11 September, 2001 was more than a day to remember--it was the end of one era and the beginning of another. 
Whether you look upon this day as a brutal slap in the face from a previously trusted guardian, or the smack upon a newborn's bottom from a midwife's hand, 
we can again never look upon the world with the same innocence and trust. Until the next time. 
This was history, Ladies and Gents, and history is not written, it is re-written -- by the survivors. 
Survivors are not always the good guys.

Three Ty Bluejays, watching me work.

A Blue Jay Festival
Hidey hole for 'James and the Blue jay'
     This web site is named for the brightly colored, annoyingly loud blue jay, and it is my immodest effort at self-promotion.  Herein are my stories,  poems, a few drawings, as well as links to a few favorite comics.
    Like the jay-bird, I hope to entertain folks with some of the baubles and bangles found along the wanderway.
    I don't ask for much from this world. Like most wanderers, I believe I'm expected to supply some of my own needs and work for the rest. 
    Some things bother me, like people who kiss up to bullies, piss on the beauty of the landscape, and whine because the world doesn't give me what they don't deserve.
    Many things please me, from the color and scent of flowers in the field to the music of frogs and katydids on the creeks along the road. The world is a beautiful place. I want to see more of it.
    I consider myself Jack of Most Trades, master of none. Mostly, I am an inarticulate person with an inconsistent knack for saying the right word at the same time I put my foot into my mouth. 
    I figure, 'What the heck. I'm not much good at anything else, I might as well tell stories.'  

In this day of world-wide contact there is little we can do to take revenge upon those who wrong us--perhaps the best thing is to embrace forgiveness, to be humble and accept the grace to get along each day, and to repay injustice with kindness, for the crap which falls upon us today may well be that which we flung at someone else the day before. 
And then,  when it isn't?
Be bold in the defense of your own  but be kind, gentle, and gracious with your understanding, as you kick the crap out of those who abuse their right to exist in our world.
Maunderings and Assorted Doggerel: Electronic Poetry Don't Know a Tree
In the interest of reader comfort, and since many folks do not enjoy wading through
the cow patties to get to the pond, I have moved my literary efforts and/or offenses to
a separate page.
Wanderway: (noun) 1. A street or path.  2. A method of discovery, utilizing Serendipity, 
Brownian Movement, and the Drunkard's Walk.  3. A philosophy of life. 

Others may choose their ordered course
  with minutes planned throughout the day
Knowing what sights will meet their gaze
  Knowing exactly what words to say
Yet in this somber surety, I pray
I care not what path others may take,
  but for me, I go the wanderway.


Comments? Roses or brickbats?  Please sign the Guest Page!

Hit Counter Visitors have graced these halls,
Since this website came to be
But I can't let that go to my head,
'Cause I think most of them was me.

Last modified: Friday, April 27, 2012
Contact: Email: 'asdf AT wanderway.com' (Where AT=@)
- James and the Bluejay