A.G.E's Joint

One of the downsides of police work is waiting. Chasing crooks might be one percent of the job. The rest of it is split between paperwork,meetings and waiting. Like now. Ray and Angela sat shotgun in the black Crown Vic, staring at the monument basking in the autumn sun. Something dug against her back. A quick pull on the back band of her bra made it go away. The quiet became too much. "You sure the C.I. said the Chicken?" "Yeah." Ray was glancing at his phone, a ruse to keep anybody from realizing they were working. If nothing else, the statue was unique. A bronze chicken perched atop metamorphic limestone. The blue and black veins in the marble alternated, giving the stand a hypnotic look. Poultry Park was the official name, but ot the locals it was The Tomb of the Unknown Chicken. A fitting tribute to the industry keeping the place alive. She thought the thing was stupid. The money spent on the thing could have funded a reading class for immigrants or

The creaking noise him jump, the ice machine. 3:00 AM and he couldn't sleep. Between the cops and the news of a salvage boat in Naked Lady had him completely rattled. Did the cops know more than they were letting on? More important, who knew about The Last Chance besides them? The scuttlebutt said no cops were involved, just the insurance company. It was all too much. The image flickered across the screen. Binge watching TV shopping channels wasn't the best distraction, but it passed the time. The cheap flowered top was the wrong color for the model and the pattern did nothing to hide the fluff. Sad, there was a pretty girl in there somewhere. All of this accompanied by a shrill voice warning the viewers to log in, quantities were limited. It didn't matter. None of it did. The lonely insomniacs wanted to see this and maybe buy. Or something else that didn't sell during the daytime. What else is on? Click A CNN segment on the Royal Couple . Some minutiae on

I like to hike. Let me rephrase that: I like to hike the unusual places. To find the little pockets of heaven stuck in the pits of hell. They are out there. All you have to do is look. A good example is the  South Peachtree Creek Trail . Tucked between two busy roads near Emory University, it runs in a old growth oak forest that makes you forget the world. I recently did another trail fitting this description:  Doll's Head Trail . It is located in Constitution Lakes Park, created from some abandoned industrial land in a somewhat desolate area of Southeast Atlanta. The park itself is a mix of low wetlands and fairly new growth forest tucked along 1/4 mile of railroad. The Doll's Head Loop is part of a longer trail called Rail Ridge. It is an art project begun in 2011, using discarded toys and building materials to make you stop and think. As the sign says, there is poison ivy and other nasty invasive plants here, so bushwhack at your peril. Most of the displays

Hot and steaming, the scattered and smothered hash browns were better than a mother's hug. After the visit from the cops, they needed the comfort. Sobriety and focus on the problem was needed, not obliteration. That could come after all the questions. The place was like every other Waffle House, yellow walls with checkerboard boarders and the usual riff-raff at the counter. The colors of autumn were showing on the spindly trees outside, showing the coming of winter. Dolly, the late night, kept the hot joe flowing. As the eggs and bacon slowly disappeared from the plate, the conversation rose and fell. "Do you think they know what happened to the boat?" "Funny they didn't ask." "I think so, too." Silence while the food fog swept over them. It was only interrupted by the tattooed hand mechanically filling up cups. "Dive now or wait?" "Wait." ...................................................................

Silently, Jim motioned the officers in. Jerry sat with a beer stopped halfway to his mouth, looking like he saw a ghost. Detective Williams suppressed a grin at the sight. The scene was out of all the best mystery books. They had never seen them coming. "I hope we haven't interrupted dinner." Heads slowly shook in unison. Jerry turned off the music and fetched chairs from the closet, placing them on the opposite side of the table. The detectives walked along the sides of the room, making mental notes of possible hiding places. Satisfied there were no surprises, they sat and began the process. Petite, with coal colored hair and matching eyes hidden behind thick rimmed glasses, Sgt. Angela Lopez was the image of a professional. Behind the façade, however, was a street smart woman who had seen a lot in her career. Ray Williams was the was her polar opposite. The sandy crew cut belied his military background. The rather large gut said he didn’t like to train. But ne

We interrupt your story for a vacation. Is it to Telluride ? I wish. I had lunch with a friend yesterday and she showed me a brochure for the house she just contracted for in Aurora. She moves in June. I’ve never been there. John Denver said it was a fantasy in moonlight to get high there (not that I do that anymore). And it sounds so much nicer than Buffalo. My current fantasy project is called “One Lap of America”. I take a trip around the country to all the sites I’ve been told about over the years. The original plan was thought up when I was in high school and I saw an article in the Whole Earth Catalog on converting school buses into living quarters. It was a nice day dream, but real life got in the way of the mojo . Now I have more time the dream has been rekindled. YouTube is a treasure trove of Nomad attention seekers willing to give me tips and advice. And, my wife is somewhat on board with it. We’ve done a couple of trade shows and looked at rigs that would fit. W