Hey all! I know it’s been a long time since you’ve heard from me, so I thought I’d give a quick update to let you know I’m still alive.

Although I haven’t been working on Monkbot…I have been busy…working on me.

As you can see, I’ve chopped off a good bit of my hair…which was a very liberating thing. (Thanks to my friend Tammy for giving me such a great new cut!)

I had gotten so stressed about how thin my hair was getting that the only alternative was to cut it all off. The good part of this is that Locks of Love will be getting an 11-inch pony tail from me (my third…and, sadly, my last). Growing it out and donating it was great, but having hair that reached halfway down my back became a stringy, tangly mess…and drove me up the wall!

Before

After

But the 11 inches of hair isn’t the only thing I’ve lost recently. I’ve been working for about a year to lose weight.

So far, I’m up to 60 pounds gone (well, 59.5). Woo Hoo!!! Here’s a picture of me (left) from 2006 (weighing WAY more than I’m willing to post) and a picture of me from a couple of weeks ago (weighing 54 pounds less). Man, did I look like a stuffed turkey or what back in 2006?!

Little by little, I’ve been able to pull out old clothes and start wearing them again. Here I am in a size 22 pair of jeans that I haven’t worn in years and years (I started out wearing a 28). They are still too tight to wear out of the house (I can’t sit very comfortably in them), but in about another 10 or 15 pounds, that shouldn’t be a problem. (Don’t laugh too hard at my kerchief…I had just finished mowing the lawn…something I haven’t EVER been able to do because I was too out of shape…but now I can mow the front and back yards in under an hour…YEAH!!!!)

I still have a long journey ahead of me as far as weight loss, but I really feel I’m in this for the long haul. Thanks to my sweet friend Bamaborntxbred, I found a phenomenal website that has helped me tremendously with the process…plus, it’s ENTIRELY FREE!! The site is SparkPeople.com. I really recommend anyone looking into it if they want to get healthy (not just lose weight…but really get healthy). I’ve been blogging there off and on since March. Y’all are welcome to check out my page.

And of course a Monkbot post wouldn’t be complete without an update on my Sadie Mae

She’s doing great and keeping me company. We walk more often now (thanks to the weight loss), and we wrestle and play with a lot more energy and pep. She’s really a great dog and I’m so glad I have her.

I never did sell my house, but, hopefully, I’m going to try again later this year. The economy and housing market have been so bad that selling hasn’t been at the top of my priority list. We’ll see what happens.

So, I guess that’s about all. I really think about posting but just don’t ever get around to it. The weight-loss journey has kept me pretty occupied and I’ve found some peace in my life for the first time in a long time. I do miss writing, though. Hmmm…who knows? Maybe I’ll try to post more. I don’t know. I like not being obligated to anything but my goals right now.

I do hope to give an update on Traveling Monkbot soon. He is back in the South and soon to be back in Mississippi. I hope to get him back before the end of summer and wrap that project up. It will be nice to have him home again.

Okay, I guess that’s all for now. This was a pretty low-key update, but that’s all I got. Take care.

Until next time…

If ever there was a time for me to come out of my blog-tirement and put up a new post…this is it.

I have this neighbor (Mike)…who lives about 12 houses down from me…and he’s quite the character.

Mike is in his early 60s…but I’m guessing from the second-skin death metal t-shirts, pointy-toed cowboy boots, rebel trucker’s cap, and fake fur black toupee he wears…he wants folks to think he’s more like in his late 50s.

But what really makes Mike…well…Mike…is…he “collects” things.

Things like the medieval swords crossed over the knight’s battle shield he has hanging on the front of his house. Things like the dried up triple-decker cement yard fountain topped with what I’m hoping is a fake skull. Things like macramé hangings on his porch and little lawn statues.

Mike used to work with me years ago at a state agency. He worked in the print shop and I, being in communications, worked with him closely. So closely, in fact, that I learned he’s never met a flea market or yard sale he didn’t shop. So closely that I learned he’s never had his own flea market or yard sale…so everything he’s taken into his house…is still there (including one of my grandmother’s old mirrors I sold to him at a garage sale a few years ago).

I actually went into Mike’s house once…about four years ago. My neighborhood had flooded and I went down to check to see if he was alright. I had heard his house got a couple of inches in it and I thought I could help him clean up.

