Don't abuse the instrument.

An unpolitical take on Labor Day

 I'm trying to stay up 'til midnight on this Labor Day Eve, when the ball falls on this holiest of holidays, Labor Day, when we celebrate the money changers.

I always loved watching Dick Clark do the countdown.

(Rooster crows in the background)

I'm a little tired from being up so late, but up and at 'em to head to the cemetery to watch them put all the beautiful fresh flowers on the tombstones. You know, damn near everybody in here worked themselves to death, and were proud of it.

I hear some of them were so good and worked so much their boss owned a jet AND a few public officials.

It's not political.

Jets are expensive.

I also miss the comedy of Martin Mull.

 He really should do a short set for prosperity, if he is able.   One more time with the living room set up and the band.  Or tour with Steve Martin and Martin Short.   It's a lot of Martin's.  There is something good in there.

For the occasional person who has a large social media presence, money &/or influence, who reads my account....

 Keep this your little secret.  The blog, I mean. 

If you like it, keep the audience small. 

I know it sounds odd.  

I've actually had to say the words aloud, so I know what it sounds like.

It's just not meant to be successful. 

Just occasionally funny, weird, boring, adventurous, weird again, sentimental, scary, loving, unintelligible, and sometimes informative.   Life like. 

I'm not a certified professional anything. 

I'm proud of that. 

 Grandma always said we were Dutch.

Joe Frank.

 Looking at the world today, I have to ask "What would Joe Frank do about this situation"?

Tomorrow...

 I'm starting to learn Dutch. 

And at least listening to some of The Brothers Karamazov. 

And ancient bricklaying techniques. 

That's the ticket.