Showing posts with label primal scream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label primal scream. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

A CRY IN THE WILDERNESS

Moon rising last night

Well, it's not exactly a cry. It's more like an incredibly loud uninhibited shriek of relentless frustration. A primal scream. My scream was so loud that birds fell out of trees two miles away and coyotes hightailed it to Kentucky.

I've been in a very foul mood for days and it ain't pretty.

That's impossible to believe, Jon. How could anyone as sweet, gentle, kind, easy-going, caring, humorous, incredibly likeable, and disarmingly charismatic as you be in a foul mood?

Aw, blow it out your *******!!!!

I've been without water for over a week and my patience is wearing thin. I've already endured 250 snowstorms this winter (slight   exaggeration) and the next one is expected by Thursday. It's so friggin' cold in this wilderness shack that I had to pad my knees to keep them from knocking together and if I run the heat constantly my utility bill will be $450,000 (slight exaggeration). My back still hurts so badly from falling on the ice that I can hardly sit, stand, or lay down (no exaggeration).

And yesterday I risked driving into town to get some desperately-needed groceries. When I got home I realized that I forgot to buy milk. There's no way in hell that I'm going to drive for half an hour on narrow, twisting, dangerous mountain roads all the way back to town for a gallon of milk.
There are plenty of cows in the meadow next to my property. I'll damn well get a bucket, climb over the fence, and start milking them.

 Did you ever try to get a plumber in a tiny rural hick town? I've been trying for over a week with no luck at all. One never answers the phone. The other never returns my messages. The third never showed up.

What is required to get their attention? Do I have to bribe them with drugs and sex? 
Hey, no need to panic. I'm living in Deliverance country......

This doesn't only happen here. I had the same frickin' problem when I lived in the small hick town in west Texas. When my furnace broke during the coldest winter in history, I couldn't get the repairman to come for two weeks. And he lived a mile away.

Mayberry RFD has a much slower-paced lifestyle than the rest of the world.

Why did you ever choose to live in the wilderness anyway, Jon? We warned you that it wouldn't be easy - especially now that you're getting older.

Hey - - one more wise crack about the "older" thing and I'm gonna personally come to your house and make you eat your social security check. I might be old, but I'm twenty years younger than you. Well, okay. Maybe ten.

When it comes to choosing between the two Rural Evils there's no contest. I'd rather be devoured by wolves in the Tennessee mountains than go back to the putrid bowels of Texas. I've always maintained that Texas is the worst place on earth and I've never changed my mind. My experiences there literally destroyed me - mentally, physically, and financially. I'll never look back.


This was my back yard in Texas
during one of the endless dust storms
(I'm still coughing dust out of my lungs)


Wicked winds, perpetual dust storms, endless droughts, relentless heat, scorpions in my boots, rattlesnakes in my back yard, nightmarish neighbors. Did I mention wicked winds?  
Not to mention those three unscrupulous realtors who crucified me for four long years and afterwards gleefully drank my blood.


This is the view from my window in Tennessee


Here in the Tennessee mountains I have peace - - something that I've been seeking my entire life.

 My only neighbors are cows and horses. And birds, owls, white-tail deer, coyotes, wolves, 'possums, squirrels. At night I hear gentle winds singing in tall trees. In the morning I watch the haunting, ever-changing mountain fog from my bedroom window.

Despite all the gross inconveniences and pioneer lifestyle - - I'LL GLADLY TAKE IT!

Nicely expressed. So, are you feeling better, Jon?

Hell, no. But I will after I have a few beers. And find a plumber.



My back yard