When he let me in the door, I absolutely could NOT close my eyes as what only can be described as a fantasia of crap beckoned the attention of my gaze from every crevice of his living room. You couldn’t even walk from the front door to the sofa unless you followed the path created by the walls of stuff. It was truly an incredible sight to behold.

Fortunately, he said he wouldn’t need my help. I don’t remember his reason why. With my mind still reeling at what was obviously the tip of the collectible iceberg…I pictured the rooms that lay beyond the one in which I stood and breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn’t have to sift through what I imagined to be decades of wet troll dolls, fake parakeets, and probably a kazillion issues of Penthouse and Playboy from the 60s and 70s.

I know I sound like I’m exaggerating, but, I promise you…Mike has literally years of junk that not only lines the walls, floors, and tabletops inside his house, but teams from his front door and vomits into his yard an array of doo-dads and trinkets and knick-knacks that never should have been made, sold, bought, or displayed in the first place.

But Mike loves the stuff he’s bought. And he loves to display it. He even rotates his chotzkes in his yard, replacing a garden gnome with a plucky ceramic owl one week or topping his fake boulder with a fake animal the next.

His most recent displays have centered around his car. He has taken to taping a picture of Nosferatu’s face (or maybe it’s Phil Stacey’s) to the steering wheel of his blue sedan, so that it looks like the old vampire is about to toot the horn for Mike to come out and go joy-riding to the Sonic for a footlong and some tots. I might think he was doing this in honor of the upcoming All Hallow’s Eve…except for the fact that ol’ Nos-tu has been behind the wheel, on and off, since August.

But stranger still than Nosferatu is the pouty doll Mike has begun leaning against his front bumper (pictured atop this post).

Now, pouty dolls in general are a phenomenom that I’ve never understood, appreciated, or, truly, tolerated. I find them creepy times a zillion…fake children made to look like they are either sad, spoiled, or sullen and used as decoration around the home…huh?

But Mike has made great use of his pouty doll. It usually laments on Mike’s front bumper…like it’s upset that Nos-tu and Mike are going for tots without it…but it has also found some good sulking spots on the plastic chairs in front of Mike’s ever-closed garage door (behind which will never be found a car…but more of Mike’s “collection”)…and I believe one day I saw it fake sobbing on the fake boulder.

I decided this morning, as I was driving into work, to roll down the passenger window and snap a picture of the forlorn little guy. He was looking all desperate and hopeless pressed up against the right headlight of Mike’s car…and…just for a moment…I took pleasure in the little doll’s never-ending unhappiness.

It was kind of nice to know that there was something out there in the world that was bigger on self-pity than myself.

Poor thing. If I lived at Mike’s…I’d cry to.

And then I remembered that this ridiculousness was taking place a mere 12 houses down from mine…and the self-pity returned.

So I rolled up the window, rolled my eyes, and pledged to let it all hang out at Monkbot.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the tale.

And Shelley quietly slips back into the void…

These two things, apparently, aren’t connected in Shelley’s head.

Soooo…a few of you want an update on moi, huh?

Are you sure? Are you really, really, really sure?

Cause things haven’t been pretty.

Let me start with Sadie.

About a month ago, I came home from work and walked in the carport door as usual. My sweet little angel puppy…who usually runs to greet me every afternoon and jumps up and wags her tail…came hobbling in on three legs with blood covering a wounded front left leg.

“Sadie, what have you done!?” My mind started racing, thinking my nervous ninny dog (who has recently taken to the habit of gnawing at her herself) had gnawed her leg into ground beef. I knelt down to look at her leg but she wouldn’t let me near the wound. So, I headed to the bedroom to find where the injury took place.

I entered my room and saw blood on the floor and on the top quilt (which I leave on the bed just for her…to keep my nice bedding clean). I walked around the bed and there was a huge blood stain. Sadie, meanwhile, was limping around behind me…despite me trying to get her to lay down and stay still.

I walked back to the dining room and, on the way there, saw the culprit…a broken pane of glass on my front door. Blood was spattered up the back of the door and the glass had fur stuck to it.

Sadie has a habit of jumping at the door whenever she hears a noise outside…apparently on this day…she jumped too hard. I went outside to the front porch to find that she had shot glass all the way across the carport.

It was a mess…but all I wanted to do was get a good look at my poor puppy’s leg. I went back to the bedroom and Sadie jumped on the bed to lay down. I got my camera and layed down beside her…thinking I could take pictures from far away and zoom in on the injury. It was pretty gross…she had torn away the skin and exposed the tendon in her leg. (The picture below is pretty graphic…so steady yourselves to look.)

