While most religious entities consider Sunday the day of rest, It was related to me once that Saturday is the day of rest, as in the word Saturday or sitting day or the past participle of the verb to sit is Sat, hence Saturday. Yet, if the situation rears its fugdugly head each week, I’m roped into doing something other than rest. Its either moving my stuff once again, or batteling some extreme crisis of a member of the Knyte and/or the WolfPack, or going towing. On going towing, don’t mind doing that since when I’m going towing its putting green in my jeans. I want one dang weekend, where I can climb in the Lady and take a carefree casual easy flyte to the coast, have dinner in Bev, Hills and come home. Nope its Colonel do this, Colonel do that. Bullsbreath, I’m getting old, tired and more grumpy each second of every day. This Idaho thing hasn’t been the solution I had planned on, I’m beginning to think, along the lines that Southwestern Idaho has become a bitter taste in my mouth. I hated it in 1971 when Mom and Dad moved up here, and I’m disliking it even more now. The state or at least the western half, has become to snobbish, too stuck up, and way too expensive. It’s hard to tell the difference between Sun Valley’s economy or high rental prices and the rest of the state’s ridiculous rental rates. The blundering KTVB 7 in Boise did a thing not too long ago about how it takes a person working 4 jobs, just to afford a basic 1 bedroom apartment in Boise or that immediate area. $2,500.00 a month was the lowest I could find doing a search two years ago, when I was thinking of moving up there near Chaundra. While Salt Lake City and immediate area isn’t much lower, there is that hidden secret of Utah. It’s called Evanston Wyoming, Low rent, yet within an hour or less you can be flying off of Hinckley Field. Or taxiing off the tarmac at Salt Lake International. Either way, aviation is hot there. Which, if the roundee rounds of American Falls does not prove Gold, its head back to Evanston. Might even happen that way first. See if I can unravel this mess. As far as my mini truck and all, going to see if I can get Kathleen and Steve to store it all out at their place, then in a few months rent a U-Haul and mini trailer and come get it all, once I’m settled back in Evanston. Face it, Any more , I have no family to speak of in western Idaho. The dream of ever reclaiming the house near Hazzard(Hagerman) is gone, and outside of maybe 10 members of both the Knytes or the WolfPack, still in this area, besides Kathleen and her family and Charlie at A1, there ain’t squat of anybody that gives a crap if I’d die or worse. Remember Nurse GoodBody. I figure we’re still friends, but I have yet to get a call or a blurb from her saying , lets go have coffee. Sure she did the ultimate toew smooch, but since those days she’s kept her distance. All the time I was in Evanston, she’d call or text saying she missed me and all, but since I’ve been here near 3 years now, she ain’t bothered to say go take a poop or anything. The Magic of this so called Magic Valley at least for me is kaput. Might be time to close the door, and say it was nice, but try to make an exit, and still save face and my reputation. Me being here is like forcing a square post into a round hole. Yes you can dig around it and make it fit , but why? I want to get back to that $12k a day money that the radio gig made in both Utah and Wyoming, I want to be snagging bucks flying and dropping that $800.00 per in flyte hour rate in my pocket. I want to go see concerts, the Sundance Festival, I want to pick that extra change for walk on and background film gigs. $100.00 a day ain’t bad. What am I doing? Living in a flop house piece of crap motel room that they call an apartment, and one by one seeing my entire world crumble. Any mile , early and a long day today. See ya’ll around 16:00 or so, right here.