2-1-06

It's February! Hold cow.

I got a new toy yesterday for my camera. It's an extension deal to double the length of my lens. No, it doesn't double the length of anything else. If you want that, I guess you have to get a free pack of that stuff that gives Bob the extra confidence and makes him wife all giddy.

The picture you see here was taken with it yesterday combined with a 70-200 mm lens. I was pleased.

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I changed the appearance yesterday to enhance your blogging experience.

You can thank me at anytime.

The wife and I watched The Legend of Zorro last night. Ugh. Not exactly the best movie I have ever watched.

First off, I’m getting a little burned out on watching movies where a real person (the Zorro dude) does things a person can’t do. It’s not like he’s a super hero. But Zorro soars over buildings and does jumps that would break a person’s leg.

Is he injured? Negative. Plus, he was wearing a little mask and his own kid couldn’t recognize him? I think not.

My kids would recognize me if I was wearing a hockey mask and dressed like a monk.

Watching the movie did make me wish that I was a super hero instead of plain Craigman. I do have super powers in some areas, but they are generally the ones that are not socially acceptable.

I spent at least two minutes last night trying to figure out what I would be if I was actually a super hero. I guess it would just be Craigman as Bald, Chubby Middle-Age Man just wouldn’t inspire much passion.

I would need a cool vehicle like the Batmobile, but doubt if I would ride that fast unless my wife or oldest son was driving. Instead of a skin tight outfit, mine would have to be a little baggy as nobody wants to see a super hero with rolls of chub around the midsection.

My goal would be to straighten out all the problems in the Heav town such as crankheads, littering people and illegal aliens. I can just see it now:

Me (as I approach a group of Hispanics sitting around in the front yard drinking cheap beer) “Hey, let’s see those green cards or back across the Rio Grande you go!”

They would be horrified, either by the Craigman showing up or seeing me in my super hero outfit.

Then I would watch the expected druggies, especially the crankheads. If I suspected any people of being crankheads, I would confront them as follows:

“Hey, yeah you! The skinny runt with bad teeth! It’s time for a drug test!”

My enemy would be an illegal alien who is charge of distributing drugs to little kids who steal money from the piggy bank to buy the stuff.

I haven’t thought of a name for my enemy, but will gladly accept any offerings by my loyal readers.

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In some ways, I’m glad life isn’t like playing for a team in professional sports. I’d hate to be living somewhere that I really like and actually enjoying my job and get called in by the big boss.

“You’ve been traded to Detroit for a worker to be named later,” the general manager would say.

Í would almost break down, but maintain my composure. “But I’ve busted my butt for this organization and always…”

He would interrupt me, the rude behind. “Yeah, but you’re getting old. There’s a rookie up there with a lot of promise.”

Now, if I did get paid like the players in the pros, it would lessen the pain.

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Don’t forget that Feb. 23 is your chance to watch the Craigman make a butt out of himself again as I am going to be the MC for the Chamber banquet in the old Heavtown.

Fortunately, word has not gotten out that I am the MC so ticket sales have not suffered.

Remember, I vow not to be late like I was last year!

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Enough for now. Thanks for visiting. Leave comments, questions or the meaning of life in the section below.