He probably doesn’t report ANY earnings to the IRS… which makes him a model of non-violent resistance to THE MAN, in the civil disobedience tradition of MLK, Jr.

I’m sure he’s very honest regarding promises he makes… if he says he’s gonna kill you, he probably will.

Anyway, what business of the government’s is it what money anyone makes, or what people put in their bodies? Haven’t they ever heard of the right to privacy?

The very idea. Shades of Orwell.

The best thing would be for the government to nationalize the oil companies. That’s what every other advanced nation seems to be doing. That way, instead of one guy who gets $400,000,000, we could have 4,000 guys running the company who each get $100,000. That would reduce the gap between rich and poor, and shared decision making is always better. The notion that anyone should make a profit off the oil needs of others is obscene, anyway.

Lucy could be the mascot of the new national oil company. She could be sergeant at arms for meetings of the 4,000 executives. She could identify places where drilling should take place by marking the spot. You know: number one means drill here (and she’s helped by killing innocent vegetation that was in the way), and number two means don’t drill here (and she’s helped by providing fertilizer for the garden that’s going here).

I’ll bet that crack dealer would straighten up and fly right if Lucy growled at him. I know I would.

Shoot… he probably has a dog. Two.

Lucy is an excellent judge of character. (She’s very advanced.) Tonight while hanging in the living room, she didn’t bark at the pizza guy bringing dinner, but she did bark when the funky crack-dealer guy walked past our door to his place further down. Did I mention she’s very advanced?

I wonder if dogs can bark in Chinese?

OK… true confessions. I had a dog named Phreddi. He looked like a blend of Benji and Boomer, which is to say, a stuffed animal. He weighed maybe 15 pounds, soaking wet… which he was fairly often. He used to attack grass sprinkler systems at APU, after he felt attacked by one… he assumed they were all out to get him. He could catch a ball on the rebound off a wall, thown as hard as I can, while twisting in the air. He used to go to all my classes with me… and was very friendly to all until a mean music major harassed him (as I recall, that particular music major is now a truck driver…. or will be again when he gets out of jail) … after which all students learned to leave Phreddi alone. He literally went just about everywhere with me for most of his life. He would wiggle his ears when I played a student exercise in class that had parallel fifths in it. (I know, I know…. maybe he was responding to some unconcsious cue I was giving him… but you should have seen students react.)

I made the mistake of letting my ex babysit him…. with whom he was very familiar, having lived with her a few years. She couldn’t figure out how to keep him in her back yard…. which is to say, he ran away from her…. for which I can’t blame him. He was 14 at the time, and showed no signs of ill health or slowing down. I could never find him, though I checked every animal shelter/pound/hit dog report in the area. NEVER give your dog to your ex for the weekend.

I will always cherish the day Phreddi growled and snapped at a former Dean of the School of Music.

What dog?

We’re actually beginning vocal tracking today! I have decided to humble myself before the blog and start posting work in progress songs so everyone can hear the process, and also make mean comments.

I know I have been a little distant… just an insane three weeks… easter right into Agape Singers mini tour into a full weekend of tracking. Nutz. You know it’s a stressful week when you’re looking forward to your planned break, which involves seeing a movie about 9/11.

Where have you been? Are you guys okay?

Well, good, I didn’t really think you guys were the banishing types. And the balcony would be a rotten place for banishment, anyway. Hey, who wouldn’t want to hang out there? That’s where I always picture you guys. [sigh] I have to smoke on the landing of our fire escape stairs. Which is nowhere near our apartment. Wonder if they’d let me put a plant out there.

Yes, Ramon has had it a bit rough lately, but remember that this is what he likes to do. But he’s definitely in need of a break. Why, last night we were lounging on the couch and pretending that we were comfortable enough to just sleep there for the night, which began a session of fake-snoring and giggling on both our parts. It was weird – he never giggles. Except when he’s high.

Phil…dude, you have GOT to get a little optimism in your life.

Cerise…no, she’s not banished anywhere. She hangs out with us on the balcony, but she kicks it inside when we’re not. She DOES have a kennel, where she sleeps at night and when we’re out of the house, mostly for the sake of the kitties.

BTW…yesterday was Accident Free Day. We had a party, and we’re hoping for a repeat celebration tonight.

“Lucky Suarez” definitely should have been in contention as it is a fantastic name!