It's cooler in the basement so I've been down there making a path to the breaker box and sortin' through the collective memories of me and BG and her b'friend the Eagle scout. I don't touch his stuff much, except to move it outta my way and pitch empty boxes into the fire pile. A man's history is sacred ground. He'll sort through it when the Spirit moves...or I do.

There is so much history down there written on the concrete walls and wooden steps. The old horse trader's signature is painted boldly and dated in black...W.W.Council, 1961. His name is surrounded by dozens of chalk written truths. Addie was here! Kate loves Jonathan :) Lauren rocks ^j^ There have been a bazillion kids around here over the years and each has left his or her mark on my soul. They all know that it's a safe place to land. You can't defend it if you don't own it , though. I'm fresh out out of cash and SugarDaddy hasn't shown up to save the day. I'll ride it until the karma runs out because I'm faithful like that.

Had I been braver or more adventurous I would have struck out to work on contract somewhere for fifty bucks an hour and lived in a company apartment for a few hours between my grueling twelve hour shifts. Instead, I stayed home and enjoyed the view both at home and at work. I can get from here to there in ten minutes when there's no traffic. That ain't bad for a morning commute, especially when there's good folk to spend the day with.

Yep..I'm nekkid again. Gonna sleep that way too.