My current curse in life is that I can't get this program to let me put a title on these posts anymore. I have no idea what I did. It was probably an involuntary muscle spasm. My friend Jay Hathway and I believed strongly in the redeeming power of the involuntary muscle spasm. It explained a lot about the choices we made. We used to slap each other and say "Involuntary muscle spasm!" This explained much of adolescence.
I can grow plants. That's part of what makes me a "homey guy." "Bring me home to Mom, baby. I'm homey!" About 18 months ago, I bought an orchid at Target. It was in the Orchid Department, with a bunch of othe orchids. It looked a lot like this:
This is a Paphilopedilum sukhakulii. It looked really scary and I was drawn to it. In Target, for God's sake!Picture it on a metal shelf, between the baskets and the silk flowers. This one is reputedly in the wild, but the one I bought was definitely in suburbia.
After 14 months, I got the Paphilopedilum to flower again. My family now believes I can grow orchids. This is a challenging prospect, but also very interesting. My mother-in-law, Donna, boght me the Phalaenopsis (Moth Orchid) for my birthday. That'd be the one at the top of this post.
I turned 49 Saturday, doing a sound check on the second flat-bed trailer stage in two nights of entertainment. It was some hot asphalt, but things cooled down and folks danced and did a conga line, at DB's suggestion. I have noticed that Fairfield crowds tend to be rather open to suggestion. One guy who appeared to be on the last stages of an ecstasy trip (and not one which included any recent hygiene) yelled "Group HUG!!!" really loud and raised his arms. The dancing Fairfieldians parted like the waters before Moses. Apparently the power of suggestion has its limits.
