Road blogging on the struggle of good and evil

Road blogging makes me feel a little free. The blog exists and waits for me like a patient and loyal puppy. Way more patient and loyal than my actual dog. Or the Furby a friend of mine had many years ago. Why a grown man had a Furby, wait never mind, I know why this one did. He collected Barbies. Anyway, once he "woke up" the Furby after not playing with it for a long time. The Furby said, "oooh, long sleep." The blog doesn't do that. It just sits there unmolested and waiting. Waiting for me to go to the local internet cafe/coffee house where "God is [their] barista." Just FYI, God makes middling nonfat iced lattes.

We're at the Atlantic Ocean. We live about 30 minutes from a perfectly good ocean. It's called the Pacific, I think. Every week I get within 5 miles of it when I go to therapy. I can smell it. Still, why not get in a plane and fly across the continent to the other one? It's warmer. And then there the thrill of the hurricane possibility. Gives me a little zing every time I think about it.

So, blog away east.

So far on my summer vacation, I've spent more time than I should looking for a 7mm hex screw. It fell out when I shipped my old bike here to be able to ride it near this ocean. One screw should not make a whole bike disfunctional. It does. And apparently 7mm is just the weirdest size ever. As I sit here at God cafe, I am worried that the fourth screw I have acquired from the ninth store visited looking for the screw will not work. It taunts me from my pocket. It's not the kind of snickering a shed does. It is, however, rather insidious in its evil. Stupid screw.

Just a tip: when shipping with or traveling with bikes, bring 7mm hex screws. Lots of them. Maybe even make a belt of them to be sure you'll have enough. The bike store won't have them. Oh, and remember that everything is closed Sunday. God is tired from making lattes.

Much to certain famous bloggers' consternation, the sporks didn't come. The buttery rubbery clogs did come. They've been worn. Here's something remarkable, the people of this coast are just as jealous of them as the people of the other one. Lots of glances and no comments. Sigh.

Honey is blogging right now, too. We're a computer away from each other. Between us are two people who seem alarmed that it costs 10 cents a minute to use the computer, with a $1 minimum. Shocking, I know.

So, bravely blogging, I vow to stop writing and therefore to stop paying. I may have to supplement Honey. She's more careful than I am in writing.

Still, my blessed latte sits by my side. And those evil screws nestle in my pocket like so many vipers. It's the age old struggle between good and evil. Right here at God Cafe. Near the Atlantic Ocean.