Track 59

​Christmas is kind of like the Olympics. Both have hurdled off from their intended roots and become coerced happenings, co-opted and commercialized. They are Mega-Things full of colorful lights and shiny jewelry leaving a lot of trash in their wakes. In some of the darker corners corruption has set in. Copies have been made, overindulgences, but it gets convoluted when you compare Sochi to Bethlehem. It’s easy to be confused by all the advertisements. I think the IOC now actually runs both events.

But, I’m still a fan. And in between the cracks I’ve seen greatness. Underneath the layers of bubble wrap there are still Kerri Strug one-legged vaults and unbridled giving moments of joy to be had. Between commercials there can still be wonder. Above the noise and bustle meaningful instants can pop up during the Nordic Combined or Tree Trimming.

As if I can bury my head in the sand but still see the star light, I imagine the good bishop Saint Nicholas stretching out to pass the golden baton to a waiting child who anchors and wins the 4 x 100 then wraps it up in comic book paper to lay under the tree for the three wise men. The stands are filled with Salvation Army bell ringers and Costas does the fireside interview with the proud parents. Then, we all have cocoa.

 

 

Jim & Derek Redmond

Track 58

T claims she grew noticeably on our recent escapade to Florida.  Evidenced by where her belly now reaches the bathroom counter vs. prior to the trip. Soon she won’t need a stool.

In ten days is she really that much closer to the faucet?  Is that even possible?  Was it the lasagna or sun?  You mean I could literally watch her grow.  I am amazed by all this/all levels.
Eat.  Grow.   Repeat, but never the same(s).

IMG_20141021_150215384_TOP

Track54- Boom-Rang Battlerap

Yo- check it out->
Good on the sidewalk, situation and sphere,
See miles + miles of it
all in my rear,
Guess for you there’s plenty reason to fear
the stacks/stacks of soul gear
brought with me here,

I’m set,
If we were hunting I’d always win,
Like a German Shorthair, on point all time,
You’re just a little crime dog mcgruff
trying to bite my rhyme,

Get your un-thoughtout thoughts out,
No merci see
I’m sick of em’
and their awful taste,
We ought to put a plastic bag round you,
Call you waste,

I’ve got 3 x 3 lives
and a hot wife,
You’re a traffic jam to be near,
Think Everett or Fife,

I’m with it right now,
If you visit my house you’ll see,
Got ladies up all over me
music
and plenty of trees,
Kid  please, now for free
I’m a hard core father and
tired of this tease,

So it’s not you it’s me and
I’m just not that into you
and here’s your key back
and don’t call anymore
and
leave me alone
that’s a restraining order so
let me put you away,
got gutters to clean,     like yesterday.

Junk out a’ here.

Boom-Rang.
Time.

Pointer

Track 53

All teachers, the best to even the worst I ever had taught me something.
My rap sheet =
BV + AAA +Green River/Walla Walla/Whatcom CC’s + WWU
It’s a blemished/strange/dis-jointed path, at times I wasn’t even paying attention,
and three community colleges not a good look, but for my formal education I’m grateful.
Wouldn’t trade it.

 

 

AAA95 (1)