Have you met Gus?

I've been putting off blogging. Why? Because I feel I have nothing worth saying.
Is that true? Or do I feel that other people feel I have nothing worth saying? Nevertheless, I let fear and insecurities get the best of me.
I emailed Gus and advised him that I can't think of a damn thing to say! Nothing clever or interesting. Not a flipping word. I think I need a writing flush. It's like when pips rust and sit there for a long long time; if you do get the pipe running, a bunch of crap is going to come out before anything good does.
Perhaps that is what this blog is. It's the crap. I'm crapping all over you.
Back to that email. So, I emailed Gus and requested he just give me a bunch of random words and topics to discuss and I'll just keep writing and writing until something good comes out. Wishful thinking, I know.
Let's talk about sheep.

In my email, I also told Gus that I would be sending a gift to him for his birthday.
Ok, before I can talk about sheep, I should probably explain about Gus.
Gus is in his 50s; not an old 50s, but quite a young 50s. He hikes and bikes, he reads and writes (not like a child can "read and write", I mean that he reads a lot and writes stories and blogs, etc), and appreciates a good drink and even better food. Gus is anything but materialistic. I think if he could have his way he would live on a nice chunk of land out in the country, growing his own food and meat as organically as possible, tinkering in an old wood shop, writing on a deck he built, overlooking a river with his hand-made canoe tied to the dock, while sipping a brew and contemplating if he should start making his own beer. Of course, he would live close enough to society to go socialize, people watch, and make conversation with any person having a worthwhile personality or rack.
Gus hates "the man". His political views are quite left, bordering on radical, however he still has too much common sense, decency, and a love of the simple, to ever become radical radical. Unless there was a revolution. I'd like to think Gus and I could handle a revolution. That's for a different blog.
Now that you have a tiny understanding of Gus, I can continue my story.
From my description, you can probably gather that Gus is a Whole Foods kind of guy. He's the guy that shops at the Mom and Pop store and wouldn't be caught dead in a Wal-Mart.
And the eyes roll. I saw it from some of you. You're wondering "Does he wear Birkenstocks and have clothes made out of hemp?" You know what? I don't know enough to say yes or no on that.
Anyway.
I ordered a gift for Gus, and as it has not arrived yet, I can't tell you what it is. I can tell you that I ordered it from Wal-Mart! I think he'll like the gift. I closed my last e-mail to him  with this line

Best of luck to you with everything. Any birthday plans?
I have a gift coming to you. Just a little something. Nothing big. I ordered it from Wal-Mart because I know the shame you will feel by the whole neighborhood seeing a Wal-Mart Box on your doorstep. What will all your hippie friends says then, you SHEEP!! Bwaaahahahaha!

Hugs!

Sometimes I like to tease him when I feel his soap box getting a bit tall. I agree with almost everything he says, but I also cave a bit easier under the pressure of a busy life. I mean, Come on Hippies! We all can't afford to stuff our hemp stockings with organic cheeses AND buy diapers and college textbooks.
Just some playful jabbing. I like to tease him about being one of those pretentious people. It's quite fun to exaggerate his opinions and views and then call him out on it, but in reality I respect it all and I'm a bit envious.
I had taken my 2 1/2 year old son, Eli, over to Gus' place. After about an hour my son says "Wheres da TV?"
 I said "Honey, they don't have a TV"
This didn't make sense to Eli one bit. He looked over and said "No TV at all?"

After we left, I imagined in my head what Gus and his other half must've been thinking. There they were, sitting in their TVless livingroom, filled with books on shelves, rather DVDs stacked upon gaming systems.
Gus would be sitting in a chair peering over a book at his wife and comment "Did you see that Emma's son is already a slave to that (smug tone) Idiot Box?"
"Oh, I know" she would agree from the kitchen.
"You know her parents are republicans, right?"
"Well, obviously." She would say as she brought him a plate of organic fruits, nuts, berries, and cheeses. "Now, let's finish lunch and prepare for the Black Friday shopping at Wal-Mart tomorrow."
Then there would be a brief shocked silence as they both stared at one another, than each threw their heads back laughing.
"Haha, Indeed. Black Friday at Wal-Mart" Gus would laugh, " And then maybe we can go pay our taxes"
Then they would both erupt into uncontrollable laughter.

Gus had an idea that I could start writing about our unique relationship. I think I may do that. Where do I start? Is our unique relationship also a bit to fragile to handle such in depth analysis? I feel like going down this road while change the tone of my blog.
I also don't have time to go into such things. Right now by red headed son is throwing a tantrum because I will not allow him to watch any more TV. He found a mirror and is now practicing his tantrums into the mirror. I think I should be expecting quite the rehearsed protest for nap time.  Awesome.

Fare the well, Kittens. Until we meet again.