Worry
Rip Van Plumber’s Crack (Winkle) was out today. That is a certain sign of spring. He wears very little clothing so cannot long endure the cold weather. I don’t know where he goes during the dark months. Maybe he has a little house somewhere, similar to the little house I built for Msr. P. Catt. Rip is a man of about 70 years, long grey beard, long hair, very thin body. He walks leaning forward and very gingerly, as though his feet were hurting. Of course, he wears a sort of slipper that reminds of a ballet slipper. That might be why he walks so gingerly. The tight shorts may be a contributing factor. I know, as a male, that shorts so tight affect the external bits in negative ways. They would certainly cause me to walk gingerly. Spandex bicycle shorts are his favourite. He seems to like black ones. Today’s pair were ultra tight and not the right size, revealing a fine butt crack and clear skinned cheeks. The finishing touch was a white, skin tight, midrift revealing t-shirt and a Tim Horton’s cup in hand. Wonder where he is going? Perhaps an important meeting with his lawyer?
I wonder some times where I am going. Don’t you? Are we just slogging carefully down the street, leaning forward in anticipation of our next move? Are we tightly gripping a five year plan? Are we adrift? Well, adrift has other connotations than negative ones. Adrift can mean free, as well as rudderless – out of control. I used the word adrift in a poem and I meant free when I said it. I have felt adrift as rudderless and I felt adrift as free. I am free, today. I have just returned from a nice vacation spent with good friends. It was lovely and a changing sort of experience. I was forced to relax because I was several thousand miles away from me, my world. There was no option but to sit on the beach and watch the sea. I slipped to another cog on the mandela? Yeah, kinda. I told a friend this morning that I don’t feel time pressure today. That is true. I am just doing what I do in the time it takes to do it and not worrying about what is yet undone or needs attention in some way. What a strange feeling, this relaxed thing. Wonder how long it will last? It better not last too long because I have some serious worrying to do, don’t you?
Rip Van Plumber’s Crack does not seem to be worrying. He is just walking to and fro, gingerly, with damaged genitalia and not a care? Who knows. I think he might be worrying about the Tim Horton’s cup being less than half full or maybe he is worrying about the locusts coming this year. He isn’t letting the worry affect his half-naked travels though. I won’t let the worry affect my half-baked writing, I am determined. Ha. Don’t you let it affect you, either. Donald Trump will die someday…just like the rest of us. He doesn’t worry, so why should we.
Robert On The Air 