Rest Area

Postcard from Warbler Park

This is not a Blue-Ribbon Black Angus Hovering Above a Field of Poppies

Synaptic Frost and Fire

Pieta (with Blue Marlin)

Another Tom, Another Place


Accidents Will Happen

Kooka w/ Wireless Remote-Controlled Hexacontatetragon Yo-Yo


Wherefore Art Tao

Aluminum Eldorado w/ Practical Tactile Christ

Nothing Is Ever What It Is

1/2 of Abraham Lincoln

Madonna with Yellow Jacket

Mule and Architecture

Satan Claus


Ray and Faye

Ray and Faye in Their Younger Days
In 1992 I met a married couple in Nashville, Tennessee who looked as though they might actually have been related. They rode around in an old beat up 1971 El Camino with a filthy, old, white poodle named "Jessie," who had 3 teeth. Here's all you'll ever need to know about Jessie: sometimes his farts smelled so bad you had to pull off the highway and either gag yourself, or go for a long walk.

The couple, Ray and Faye, both of them, as I soon observed, had copious amounts of hair in their ears; both were around 270 lbs. each, by the time I met them, and both carried large, serrated steak knives on their persons. Also, both were adamantly persuaded that Jesus Christ himself would come back to Earth, someday, riding on the back of a gigantic flying snapping turtle which would burst through the living room ceilings of every sinner on Earth, and snap off their heads as quickly and as efficiently as one might snap a stick of celery in half.

By degrees, then, I came to learn that Ray and Faye were, how shall we say, especially eccentric people. For example, not only did they share the sometimes unnerving habit of spontaneously throwing themselves on the floor, writhe around like a tangle of worms, and shout in some incomprehensible language, which I came to learn was called, "speaking in tongues." It sometimes happens to Christians when the Holy Spirit takes over their bodies and souls. They also believed Conway Twitty was, in fact, a modern prophet of God.

Sometimes Faye was often so spiritually attuned to the cosmos she thought nothing of peeing on herself whenever, wherever so moved, and quite often on the cushion of my antique wing-back chair. It was mostly a minor nuisance.

For 20 years they both believed that Faye had diabetes having been informed so by a certified medical professional. So Ray, dutifully, gave Faye insulin shots in her butt, every night, before bed, for 20 years, until the day they both found out, from another medical professional, that Faye didn't have diabetes at all, and never did.

P.S: Ray once tried to give me lessons on how to precisely and properly kick live puppies across his yard. As I had no genuine enthusiasm to learn such skills, I promptly spun him around and tried to pry out his eye with a fork. Of course, this untoward circumstance heralded the sudden, and speedy denouement of our relationship.