This town's like the one . . .

. . . sang about in 'The Green Green Grass of Home'

This photo of Gingerbread House is courtesy of TripAdvisor

All the perfect picket fences
And gingerbread cottages in a row
Brightly colored walls on every house
And if figure on the lawn
Peace and calm
I found where I belong
Til the murder in our Avalon

You could hear the children laugh and play
All their games on any day
Pretty Moms and Handsome Daddies
Would walk hand-in-hand down the street
Any summer night
You could never find another place
Where your life would be so good
I considered this my jackpot won
Til the murder in our Avalon

Now and air of uneasiness
Pervades everything
I can't seem to get any rest anymore
Might have been a heaven on earth
A place we could be
Safe from all the rest of the world and humanity
There was no stranger
No homicide
You killed our love
It was clearly a job from the inside

Now the trees are greener than before
But a chill is in the air
People go about their business
And everyone acts like I'm not even there
I've been told it's time to move along
And that life continues on
I've described your heinous crime in song
It was murder in our Avalon

AVALON
© 1997 Raymond M. Jozwiak




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It's a new experience. . .

 . . . a new sensation.  It's a feeling I never, or at least rarely, even considered.   I'm not talking about mushrooms or any type of ingestible substance.  I'm talking about saying goodbye to two of your children who are driving ACROSS THE COUNTRY!!

You prepare for it, both by packing and psyching yourself into acceptance.  But when the day of departure finally arrives, you find that you're never prepared quite enough.  


Very strange sensation, to say the least.  (As I write, they may be in Ohio.)

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Top Stories

Nothing. . .

. . . is easy.

The late comedian Morey Amsterdam used to say that nothing is impossible, except getting toothpaste back into the tube and getting off a mailing list. I don’t know about getting off of a mailing list, but my wife proved to me that it is NOT impossible to get toothpaste back into the tube. Way back before we were married, when I first heard Morey’s line, I used it quite frequently in conversation. My wife ‘to-be’ said that she thought that the back-end of the toothpaste tube could be opened, and the toothpaste could be returned to the tube using a spoon or a table knife, then re-sealed. She actually tested her hypothesis with successful results. The ‘guinea pig’ tube of replaced toothpaste was caste in plastic for the ages and made into a paperweight, which she still has to this day, many years later I might add. Of course the mailing list is a different animal that has now evolved into a cyber-being. I’ve had mixed results with attempting to disengage myself from these things, so I guess it’s not really impossible, just difficult, and certainly not consistent.

But no matter where you stand on these crucial issues of the day, in the end I think we can all agree that nothing is easy. At least most things aren’t. Most certainly those substantial ones, like raising children, working full-time, buying a house, getting a job (for many these days), having a civil discussion on your political views with one of the other ‘camp’, maintaining calm while driving on the highway, reconciling your spirituality with the world, maintaining a happy marriage, dying and marketing your music on the internet . . . ARE ALL ANYTHING BUT EASY!





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