Well…to make a long story short….I saw that the injury was clean and wasn’t bleeding anymore. I called my vet at home and he advised that I wait until the morning to bring her in…which I did. He gave her 12 stitches on the big gash and five more on the little one. Plus, I had to give her antibiotics for about a week.

But I don’t want anyone to worry…our sweet Sadie has healed nicely. You can’t even see the scars…I wish I could say the same for the front door, which is still taped up with a manilla envelope covering the break.

I will be getting the door fixed this week though. I called Lonnie, my repairman. Lonnie and I have gotten pretty close in the last two months…as he’s had to come to my house a couple of times for another little problem…mold.

Just after I put my house on the market I found a wicked mold problem in my kitchen cabinets. It covered four cabinets and affected the casing above the cabinets. It all stemmed from a combination of one VERY hot Mississippi summer, a leaking air-conditioner, and me keeping the temperature of my house in the 60s when I went to bed every night.

It looked a little like this…

Yummy, huh?

Lonnie and his roof guy came over twice and tried to fix the problem…but to no avail. It was hard to determine what exactly was causing the moisture build up.

Ends up, I had my dad come up for a weekend and do some repairs around the house. He worked his magic…and told me to quit trying to chill meat in my house at night.

After having to throw away a blender, a George Foreman grill, a rotisserie, and about $50 worth of food…I got the mold cleaned up. Insurance actually covered the cost of repairs, which was good because, since my dad did a lot of the work, I was able to use the insurance money on fixing other things around the house (like the leaky toilet in my guest bath and lighting) to make things nicer in my effort to sell this albatross.

About the selling of my house…it’s going very… very….. very…… very……… slowly.

In the almost four months I’ve had it on the market, I’ve only had three people come look at it. The housing market in Jackson is flooded right now. Almost every street in almost neighborhood, it seems, has at least one house for sale.

I know God is teaching me patience…and I’m trying my best to learn.

But I have to admit…patience and perseverance have been really tough to muster this week especially since I spent all day yesterday…cleaning up raw sewage…inside my home.

Sunday night I walked into my master bath to get ready for bed and saw…um, how can I say this delicately…piles of watery doo-doo…all over the floor.

My first thought was Sadie had gotten sick…but then I realized what had happened…my toilet had backed-up and overflowed. I squished through the bathroom to look in the tub…let’s just say it was quite a sight to behold.

I left that bathroom and walked to the front bathroom…there was sewage in the tub and toilet in there, too…though thankfully not on the floor (thanks to Dad fixing the wax seal in that toilet on his visit).

I had a lot of cleaning to do…but I couldn’t even flush the toilets or use the tubs because if I did…more sewage would enter the house. All I could do for the night was ring out my bath mats…wash my hands…leave my shoes by the bathroom door…put in an e-request to Roto-Rooter for an 8 a.m. service call…and go to bed.

It was a long night and I dreamed that roaches filled my house and were feeding on anything covered in feces…which meant, in the the dream, that there was a roach on every inch of my home.

I woke the next morning exhausted and with a tension headache…I could barely pivot my head on my neck…but I got up and took a deep breath…I knew it would be a long day.

The first things I did was to call Roto-Rooter to see when they would be able to come and then I called my credit union to get money to pay for the plumbing and clean up.

Roto-Rooter came about 9:30 a.m. and pumped out the line so that I could flush toilets, clean, and do laundry. They also told me that I couldn’t wait any longer and that I would have to get the main line from my house to the city sewer lines replaced…which would cost $3,300 plus tax (this is for a “trenchless” line repair…so the yard won’t be torn up…something I feel I need to do because I’m trying to sell the house and don’t want to ruin it’s curb appeal).

Since I hadn’t heard from the credit union, I had to use the last of the insurance money from the mold (which I was saving to pay for fixing the broken front door) to pay the plumber.

I didn’t want to start cleaning because I knew I would have to go the credit union when they called with the money…and I needed to buy cleaning supplies…including a steamer for the carpet (as it had gotten sewage water in it).

I waited patiently…practicing a crocheted hat pattern I’m going to use to make presents for my nieces this Christmas (here’s the one I finished earlier in the weekend…pre-poop).

Finally the credit union called and said I had a check for $400 waiting for me. I drove there (not having showered since Saturday), got the check, deposited it ($200 I’ll use to fix my front door), went to Wal-Mart to buy cleaning supplies and a carpet cleaner, then came home, ate a little lunch (before digging into the nasty work), and began cleaning around 1:30 p.m.

