The Doldrums

Here we are heading towards the middle of January and another Alberta Clipper. The TV weather guys seem to be in ectasy over the approaching sub-zero temperatures. I certainly wish I could be as excited as they are . Obviously their houses must be warmer than ours, or else someone is paying their heating bills.I had the joy of crawling under the little slum house the last couple of days and placing pink, scratchy insulation under the floors of the last two rooms remaining to be insulated. The technique involves crawling on aging bellies over a century of mud , spiders, and nasty debris to the appointed areas , then turning over on your back and pushing scratchy,itchy fiberglass up into nasty spaces between joists, all the while lying with your head in mud and who knows what else. You only have a few inches between your nose and the bottom of the insulation, all the while breathing in big lung-fulls of really bad things floating in the air.The only lining at the end of the clouds is that maybe the house will be a little warmer and cheaper to heat. Rich people don't seem to have these worries. I guess the closest thing to remind me of the tight , uncomfortable quarters under the house is to descend down 30 feet or so under Lake Cumberland, looking for something someone has dropped in the water. Even on a hot sunny day in July , the water starts changing from green to brown to pitch black at only thirty feet. The only sense you have in those conditions are of blackness and cold. You settle on the bottom and feel your wetsuit sink into cold, slimy mud. The first thing you notice is that the only sound is of your breathing and the bubbles as they come out of your regulator. You start reaching out with your hands across the slimy, cold mud to try and feel for the objects you are seaching for. That's when the real fun starts. There's all manner of junk scattered on the bottom of Lake Cumberland. Sometimes you can tell right away if its a can or bottle. Sometimes you grab a handful of slimy , sticky tree branches, as they seem to reach out and catch your sleeves. The real terror of divers in darkness is becoming entangled in nylon fishing line with rusty, sharp fish hooks waiting to entangle you, which is why smart divers carry blunt tipped medical scissors to cut themselves free. Occasionally you reach out and feel something alive and wondering just who the hell you are, fumbling down there in its muddy home. Most of the creatures in Cumberland get out of your way. Once in a while you're lucky and find what you're looking for, but most of the time you don't. As you start ascending toward the top the water first starts getting lighter and then warmer. Soon you're popping your head out of the water in warm, 85 degree temperatures, your ears hissing off pressure as they acclimate themselves from being down an atmosphere. My ears sound like a tire leaking air. Nobody cares as they just want to know what I found. They always ask,"Did you see any big catfish down there?" They wouldn't understand the slimy blackness. What I'm having difficulty is finding something to watch on TV. How much HGTV can American females watch?? I am so tired of how this makes the room "POP". THe only thing that is popping is my brain. Dancing shows, singing contests, or talking heads. Do you realize they're still talking about the election?Let's move on. They had some award show on on Sunday night and the next day the web sites were full of pretty women in hideous dresses. Do they not have any tastes?? Who watches this crap??Barack had better get his little game plan going because the honeymoon will soon be over.This recession looks worse every day, and everyone on TV wants to weigh in on the problem. Look us poor boys know of what the problem is, what we want to know is what are you talking heads going to do to solve the problem. The radio said that Mr. Tim Couch himself was thinking about running for the Senate of Kentucky.Why would he even think about that?I guess he's still young but too old for football.He came out of Cleveland with several million dollars and a Playboy Bunny, so life isn't all bad.I don't know that Hyden and Leslie County will ever hold any glamor for him again. I'm having somewhat of a hard time with this Ann Coulter woman.Now supposedly she is a conservative (like me) , but she is almost scary. I keep seeing her opening those big jaws like a snake and consuming little Wolf Blitzer or maybe Katie Couric. I wonder how Katie is faring these days?I never watch her. She's got nice legs but a wild look in her eyes. When I was younger I learned that a woman with eyes like Katie's was to be avoided . We would all have run from Ann Coulter because there are just some things that men instinctively avoid. On the other hand Bald Headed Brittany would have been fun . I guarantee there are at least 2 Brittanys in every trailor park in Stanford, and I have personally had numerous painful experiences with the Gretchen Wilsons of my younger days.As I was coming down Hwy 25 this afternoon I passed the little country road where I once let an enraged racoon out that I had trapped in my backyard. THe demon was eating my little goldfish out of this nasty little pool I had constructed.I hauled his enraged little gray ass almost all the way to Livingston and turned his mean, snarling , vicious little carcass out.Turning once and hissing at he , he bounded into the woods. I noticed they had a new green sign on that dusty little road. The sign proudly proclaimed"Racoon Road". Damn . Talk about making a difference . That little mean coon sure has made an impression on Rockcastle County. Sometimes we contribute to history in spontaneous ways. I bet that mean-assed little coon really made things "POP" in Rockcastle.Take that HGTV!