Facebook SUCKS
Netflix SUCKS
Google really SUCKS
Collectively (literally) known as the FANG stocks these modern day wastes of time suck untold hours of productivity from the world at large. Once the mainframe was combined with both the television and the telephone labor saving became one with time wasting. The little old biddy on the party line joined the blank stared vidiots tuned into MTV to totally overwhelm and overcome any and all time saved by the ever increasing computational power of the mainframe.

Today that mainframe has become the cloud. Quite the funny name for a data warehouse on the ground. “Our data is stored on the cloud” should read “Our data is stored in the fog.” Even more fitting as the fog better describes how most conceive of this alleged cloud. Mysterious as clouds can be what else besides data is lurking just out of sight in┬áthese beginning wisps of darkness, this seed stock of night. One must beware ……. of Beasts with claws, murderous eyes, and FANGs.

Then, there.




There’s nothing new under the sun and there in lies the problem. Everything we do eventually boils down to a routine. Even the routines become routine. We know where everything is. We can do most everything without ever any more having to focus on anything. Our paths are as much felt as seen in great detail. Known.

It’s not like we don’t acknowledge the details, we do. But we acknowledge them as much from memory of routine as from fresh data inputs. We glance over the ‘scapes as if only to reassure we’re on the desired route. Details as vague reference points only. Navigational aides. Noticed on the periphery.

Even when reading most of the words are recognized, interpreted, and incorporated into the sentence before they are completely and closely examined. Gotten the gist and then thrown on the list. Sped read right on by. Only closely re examined when returned to to clear up misinterpretations in the original thought.

Is it any wonder our eyes get lazy and have trouble flexing their muscles enough to read small print or focus on the cracks? Partly to not get distracted by the cracks. Some of the cause could be our propensity to not want to see the cracks in the first place. Seeing the cracks leads to having to address the issue.

Maybe we should address the issue of exercising our eyes. It could be as simple as using them again. Not just looking but actually trying to see things clearly. It may take more time. It may be genuinely rewarding during that time. New details? It may even sharpen our memories.

I best save this draft before I forget.
(I Did)

Don’t know ……. if I’ll ever get it published.

See ya then, see ya there.




It’s a topless summer.

Workers. Not just the crews working on the “acreage”. The guy living there since way back when it was a farm has been running around without his shirt on too. Many years ago I quit wearing a hat. Once I had a tractor with a cab roof to protect me from the noon day sun I never felt the need. My son liked open station (topless) tractors. He died eight years ago rolling one over a terrace.

Body slammed by one hundred fifty horses.

Markets. On any normal year we spend the most active weather months, spring-early summer, looking for a top in the price charts. This year we seem to be looking for the bottom. The hedge funds are wearing their shorts and their not covering them. If they do that may be the only rally left this summer. A kind of never summer summer.

How high can that dead cat bounce?

Corn. Up to five in a row. A stalk, an ear shooting out, but a broken off dying top leaf or two and tassel. Topless corn. And I’m very fortunate. Not far north and east of me the fields are really beat up. Driving by those unfortunate neighbors I am starting to see loads of silks covering the almost totally downed-broken off messes. Just add pollen.

Do these anomalies show up on their satellite views?

Beans. The Japanese beetles (Not an Asian cover band) are giving the sore-beans a run for the money. My money’s on not spraying them, the bankers are reluctant to loan farmers the basic needs let alone rescue treatments on a crop in surplus. According to the hucksters down @ the board of trade. I’ll trade ’em their delusions for a little bit of reality.

We’re nowhere near seven years ahead.

Dancers. Bottomless too. Just ‘cross the river from Offutt. Quite a party when the fly boys get paid. Twice a month. For a mere ten or fifteen bucks you can sit and watch yourself thirty or forty years ago. Or get a closer look for a few more ones. But that might only make you feel old. I guess I finally understand those old geezers who only stop for a short while.

Now that I’m one.

That’s enough orneriness for a hot summer day. Stay cool. Stay hydrated. Stay topless. We have a lot of silks to cover. Spin those tassels …….

Then, there.



Does Dark Matter

At night when the sun with all it’s environs are safely behind a few katillion tons of earth plants and animals more than sleep. We heal and dream and grow. For plants to grow properly, at least the plants that I invest in to grow, the darkness isn’t as important as the overnight temperatures. According to what I’ve been reading whilst it rains.

For a few days, with nightly lows down to the 60 mark things should be normal. What I’m wondering is will the next few days relatively lower than normal daily high temperatures be like saved up cools in the bank for the probable hotter days and nights yet to come? One thing’s for sure, they will serve that very same purpose for the psyche.

Kind of like a nap account. Take every nap you can have the luxury to get. So often times in the hustles and bustles we’re engulfed in there’s simply no time. Though I do remember a day long ago coming back from eating lunch at McClelland’s still open Dew Drop Inn that included an “illegal” (they never carded me) serving of my first frosted mug of draft beer. We’d been cultivating beans.

I hopped on my older brother’s John Deere G with the front mounted four row cultivator and started around the field across the road from the one we’d just finished before lunch. About a quarter mile in and around a corner with old rouge trees growing in it was my brother’s brother in law. Tractor shut off and fast asleep under the trees. Maybe he’d had a few.

Enjoy summer. Spring was unsprung at 5:07 am local time. We have three whole months of wonderful warmth to enjoy. Remember to rest. Dark matters. With what amounts to almost twice the daylight as the last solstice it’s easy to overdo it. Lots of liquids. Even if, especially if a few of them are frosty. You know what I mean.

See ya then, see ya there.




Wish the markets were.

Iowa is green and getting greener. Every year the transition from desert browns of winter to deep forest greens of summer is phenomenal. For about the next month, until the bigger half of Iowa that’s corn turns the almost milky white of corn tassels, we are soaring on the rain forest canopy as we undulate along the rolling hills’ back country roads. Those taking me home.

You don’t get the same sensation flying down the I-80 super slab, aka the king’s highway. Maybe that’s from the always present fellow travelers distracting you from everything except staying alive @ 80 mph in NASCAR bumper to bumper formations. There are long stretches of lonesome sanity between the islands of chaos if one drives a more sane 65 mph.

Your view will be reduced to the right hand side when the maniacs overtake you but that’s still a better view than 90% of the drivers with dirty looks on their face to your left. I still smile and nod. Their rage may be assuaged by my acknowledgement. They are usually more enraged by that speeding maniac on their rear bumper. Once they’ve chased them a while they seldom fall back.

But I digress …….

That’s my post. The beans are growing well in the near triple digit heat. I swear the corn grew six inches overnight. The government program has been adhered to and the paper work going to the crop insurance lady will allow one more summer trip across the fertile fields of home and back. Next? Iron. Hay. Trees. In that order.

Then, there.