I cleaned for three hours straight…just one bathroom.

Wearing a mask so I could stomach the smell, I had to get on my knees with a scrub brush and SCRUB the floor twice…then mop it. I had to SCRUB the tub and toilet…then wipe everything down with Lysol.

It was stinky and nasty and I swear I will leave my house and never come back before I EVER do that again.

But it’s done…and I got more money from the credit union today to cover the cost of the replacing the main line. Roto-Rooter is scheduled for Thursday to make the repairs.

And…after all that…despite being able to take care of my dog…have my house crumble around me and me not crumble with it…having to get on my hands and knees to scrub poop off my floors…you’d think I could say without reservation that I’m a confident woman who can overcome any obstacle…right?

Well…almost.

Ultimately, I’m still a dork who has a problem censoring her big mouth.

I went to work today without make-up, as I was wiped out from yesterday’s activities. I had to go to the credit union at lunch to get the final check for the sewage line replacement. The credit union is located in an agency I used to work at…an agency where the last guy I had a crush on works (I mean a real guy…not Taylor Hicks).

Anyway, I thought I’d rush in and out without being seen…but, of course, despite being in a building of 300 people…who should be-bop into the lobby while I’m on my way to the credit union…THE guy…Ray (think…John Belushi in “Animal House”…adorable teddy bear of a guy).

He comes up and gives me a hug and starts to chit chat.

And I, Shelley Powers…the woman who can face a mountain of crapola head on with a bucket in one hand and a scrub brush in the other…the woman who didn’t throw up when her dog’s leg resembled the butcher’s counter at the Kroger…the woman who has faced flooded bathrooms and flooded housing markets…I became a simpering little girl…and all it took was a smile from a cute boy.

And without taking time to check my mouth for the same problem as my plumbing…I spouted out one of those things women think…but know better than to say aloud.

“Ray, if I’d known I would be seeing you, I would have put on some lipstick.”

What a moron.

Luckily…I pick good guys to crush on…because Ray…without missing a beat (and being the lovable bear that he is) smiled and said, “And, Shelley, if I had known I would be seeing you…I would have put on lipstick.”

And then I laughed…which felt good…because it’s been a long three months.

—-

Helloooo! Anyone here? I’m blowing the dust off the blog to give an update on the Traveling Monkbot Project. Below is a write-up from Jan (of Soul Patrol Relief fame) who showed Monkbot some fun in Austin this summer. As some of you may remember, our little cymbal-clashing wanderer was in Austin once before…where he first met Taylor Hicks, thanks to Quossum. On his return visit, Jan made sure he met up with some other fine musicians. Read on…

Monkbot in Austin
By Jan Capps

Austin, TX, is the live music capitol of the world. Our motto is “Keep Austin Weird,” which people take pretty seriously around these parts. So, when I took Monkbot around Austin nobody seemed in the least bit surprised.

The first place I took Monkbot in Austin was Antone’s to see an acoustic Drive By Truckers show on their The Dirt Underneath tour. The smoke machine (yeah, like they used to use in dance clubs in the 80s) made all my pictures of the show suck. The flash reflected off the smoke so I didn’t get any decent shots of the Drive By Truckers. I did get a great t-shirt which you will see as my tale unfolds.

The song the tour was named after – Bulldozers and Dirt

The Drive By Truckers performing live at Antone’s

Antone’s is the “home of the blues” in Austin. Clifford Antone did so much to bring great blues to this town. He passed away a bit over a year ago and we are still in mourning. Check out the DVD, “Antone’s Home of the Blues” to learn about his contribution to the music scene in Austin. You can rent it from Netflix.

Our next outing was to see George Clinton and the Parliament Funkadelic at Stubb’s BBQ which is another great historic venue. They have have great BBQ and great music. I carried Monkbot in a backpack and smuggled my camera in since cameras weren’t allowed. They were searching people so I was really lucky to get get some pictures of the show.

The last two shows that I saw at Stubb’s were sold out so I made my friends get there when the doors opened so that we could be close to the stage. Turns out that people didn’t show up until hours later so we just stood at the stage in the fairly empty venue like dorks until the rest of the crowd showed up. We had a good time hanging out and eating BBQ while we waited though so it was all good.

