I Did It My Way

This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle.  How is it that some days seem longer than others, when supposedly there are the same hours in a day?  Well.  Yesterday.  Is.  Arrested.

I’ve lived a life that’s full
I’ve traveled each and every highway
But more, much more than this
I did it my way

If you have ever driven though a city called Los Angeles, you don’t want to.  You really don’t want to.  Yet, we had to.  And we were stuck for hours, and more hours, and many more hours after that.  It seemed like we would never get out of it.  And we started to wonder if we should just walk back to that Florida place at this point.  It would have been much faster.


As all good Sheriffs do, I tried my best to keep the peace and keep the calm going in the RV.  Boy Person’s back hurt after about five hours.  Girl Person’s Anxiety Monster starting jumping out of the closets and drawers and from under the dirty dog hair couch.  Deputy Digby Pancake wanted a snack from the stewardess, aka Girl Person, every few minutes, and well, this was proving to be a very long day.  And night.

I planned each charted course
Each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way

When you are as good looking as I am, it is sometimes overwhelming, because you feel like you missed your calling.  Here I am, with so much handsome, and I am stuck in this RV with not enough people to admire me all day.  And then, as we drove thru LA, I realized it.  I needed to be seen.  I could be a star!  This was the land of movie stars! So I threw down my Sheriff badge, and thought that as long as we were stuck in this traffic, I was going to BE a star.  I was going to do it my way.

Girl Person said that there was no way she would ever live there with that traffic and all those people, and I thought, well, that is because you are not a star.  As a movie star, I wouldn’t even have to drive, I would be driven everywhere.  And as a movie star, I would get as many peanut butter cookies as I wanted every day, and bottled water and gourmet meals.  And then.  It dawned on me.  Hey.  I DO get all of that!  There.  Mystery solved.  I. Am. A. Star. I. Knew. It.

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall
And did it my way

Girl Person said that to her, I was a star from the day that I was born, even though she didn’t even know me then.  She said that a star doesn’t have to live in a certain place like Los Angeles with a lot of traffic, fancy houses and fancy cars.  She said that a star can live in the smallest house and have the simplest life.  She said real stars make the world brighter, just by them being in it.  And she said that I am definitely her star.  And Deputy Digby too.

To think I did all that
And may I say – not in a shy way
Oh no, oh no, not me
I did it my way

But Girl Person says that when you are a star, it comes with responsibility.  And for me, being a Sheriff is only the first responsibility.  Being handsome is the second, but that actually comes with the first, because it is a package deal.  If we are to be stars, we have to shine where we can shine the brightest!  We can all make a difference for someone else and light their path.  For me, I made a difference just by people being able to stare at me in traffic.  You. Are. Welcome.

So wherever you can shine bright today, shine.  Even if you aren’t having the most perfect day, and you are stuck somewhere like we were stuck in LA yesterday, you can still find a way to shine.  Be bright.  Do it your way.  Because my way is taken.

For what is a man, what has he got
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way
Yes, it was my way

-Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle

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The Tale Of Digby And The Fickle Flapjack

This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle. Have you ever found yourself somewhere and wondered how in the world that you got there?  Yeah.  We felt like that yesterday.  We thought that we were in California, but then we found ourselves in a Danish town called Solvang.


And the first place that Digby found?  You guessed it.  A pancake house.

IMG_9859.JPGAs Deputy, it takes a lot of pancakes to keep him going and happy.  And yet, there are never enough.  If you are a pancake anywhere in the same state as Digby, you are not safe.  And as Sheriff, it is my duty to keep everyone safe, even in Solvang.  Especially a fickle flapjack in Solvang, California.  Yes.  A fickle flapjack.

How did we find a fickle flapjack?  You see, in the town of Solvang, the way people talk to each other is in fairy tales. There are many tales to tell, and many things that you may not find in other places because they live in a fairy tale.  Like that fickle flapjack.  Apparently, a gentleman by the name of Hans Christian Andersen has a museum here.  You might recognize some of his work like the Ugly Duckling, The Princess and the Pea and maybe even The Little Mermaid. He loved fairy tales.  And Solvang loves Hans Christian Andersen.


If you live here in Solvang, and you are a flapjack, and a Digby Pancake comes to visit your town, you tell all of the other flapjacks, and if you are 2 Traveling Dogs, you find yourself in at the middle of a fairy tale too.


Thus begins The Tale Of Digby And The Fickle Flapjack

2 dogs traveled far and wide in search of a good meal.  As they happened upon a town of windmills and pancake houses, it appeared to them that their stomachs were about to be satisfied with as many plates of danish pancakes as they wanted.


They had thought of a good meal for many hours, two in fact. And they were famished.  They were law enforcement dogs, and they needed to keep up their appetites. But as they ordered from the menu, they realized that in fact a pancake house had only pancakes. You see, one of the dogs were not as keen on pancakes as the other, and as he gazed upon his plate of pancakes, which were the only thing that he could order, he began to wonder.  Could these pancakes have feelings?  Did they deserve to be eaten? Did he have the right to tell his Deputy that his empty belly might not be as important as a flapjack’s feelings and right to live in a town of windmills?


He was a Sheriff.  Wasn’t it his duty to protect flapjacks when they needed to be protected?  He had taken an oath in fact.

So as this Sheriff looked at his pancakes, he forgot that the Deputy had received his plate too, and as he gazed up, he saw that the Deputy’s flapjacks were already gone.  It was too late.  But he could still save his plate of pancakes.  But as he began to explain to Digby that the flapjacks on his plate were not to be eaten that day, because they were visiting a town of fairy tales, the Deputy had already ate three out of four.  And the Sheriff was mad.  The Sheriff was very mad.  He yanked his one flapjack from the table and told Deputy Digby that this flapjack was not to be eaten.  He told Deputy Digby that this flapjack was now going to travel with them.

But what the Sheriff did not know was that this particular flapjack was a fickle one.  He had lived a life of crime in this town for many years.  It was his habit to steal.  This was a fickle flapjack.  And now that he was protected by a Sheriff, he found that his life of crime was very easy to continue.  Every day, he would break into the town’s houses and steal butter to slather all over himself.  But then, he would break into another house and steal syrup to slather all over himself.  He was very fickle. As Sheriff Brickle kept receiving reports of break-ins, he looked at their new traveling companion and saw that he in fact had much butter and much syrup all over himself.  And he got mad for saving him and protecting him.  He now had to protect the town from this fickle flapjack and locked him up. The town felt safe again and people were no longer blaming the flapjacks on their plate at the pancake house for their missing butter and syrup. The Sheriff had saved the town from this fickle flapjack.

But as he went to go check on him one day in jail, he noticed that the fickle flapjack was gone.  He had escaped.  He called the Deputy who rushed in with butter.  And gasp.  Maple syrup on his mouth.   And he had not went to the pancake house that day.  And the Sheriff asked the Deputy where their inmate was and all the Deputy could say was that justice had been served.  And it was delicious.

Thus, the tale of the fickle flapjack was to be told in Solvang for many years. They didn’t even tell the story of the The Princess and the Pea any longer.

And they would, from that day only, only tell The Tale Of Digby Pancake and the Fickle Flapjack.  There is never a choice between butter and syrup.  You have to choose both.  The flapjack should have known that, and for the rest of flapjacks in Solvang, they tell this tale to their little silver dollar pancakes to remind them not to be fickle.  Like the fickle flapjack.  And that is why you find so many danishes now here.  Because.  That’s why.

-The End

-Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle

P.S.  We are back on the road today!  We are headed to somewhere called Temecula, California.  Are you coming with us?  We have no room for fickle flapjacks.