I have to buy/steal my own from now on.

  12. Bonnie Luria says:

    No bad apple here in this barrel of laughs.
    I say, leave the pioneer stuff to the Branch Davidians and get yourself a Bic.
    That way, you’d have more time to paint.

    Really, nice apple.
    Are butterflies cheaper by the twos’?

  13. I’ve got a funny fire story too (only mine is for real). A friend and I got together to have a fire ceremony in her back yard to celebrate her new job and new year’s resolutions and such. So her husband was not only not invited but banished from our little gathering. Only the wood was wet and the fire wouldn’t start, even with a whole bottle of that fire starter liquid. So we had to go get him with our tails between our legs. ..and well you know the rest. He was better at fires than you.

  14. wrjones says:

    Bonnie – my tan is fading, can I come stay with you? Lisa bought two butterflys and a large moth. I don’t know what she paid and don’t plan to ask. I only broke the one. Thanks for the compliment but that is not an apple but a persimmon. Ah, what the hell, close enough.

    Susan – damn it. Are you impugning my posts? Questioning the veraricty of my life stories? These stories are verified by disinterested third parties (which are a dime a dozen on this blog). Ok, maybe not a dozen, how about a dime a couple?

    Are you sure you ladies weren’t drinking the stuff that is used to start a fire? Everybody’s better at fires than me, and a lot of other stuff too.

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