The show was great! Parliament came out and jammed for about 30 minutes before George Clinton joined them. They played for at least three hours. I can’t believe that I actually saw the Godfather of Soul and the Father of Funk in the same venue.

If you have never seen Parliament, I highly recommend that you do so. George Clinton likes to get the audience to chant stuff like, “If you ain’t gonna get it on, take your dead ass home” and “Free your mind and your ass will follow.” Those are pretty clean but I can’t say that about the rest of the chants. He can be downright raunchy so don’t take any children to see George Clinton or Parliament. There is something surreal about seeing a grown man performing in a diaper, another wearing a crown, and Sir Nose dirty dancing all while gettng your funk on.

Jan and Monkbot at Stubb’s

George Clinton and the Parliament Funkadelic

George Clinton and the Parliament Funkadelic – Atomic Dog

Strangely enough, they had a bring Monkbot to work day while Monkbot was visiting. What are the odds? Here is a picture of Monkbot checking out the latest video phones from Cisco Systems which is where I work.

Monkbot Checks Out New Cisco VoIP Phones
Also, I took Monkbot on a tour of our lab.

Monkbot Tours the Lab

My friend Melanie had her 40th birthday at a roller rink and Monkbot was there. I forgot how much fun it is to roller skate. We just took over the rink on a Saturday night. Everytime we went by the DJ booth, we screamed out a request for Blondie! Blondie Rules! Play Blondie!! It’s been many years since we had all roller skated so we were falling all over the place.

MB and Jan rollerskating

My family came for a visit to see my new house. We took Monkbot hiking on the Greenbelt and swimming in Barton Springs (MB declined to swim). It had been raining so much in Austin and the river was flowing much more than normal. There were about 50 people there on a Friday afternoon. There was a guy playing a bongo which was really cool.

Monkbot At Barton Springs

Our last grand adventure of the trip was climbing at Reimer’s Fishing Ranch with the family. We woke up to dark grey clouds that would have discouraged most people. We decided that we were going to the climbing area no matter how ominous the sky looked. We were optimistic and that optimism paid off. We all bouldered in the cave as we hiked in.

Monkbot At Entrance To The Sex Cave at Reimer’s Fishing Ranch
We hiked to a wall with lots of beginner routes on it since I had the kids with me. Turns out that my nephew had outgrown his harness so I let my niece climb one route and then we went down to the river. I found a nice boulder with a great view and decided to let Monkbot give climbing a shot. It was pretty difficult with cymbals for hands so he decided to just check out the view and rappel.

Monkbot on boulder

Monkbot chillin’ on the rock

Monkbot on rappel

Hanging out with Monkbot in Austin was so much fun! I can’t wait until the next time.

Honesty.

What a concept, huh?

A year ago I decided to try a little honesty experiment. I decided to write a blog.

Although I had been in the throws of a mad crush on Taylor Hicks and was deeply rooted in the world of GrayCharles.com…my blog was simply going to be for and about little ol’ me. If Taylor or Gray entered the picture…so be it…but the focus would be me and my interests.

And it was going to be as honest as I could make it.

I wanted to voice my opinion…even if it came across a bit callous. I wanted to curse if I felt like it…even if my mother was reading. I wanted to share events in my life with brutal honesty…even if I embarrassed myself. I wanted to call out the wrong-doing of others…even if I got in trouble for it.

I wanted to be totally honest.

But the problem was…I started with a half-truth.

Sure, I wanted to hone my writing skills and see if I could develop my voice. But even more so, I wanted people to read my words…and to praise me…and to return for more…and to bring their friends…and to think I was the cat’s meow.

I wanted to be a Blog Prom Queen.

And for a while, I really felt like a queen. I was praised and lauded and it felt good.

But the funny thing is about the best of plans…

Now, a year later, I don’t focus on how much my writing has improved…nor do I crave praise or adulation. If anything, I see where I have more improvements to make in my writing and…though the compliments have been lovely…I’m more than satiated by the silent numbers that tick over on the hit counter…especially when I see that 200 plus of those daily hits are return visitors.

And even beyond wrangling my ego somewhat over the last year, I’ve learned some valuable lessons from this experience.

I’ve learned that being responsible is more important that brutal honesty. If you were to go back to earlier posts and comments, you would see that I was much looser with my tongue. I felt that being honest meant being free to curse or snark harshly. I felt it made my writing wittier and would draw more people to the blog. But I soon realized that a foul mouth and ugly remarks set a tone for negativity at the site and for other Monkbots. And truth be told, once I started biting my tongue a bit and writing more insightful posts…that’s when the number of regular readers began to grow…slowly…but steadily.

