Well, I'm scheduled to leave on my trip tomorrow. With my best buddy, and maybe Chewy, too. To Arkansas. For fun, relaxation, adventure and hanging out. And maybe meeting UFO's. But, no van, it appears. My hopes and dreams once again vanquished. I should have learned by now! Now both of my vans and my Avion are being held hostage, for lack of a better term, in Lansing, it seems. And, I still have attained no strength in my legs to walk or stand or move around by myself, as the small welding job on my exercise bench is still not fixed as promised. What excuse this time? It's been over a year, now, since I was last able to use it. What else is new. The only good I am to almost anyone other than Mike and Janis (who work their butts off day and night and still take time to work more for my benefit) and my good buddy Nick - is the hope, perhaps, that I will hurry up and die and leave them everything I own. Hmmm. Well, I'll fool every one of them. Being of sound mind and all my faculties (such as they are.) I, of course, have some things for my family I love. All else I have and will have will go to those bums, hobos, tramps and thieves that have been here in my life for one reason or another. They may be the only ones I can count on. I know what they are and what they do and what they will do, at least. I already know their motives, maybe none of which are good. They take and I give. Until I can give no more. I expect nothing substantial in return from them, and get nothing in return but perhaps a "thanks," which is fine with me. Then, to a few others I give or loan everything I can. Money, loans, gifts, love, my time, my vehicles, even my beloved trailer, and whatever when they are in need for whatever reason. And, in return I get "thanks," which is just fine, too, and promises and promises and promises and excuses and excuses... Oh, well. I guess by now it is obvious that I am pissed at being pissed on. I'd rather be pissed off. So, the recipients of this letter are hearing from the really bad side of this old bad-ass, useless-to-all, crippled and near blind fool of a former man. Tough luck, Jack. Maybe, it's just "Tough love." Note that this is sent bcc to you and all who will get it. You know if you are a "it may concern," or a "it doesn't." I like to share my "unreasonable side of me." There is no fool like an old fool. So, take this with a few "grains of salt." Or, in my case, "Nu-Salt." Not as an "In-Sult."

Jack-on-his-ass-in-Atchison-Kansass