The Beach Chair Blues...

and how to avoid them. 

I wonder, (remember I wander and wonder) if there will ever come a time when I wake up, stretch, scratch a few private places and go sit on a beach chair. That'll be my day. So far, I've been dodging this less than grueling lifestyle.

How do you do it Jeff? Good question.

I owe it all to a pot of coffee each and every morning. 

In the Aloha State, I've been drinking Kona and Columbian brews (Good Stuff). For me it acts like a liquid defibrillator. After downing a gallon, I have to go out and do something. That energy has to be directed somewhere. So I might as well hike to pretty places like this.

Poor Eddie might have drank too much of my brew. He OD'ed. 

I don't condone the use of legal drugs for everyone, but it sure works for me. Time and time again.

Now it's time for an IPA,
Speaking of book sales and IPA's, I sold one Kindle edition of "Destroying Demons on the Diagonal" today. That will buy me one/third of locally made "Throwaway or Big Swill" IPA. Their real names are Castaway and Big Swell. The Hawaiians are more adapt at making java than hoppy beer.

Good night

PS. Those Wisconsin cows (see my shirt) provide the Half & Half for my coffee. God Bless them.