Books Worth Reading
A few days ago, a fellow author asked her Facebook audience, “What was the best purchase you ever made?” I replied with a photo of my eighth motorcycle, bought new in 2004.
I was fifty-four at the time. I’d taken a long break from the activity, then resumed with a 1976 Kawasaki 900, a version of which I’d owned in 1974.
Inspired by posts about cars people wish they still had, I found a photo of my 1962 Mercedes-Benz 220, a possession I should have kept for a lot of reasons — including the fact it would have been a good investment.
But then, remorse over cast-away treasures is a common experience as we age. Sometimes we discover such articles in a sock drawer, or hidden on a shelf, joyful we didn’t discard them after all. That won’t happen with the car — I distinctly remember selling it to a nurse who worked at Deaconess Hospital.
I had bought it from my girlfriend’s older sister in 1971, for $600. It cost $3500 new, and was only nine years old. Although afflicted with a slipping clutch, I thought it was a bargain. That said, I was in college, too poor to be an auto enthusiast, too dumb not to be.
Continue reading “Nostalgiafied”
Two days ago, a double-murder-convicted prison escapee crashed a stolen car in a neighborhood across the river. Shortly thereafter, his shoe was found on a nearby boat ramp, implying he might have taken a swim over to our side.
See the featured image. I don’t want to find him hiding under the stairs. We’re locking doors, burning outdoor lights, setting the alarm, and packing heat.
The latter is a practice to which I’m not unaccustomed. Since Indiana is a reasonably enlightened state, the issue isn’t whether or not to carry, but rather what to carry.
Continue reading “Desperado”
There’s a gag I use when meeting a Spanish-speaker for the first time.
Following introductions, I’ll say, “Mi esposa me llama el gordo, pero no se lo que dice porque no entiendo Espanol.”
Delivered with good accent, fairly fast. To wit, “My wife calls me the fat one, but I don’t know what she says because I don’t understand Spanish.”
I always get a good laugh out of it, but Linda says my victims are being polite, and it’s not funny.
If it isn’t, I’ll stop embarrassing myself. Tell me in the comments.
2023 May 10 – Ernie Beagley Dyer graduates from the PetSmart Beginner’s course.
We had a substitute trainer for the final session. Her first words upon meeting him were, “You’re a little shit, aren’t you?”
Yes. Yes, he is. That’s why he placed fourth in a class of six.
He’s worn out from the ordeal, will probably sleep like the innocent, cradled in my arms all night.
Which is how he gets away with things.
Life in the Philippines. World travel. Mid-century. For context, see my essays, starting with https://johndyerwrites.com/2022/08/19/one-to-nine-1-john-dyer-writes/
Not with the patience of a cat; I have too many things to do. But I did notice, out of the corner of an eye, the appearance of Vivek Ramaswamy on the campaign trail — polling at 1.5% alongside Mike Pence, which isn’t great although it’s certainly more attention than I’m getting.
So, good for him. The man has an interesting story and an energizing message. If you care about politics, you might take a look.
https://www.facebook.com/VivekGRamaswamy
Image by Markus Bieck from Pixabay
Life in the Philippines. World travel. Mid-century. For context, see my essays, starting with https://johndyerwrites.com/2022/08/19/one-to-nine-1-john-dyer-writes/
Dad passed away in 1999, so there's no indexing this. Please comment if you recognize people or places.
For context, see my essays about the expat life, starting with https://johndyerwrites.com/2022/08/19/one-to-nine-1-john-dyer-writes/
For context, see my essays about the expat life, starting with https://johndyerwrites.com/2022/08/19/one-to-nine-1-john-dyer-writes/
John Dyer Writes 
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