I Don't Have Any Problems!

So I woke up this morning thinking the world itself and at least half its problems were on my head, shoulders, chest, hips, on down to my feet, not to mention my brain activity was less than desireable. Between and 1-10 I "were" sittin at a 2!  Of course I won/t go into the details, but there were many or so I thought.  I had run out of HEMP milk for my morning coffee, which makes all my bodily functions work each day, and now having said that.....lite us "Move" on.  I stopped at the local PDQ/KwikTrip/7-11/StopnGo and so on and so on... and I bought a cup of 1/2 decaf, 1/2 coffee to get myself going. Oh duh on the going thing. I meant to get myself more awake.  While choosing the size coffee cup I wanted to purchase a man walked past my rear side and as he did I smelled his aura or laggering cigarette smoke...He was then aside me purchasing a doughnut when his cell phone rang. He listened to the caller.  Then his words were slow, phlegmatic, and deep.  He said, "OK, yes, well we will just deal with it, it is all we can do."  He was about 43 years old, blonde hair below his ears, almost to his shoulders, a black leather jacket, jeans, and don't forget the aroma of cigarette smoke. I purchased my coffee and began to walk to my car when I saw a man leaving the store with a cup of joe and in his other hand a hot dog.  Yes it was too early for a hot dog.  He was an overweight man dressed impeccably... tie and all getting into a small sports car. (the perfect job, no one to fix him a decent breakfast, BUT, still appeared perfect until her bent over grabbing his tie as though something big needed to be fixed. And it did.  He has spilled his perfect coffee on his perfect tie.  I could "feel" his thoughts.  Should I go back home and get a new tie?  Or try to get thru it and drive on to the perfect job in the perfect car with the perfect stained tie?  Then I see the previous fellow coming out the store doors with his coffee in hand while trying to dial up his wife? girlfriend? Mother? with great and deep concern on his face.  My spirit could sense and feel his pain.  Maybe because he looked like my son, the son in prison.  Yet for whatever reason he touched my spirit. Deeply so.  I also noticed his vehicle was an older truck with brush in the back.   He is a low level worker.  He is our middle class.  He is  a survivor.  Do recall I overheard him saying to uplift his other half...'We will deal...we have no choice."  And so he will... Dammit.  Bless it. Both!  It sure took me away from myself.  I happened to notice I wasn't the only one with a problem or ten. Amen

Prime Time (Short Film) Son Cody Ogden...

The Hole to the Center of the Earth...by Diane Ogden

This is the exact spot, as a child, that being age 5,6,and 7, where my so called friends said .............
We lived close to this spot which is directly on Rimrock Road, Madison, Wisconsin.  The Spot, correctly noted by this street arrow is the horror spot my little friends traumatized me/bullied me with.  Let me explain...There was a piece of cardboard that laid in that particular spot for all those
years and each time we children passed it the bullies/friends would tell me the cardboard was covering a deep hole to the center of the earth and to stay away from it forever!  Crimany, I believed them!  Let me tell you about the word gullible....me be it.... I was in my late 20's when someone told me an alligator could stand on its hind legs and run 50 mph.  Of course I knew better, but not before I gasped and said, "No Way Really OMG!"  My lapse in brain activity certainly gave me away more than once...and always on the hole to the center of the earth.  In fact I took this picture the other day... 2010  vs 1955!!   Ya think I never forgot? You would be right!  When I pass that spot every other week while driving to my clients home, I see the cardboard and the fear of falling into a deep dark hole to the center of the earth.  DUH!  I am so darn glad someone filled it in and removed the flattened cardboard box that covered that dreaded death for me!  I think it was certainly just for me you know?  I knew!
What a chicken "pooper" I was...A gullible piece of sensitive sweet little girl who grew into a similar piece of work....A lover of course.
Us sweeties have a heart as bit as the world and a place for many to visit. That makes us an easy target for bullies and cons, doesn't it now? 

Will Love for Food and Dental Insurance.... by Diane Ogden

This might be considered desperate and I am certainly not that. Although I am going to marry someone with good dental and health insurance.  Maybe I am desperate and maybe I am not.  If I make the sign and walk out the door, the tale will be told.  I mean the truth of this tale that is. Of course I am kidding... ya think?

We Dont Know So Much About Life...do we?

The Human Race, on the whole, from my view, the past several decades, has shown "it" really doesn't believe we are all connected at all!  I do.... I really do.

