The Slowest Game of Tag

Feet five feet off the floor, I'm watching a plump couple shop for used office furniture.

Their faces are completely disinterested. They could be looking through someone's collection of tax papers. Used office furniture demands very little from any of us.

The woman lets her hand glide across each desk. The man appears to be reaching his goal of visiting every piece in the warehouse.

I imagine them to be playing the slowest game of tag possible. She'll never catch him.

This must be what it looks like to shop for caskets. Old wood and a decision for which you can't muster enough enthusiasm.

Then I remembered someone told me today they were told I believe everything I'm told. My feet are back five feet in the air, hanging light fixtures.

- David Berman

I Want EFX

No one has ever said it better:

Too Costly of a Trip

Most of you know Israel and I were trekking up Poor Valley, VA this weekend. I had planned the four day excursion months ago. It was a hike along the back roads that would take us to Burkes Garden, just Israel, Buck, and me.

First day beat us to death. 20 miles and 35 lbs on our backs, so we just set up tent along the road with the permission of an old Mr. Rickman.

The next morning, Buck was whining to get out and take a leak, so I let him out. Next thing I knew, a car came flying by and I heard a loud thud and then Buck barking at the car. I called for him and he didn't come, so I got out and saw him lying in the road, panting.

He had been hit hard, but was still breathing. I looked him over, talked to him a bit, and hoped he would show signs of just a broken leg or something, but the more I checked him out the more it was evident he was at least paralyzed and had internal bleeding.

His breaths became very labored and it didn't take long for him to show signs of being in serious pain, so we dug a grave and borrowed Mr. Rickman's .22 rifle. We laid him the grave and I told him he was a good dog. Israel did the difficult deed.

We were both bruised and beaten, and I didn't have it in me to go on, so we ended the trip there in Allison's Gap, perhaps to pick it up again some other day.

Buck remains there by the creek, and you wouldn't believe the hole he has left in my life.