Building on that lesson, I’ve learned that people…all kinds of people…crave to see goodness in the world. Even if that goodness is something as simple as the day-to-day happenings of a silly girl from Mississippi who grows tomatoes and shops at the Kroger and has a sweet little puppy dog named Sadie.

To see that people from almost every state in the U.S. visit Monkbot is enough to make my heart swell with joy. But then to see people from all over the world come here to visit magnifies that joy even more. I routinely see folks from the Phillipines, Israel, South America, Canada, Ireland, Scotland, Germany, Australia, and the U.K. visiting Monkbot…and I’m humbled.

And seeing all these wonderful people…the comment-makers and the lurkers, alike…has taught me an even greater lesson. There is not a monopoly on this planet by any person or country on the desire for unity.

This gives me such hope and joy and reassurance about all of us who live on this blue and green marble.

Finally, watching and being a part of the microcosm that is the blog world has baffled and amazed me. I will definitely miss so much about it.

There have been so many wonderful people I’ve met along this journey…too many to list, really. But to all who have graced the halls of Monkbot, I thank you. Thank you for opening your hearts and minds. Thank you for putting up with my moodiness and grousing. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and time. Thank you for reading my words, listening to my songs, watching my silly videos. Thank you for caring. Thank you.

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t give some special thanks to a handful of folks who gave me counsel and love and guidance and strength on a personal level this past year.

Bamaborntxbred – Truly, “Monkbot” wouldn’t exist without you, my sweet friend. Your silliness and smarts are fierce and wonderful.

Nolagirl – Your candidness and caring are such gifts. When I grow up, I wanna be like you.

Patrickadiddlehopper – You inspire me to be my best. I love you, kiddo.

Bentendo – Thanks for the logo and for believing in me, little brother.

Suzi-Q – Your hair is so silky like a scarf…oh, and you’re the best Mom in the world. Period.

Dr. Bob – You were so often my voice of reason and wisdom. I have such respect for you.

Rowan - I’ve never told you this but, since I’m all about the honesty…your writing amazes me and I’m humbled that you chose my site to be a part of.

Staci – How you didn’t go insane listening to me whine every day…I’ll never know. Oh…and if I had to choose the best Grammar Nazi in the world…it’d be you. You’d make Jane proud.

Ivoryhut – So intelligent and giving and humble and beautiful. I’m so proud to call you friend.

Double D – Humorous, analytical, brilliant…and you look so dang great in person. Shoot. Blow. Holster.

Shrewspeaks – Pass the wine, it’s Shrewbie time! You always knew just what to serve when I needed advice or insight.

Claire, Squeebee, Baby Duck, Texan, Wompuss, Leejolem, Jan – Each of you has made this place all the better because you shared a bit of yourself.

Quossum – What can I say, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal? We’ve talked each other off more ledges than I can count. You’re such a dynamo (and James ain’t too shabby either).

And finally, Gray Charles – I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t admit you were my biggest inspiration…or that you provided the bulk of my readership pool. It took a while, but this young Padawan did manage to learn some important lessons at your feet:

• Be cryptic with a purpose.
• Be aloof for self-preservation.
• Be protective of all your hard work.
• Nothing happens unless you beat yourself bloody to make it happen.
• Sometimes you gotta let go.
• You’re not always going to understand the masses, so don’t make yourself crazy trying.
• Always strive to learn and improve.
• Find the greatness within yourself…then reach beyond it.

And to everyone I didn’t mention…please know you all are so very important to me. This last year has been one I’ll never forget…and I have all of you to thank for it.

But it’s not like I’m retiring and moving to some remote island in the Caymans. I may post here down the road…and probably will. But for now, I want you all to know that this is just the right time for me to kick back and un-commit myself from this part of my life for a while.

Now, I need to take all that I’ve learned and honed and improved upon and mix it with the experiences I’ve had and the people I’ve met to create something else. My hope is that that “something else” would be a published work of some kind…but I’m not going to place the burden of such a commitment on my shoulders…especially since I’m trying to lighten my load right now. So, who knows what’s next for me…or for any of us, really?

I do ask one thing of all of y’all, though, as I leave the daily grind of Monkbot…I ask that y’all remember the community here…and the Manifesto…

I only ask require that you are considerate of others and that you put heart and thought into what you want to say. This blog Life is designed to stimulate conversations…not just comments. Discussions are a vital part of Monkbot Talk humanity. We don’t always have to agree…just as long as we respect one another.