What Color am I? By Diane Ogden

I was again delivering the new Sustainable Times Magazine to the Capital Square area of Madison, Wisconsin the other day when I noticed something I have seen many times before. You know how you travel the same road a hundred and fifty times when suddenly you see a house or business you never saw before.  It had always been there, you just didnt see it!  That is the story of the Food Huts in our city.  Most of them are operated by nice people from other countries.  There are Mexcian Food Stands, Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Mediteranain, Greek, and also greasy American.  Every kind of food and fruit imaginable and all in these little bity house huts. (p.s. some jewelry huts also) Might I add the food and products are wonderful.  I always ask myself the same question?  Why didn't I think of this?  Or why didn't any white man think of this?  Its ingenious to say the least.  Then this past week I noticed something I had never seen before....  A LONG YELLOW EXTENSION CORD running across and up to one of the cities Stop Lights. You know the Red/Yellow/Green stop and go lights owned by the city and paid for by our taxes.  Yes those ones!  I am not prejudiced....I like most all  peoples if they are nice to me and mine....but I did "wonder" what might happen if I wanted to plug my food hut into a city owned stop n go light how that would go over if at all?  Just sayin!  Just wonderin, is all.  What if I parked my car and decided to live in it.  Plugged my toaster into the stop n go light so I could eat...  Maybe I just need a toaster permit. 

Across town there is a man who has one of those huge barrel barbecue-ers. He sells hot dogs and has a red cooler for his soda pop selling...  I am going to check and see if he is plugged in to anything.  And does he pay taxes on the sales of his hot dogs?  He is selling them right on the city sidewalk.  I don't care if he pays taxes on those hot dogs, in fact I hope he doesn't have to.  I am just trying to understand is all.  He has an old green umbrella over his goods and works even in the rain!  People do frequent his umbrella hut, permit or not.

Maybe I should start a hut of some kind.  Only in my imagination! And yours....  

A Walk on the Wildside by Diane Ogden

I was out and about this morning finishing up some deliveries for the news magazine, The Sustainable Times in Madison, Wisconsin.  Not that I was wearing those gorgeous vintage stockings and or blue pumps even tho I do wish I had the courage to do so!  I am going to be so mad when I die and didn't do that among a few other creative yet off ideas.  I come upon the delivery to an old neighborhood building called The Washington Hotel. Doesn't that remind you of a huge red brick Hotel from the 50's with black fire escapes, alley's and a few drunks there and about?  Well it did me. Probably because my Grandmother Gillie used to manage one of those old jobbers in Rockford, Illinois. Had the old elevator along with the elevator operator and big brass gate holding us safely to the next floor.  Mother would never allow me to go too far for fear of something I didn't know what?  I do now!  Back to The old Washington Hotel...  In reality it is two story, on the lake with a gorgeous view of the Capital and the Monona Terrace Center.  Our mini Australian Opera doo daa day in the Bay.  Sorry I forgot what its called but I do know.  Somewhere in my brain is the name of that Bird Billed Architectural "thingy."  God all these college words, cant hardly take it.  OK, back to the point.  I usually park directly in front of The Washington Hotel, take my bundle of magazines inside, place them on the rack, cut the bands and leave.  Today no parking available in front so I park across the Railroad Tracks in an empty lot.  This would be a dreadful place if it were darktime!  But it wasn't so I stifled the GAD that tries to keep me locked up in my house forever. (General Anxiety Disorder) Grabbed my bundle, and headed for the weed surrounded tracks.  Suddenly I remembered all the old movies I saw as child where the good guy/gal gets their shoe/foot caught in the tracks (I have never figured out how that is possible) and of course the train is coming fast blowing its terrifying whistle.  Back to reality? Rarely!  I crossed the tracks looking both ways as if I would miss the huge hunk of metal should it be even remotely close. duh.  Took a few seconds to survey the tracks to see if my foot could get stuck.....There would be no saving me if so.  No hero around the corner, no "Clean Cut Cowboy" to rush in and save the distressed damsel.  That never happens anymore by the way. Not even in the movies I don't think...  I MADE IT and on my own even.  Crossed those tracks, delivered my mags....crossed 'em again with not so much as a smidgen of drama... That's why I have to make up my own.  I love my drama.  It seems so real sometimes.  By the way the picture of Nell isn't me either.  I found that on google.  She does have a neat little blog tho.  http://www.littlenellvintage.blogspot.com/   She is also at http://www.flickr.com/    I am home now, sitting in my jeans and sweatshirt dreaming of some other dangerous interesting little skit I can put myself in.  I am good at it!  Maybe I'll write a book.  I already am.