The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

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Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Gone Fishin'

It has been over a month since I went to Mexico. I wish I was there now. And I can only wonder how Lorenzo's fish are doing. Here is a picture of the team (minus one Dr. Adam who was pulling a tooth) by the completed fish pond.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Nightswimming Deserves A Quiet Night

I have tried everything to get to sleep tonight. Nothing has worked.

John Steinbeck once said that "It is a common experience that a problem difficult at night is resolved in the morning after the committee of sleep has worked on it."

I am trying to think of anything that is keeping me up, but I can't really think of anything that is different than the normal and everyday problems and stresses that I always have.

I wish I could be a night owl, I really do. Nighttime is so much more mysterious and intriguing. The way that your headlights shine against the broken glass in the gutters that shines like a mirror image of the stars up above. The cool night air that finally gives a breif stay of execution from the humidity that the day always seems to bring. And for some reason, music sounds better coming from my car stereo at night. The notes seem so much more full and deep without the light of day. I even love waking up in the middle of the night when I am sure that I have written the perfect poem in my sleep, and I scour around me looking for my glasses, a pen and a piece of paper. And sometimes, whe I am too tired to get up and write something down, I fall back asleep with the contentment of figuring out how the world works, only to forget it by the dawn.

My mom always used to tell me that nothing good happens after midnight.

I never did think that was right. After midnight is when the world get simple. It is when we mortal men become immortal and invincible, only to find out too soon that the night has sold us a lie. It's when we get in trouble and find repentance in the anonimity of the darkness. Because no matter what happens at night, we know that the dawn will always break. And everything will be fine.

Yeah, I like night.

But I just wish I could find that damn commitee of sleep that Steinbeck was talking about. And I hope I dream, something grand, strange and wonderful.

Monday, July 11, 2005

For All Of Y'all That Wear Fannypacks!

Calling out to everyone up in here. Andrew Steger and I were talking a few weeks ago about forming a movie club. So check out my new website for the Letterbox Club.

And I Will Always Love You

Shaun Talbot used to give me rides to Junior Achievement meetings my sophomore year of high school. It meant a lot to me because Shaun was the coolest guy I knew. He was a senior and quite the sharpshooter on the basketball team. He was one of the few people I remember in high school that had facial hair that didn't look ratty.

Shaun would pick me up in his hooptie and the entire way to and from JA would be blasting The Bodyguard soundtrack. We would sing along, badly I might point out. We knew all the songs.

In fact, sometimes when I am really tired, I can sing the entire soundtrack.

Hard to believe that was 13 years ago.

This weekend I was flipping the channels. I came upon Bravo's TV show Being Bobby Brown. I started to watch a little bit of the show. It was very odd. I kept on thinking, wow, these people are crazy. Here is Whitney Houston and her husband Bobby Brown completely out of their minds. They are screaming at each other and Whitney is complaining about Bobby and Bobby is complaining about Whitney.

The coup de grace.

Bobby starts telling a story about have to help Whitney take a dump. Evidently he had to stick his hand, well you can leave the rest up to your imagination.

Not only did I start dry heaving on the couch, I began to think about those times back when Shaun Talbot and I were in love with Whitney Houston. She was so beautiful. She had such a great voice. She was so classy.

Now she just seems like some crazy crackhead with no class.

I mean, telling stories about extracting feces from someone else is pretty bad. No one wants to know about that. Those are the kind of stories that my friend Dr. Jason Lofton, recent winner of the Jocelyn Elders Award for Excellence, talks about when we talk about bad weeks and he says, well let me tell you what I saw this week.

But, nope here is Bobby Brown telling the entire world about scoop out Whitney's poop. And all she can do is laugh.

Bobby, Whitney, here is a little tip. Save a little bit of your dignity and keep your mouth shut.