Keep the Monkbot spirit alive around the Internets, your home, your office, your world. Be nice…be thoughtful…be clever and funny…but mostly…just be yourself. That’s how I like you best.

Viva le Monkbot!

Thanks to all for the kind words.

Remember…I may be fading away…but I’ll always be around.

Take today to discuss what you want…Taylor Hicks, music, books, television, the Internets, whatever…however the “keep it clean” rule, the “be nice” rule, and the “no thudding” rule are still intact.

Otherwise…have fun.

My Dear Little Monkbots,

Monkbot Talk will be closing its doors on Friday, June 22, with my last post.

That day marks the one-year anniversary of this little blog and I feel it’s time to move on.

Monkbot has run its course.

I’ll write more about the closing on Friday, but I wanted to give everyone an early heads up so that good-byes could be said or information exchanged for folks who want to stay in touch.

After Friday, all comments will be closed, but the site will remain indefinitely for viewing and reference.

Traveling Monkbot is still making his rounds and, as of right now, I plan to see that project through ’til the end. So, there will be posts with comments open for that as he continues his journey (in other words…don’t delete your RSS feed just yet).

And, I can’t promise that I, personally, will never write a post at Monkbot again. I just currently have no plans to do so.

It’s been a good run and I think I’m ending strong…with lots of faithful readers and with a community of caring and intelligent people. No blogger could ask for more.

Written in 1997 about a homeless man in Biloxi, Mississippi, who strongly favored Charlton Heston.

Narrated version

Charlton

Coming up the road is a man I call Charlton,
walking as he does with that funny kind of gait.
Rigidly he shuffles, kicking though his soles.
Not walking like he’s early. Not walking like he’s late.
He wears the same clothes, but he’s always clean-shaven.
a torn blue sweater reveals a shoulder that’s laden
with an uncertain future and pains of the past.
Why from society was this lonely man cast?
A lifetime of dirt is the second skin
that covers this man with the stick-like step.
A funny man, he waits at the bus stop and then
walks away to some place
leaning into his pace
with random hurry,
as if loved ones are worried.
But no one cares.
In the wake of his walk
curious glances surmount
on faces of strangers
who try to recount
tales of his life
pieced with speculative things.
Some say he’s a drunk,
some say a king.
Once was I told that his real name is Bill.
He drove a cab and then lost his will
to carry on.
But to me he’ll always be Charlton-
A sad, funny man
walking nowhere fast,
wearing out shoes
and lost in the mass
of other souls
searching for peace.
The souls of you.
The soul of me.

–Shelley Powers, September 1997

Okay…here’s the game.

In my hand I hold five cheesy studs. I’m going to call and see if anyone can top them.

To beat my hand…your studs have to be cheesier…and have, at some point in modern pop culture history (since the 70s) been considered a “stud.”

Everyone will chime in to vote on who gives the cheesiest hand as the game goes along. A stud card can be stolen no more than three times…so READ ALL THE COMMENTS BEFORE SHOWING YOUR HAND. Hands dealt with studs who have already been bet three times will have to fold.

Also, no hand can have more than one stolen stud…or you’ll have to fold.

Only bet five studs at a time. And you must allow at least four other players to take part before you bet again!

All studs mentioned must be hotlinked to a picture or video (see Mad Monkbot HTML Skillz page for refresher on hotlinking). If you don’t link to pictures…you must forfeit your hand.

Do NOT link to nudie or offensive pictures or videos or I will stop the game immediately.

If you steal a cheesy stud for your hand…your photo or video MUST be cheesier than the hand you stole it from!

One last rule…if you don’t want to play and instead want to share some tidbit about something totally not related to the game…kindly don’t. There are plenty of other boards to talk about all different kinds of things. If you really must chat about something unrelated…use the stinkin’ chat feature!

Takes a deep breath, smooths ruffled feathers, and smiles sweetly once more…

Now…for some fun.

Fridays are usually pretty slow around here…so I’m really not expecting this to work great…but we won’t know if we don’t try. Here goes.

I call…

One Scott Baio

One Leif Garrett

One David Cassidy

One Ryan Seacrest

and One Fabio

Who can beat that?

P.S. There is one wild card that I won’t name, but if someone uses it…they will win the Official Prize of the Day.