No I'm not talking about a Canadian Rock Band.
(Mind you, *anyone* that can make zillions of dollars
singing about a cigarette that dangles is A-OK in my
books)

I'm talking about how to make your life meaningful.
And no, I'm not offering the answer to the meaning of
life either. I'm holding out on that one.

I've learned, that in order to be truly happy, one needs
a good screw.

Oh come OFF it!! I didn't mean *that*!!! (sick minds).

My glasses were held together with a screw from a very
old pair of Mr Happy's glasses, it was too long and didn't
fit properly.

So I took my glasses into the glasses fixer upper place.

Holding them out....to the tall, young, good looking
glasses fixer guy....

"I need a screw, not just any screw, a good screw"
He looks at me and and says...
"Yes, it sure looks to me like you've got a screw loose
alright." fixes them, hands them back, and says
"You're screwed."
I thanked him of course.

There was a little old lady in there commenting that at
least once a month she goes in there for a screw as well.

The pursuit of happiness.

But so is the joyous occasion of school starting
again in September.

I went shopping a few weeks ago.
Shopping for school clothes is so much fun!!!
Parents have a spring in their step, a twinkle in their eye,
relief in their faces and joy in their hearts.
Pushing a cart filled with at least $500 in clothes,
but they don't care!!! Not *this* time of year!!!

Following 10 paces behind them....
faces long, eyes glazed and teary, shoulders slumped,
are their children.

2 months ago, if you'd purchased Gap jeans, they would
have been screaming with glee. Except these
particular Gap jeans that you just now put in the
cart... are now mourning clothes in their eyes.
Mourning clothes that they have to wear to school.

That place where they *have* to listen to adults, where
they actually learn something USEFUL
instead of "how Freddie Kruger sharpens his nails".

I am a 'stay home' type Dave.
On the first day of school, after they got on the bus, I sat
amongst the rubble, coffee in one hand, a piece of
bacon that i don't have to share in the other........

2 1/2 months of devastation surrounds me.

Carpets that were once plush, now worn like astro-turf.
Kitchen floors that once shone, but where Mr. Clean
is even too afraid to make an appearance.
Walls that were once a soft white that now carry
as many fingerprints as a state penitentiary.

But still, with my coffee in one hand, and now
half a piece of bacon in the other... i gaze around,
smiling... knowing i have many days in which to
disinfect, sand-blast, fumigate, or whatever else
is necessary.

Sipping from my almost empty mug, I chew the last
of my bacon, wiping the crumbs on the floor to mix in
with the grime and crud tracked in all summer from
the fields around the outside of my house.

It's actually worth cleaning. At least it will be clean for
more than 5 seconds. I'll get a good 7 or 8
hours out of this.

But the laundry is doubled. Have you ever gotten
so sick of doing laundry, that you seriously
contemplated making their dirty clothes *seem*
clean? Like.. a tshirt you JUST pulled out
of their drawer, spotless, smells great, they wear
it for two seconds and dribble breakfast on it.

Have you ever just felt like taking a marker to it...
making an arrow with the following saying written:
"Someone went to lunch, and all I got was this stupid stain"?
Admittedly, it's crossed my mind.

Just another day in paradise.

Take me home! Main Dave's Chronicles