Was it 50 years ago I passed my driving test on the second try? Now I was an adult. The first time I took it I smacked into a couple of cones parallel parking. I had gone to a driving school and paid good money to ace the test. My instruction was surprised I failed. I wasn't. I knew those cones hated me.
When I finally passed a couple of weeks later it was a relief. But I knew I had no intention of doing serious driving for many years. Once a week I took out my dad's car for a ten minute drive around the neighborhood.
If I had close friends back then driving would have been more important to me. But I was a reader and a writer first and foremost.
Now I drive all over except on highways. I drive defensively like an old man because I'm an old man, sliding into senility. But I can stop on a dime.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
The Guy
The guy limps into the diner with his cane None of us know why he was like this. Theories are out there. Accident, stroke, Vietnam.
His speech is seriously damaged. Words and short phrases, no complete sentences. He first orders an apple turnover, then decides on a full meal,which he then decides he will take home after it was placed in a dish. The waitress takes it back and he orders a strawberry shortcake and coffee, neither of which he barely touches. He announces he has to leave after 20 minutes.
One of us helps him by carrying the takeout bag. He leaves without paying. Returns a half hour later informing us he realizes this while driving in the next town. He cannot find his receipt. We stop our discussion to look for it. The same woman who helped him before goes to the cashier to get a duplicate while he stands there helplessly. He finally pays and leaves with difficulty.
Question: how did this guy get a driver's license?
His speech is seriously damaged. Words and short phrases, no complete sentences. He first orders an apple turnover, then decides on a full meal,which he then decides he will take home after it was placed in a dish. The waitress takes it back and he orders a strawberry shortcake and coffee, neither of which he barely touches. He announces he has to leave after 20 minutes.
One of us helps him by carrying the takeout bag. He leaves without paying. Returns a half hour later informing us he realizes this while driving in the next town. He cannot find his receipt. We stop our discussion to look for it. The same woman who helped him before goes to the cashier to get a duplicate while he stands there helplessly. He finally pays and leaves with difficulty.
Question: how did this guy get a driver's license?
Paswords
I have all my passwords listed on a single page in a notebook I hid somewhere. I have a masturbation pw, an omelet pw, a tub scrubbing pw, a nap pw, a take out the garbage pw, an unnecessary argument pw, etc.
Privacy is my priority. If someone hacks into my masturbation pw all sorts of problems develop. Suppose someone uses my pw to masturbate using egg salad. It gets recorded in the cloud and the password police come down on me. They may rescind my privileges, which means I have to wait three months before applying again. Three months without pleasuring myself.
I've kept my writing pw up to date, so I can write this blog. Lucky you. Otherwise I'd have to dictate this and my dictating pw is long and complicated and easy to mess up, so I have to start over. Without touching myself.
Privacy is my priority. If someone hacks into my masturbation pw all sorts of problems develop. Suppose someone uses my pw to masturbate using egg salad. It gets recorded in the cloud and the password police come down on me. They may rescind my privileges, which means I have to wait three months before applying again. Three months without pleasuring myself.
I've kept my writing pw up to date, so I can write this blog. Lucky you. Otherwise I'd have to dictate this and my dictating pw is long and complicated and easy to mess up, so I have to start over. Without touching myself.
Monday, May 25, 2015
First Jobs
I was a child who retreated into my imagination and created imaginary friends who never invited me to their imaginary parties.
I finally felt like a grown up when I got my first two jobs. At 16 I became an usher at a local theater. I got a jacket, bow tie and my own locker. I stood in the back with my flashlight and did basically nothing for sixty cents an hour. I got to watch Peter O'Toole in Lord Jim about 20 times. I'd take the bus home feeling so adult.
My second job was helping the milkman, which consisted of getting up at 330am and walking to his house where I chopped ice and tossed it in cartons of milk and juice. I didn't rattle bottles or break any. I was quick and quiet in the truck and on the street. I learned a valuable skill--chopping ice. At daybreak I was on my way home and back to bed.
Eventually people got their milk at supermarkets and milkmen vanished. I don't know what happened to Tony, my boss. Maybe he returned to school and learned a new skill. Maybe he wound up being an usher at a high end theater. Don't overlook the prestige of wielding a flashlight.
I finally felt like a grown up when I got my first two jobs. At 16 I became an usher at a local theater. I got a jacket, bow tie and my own locker. I stood in the back with my flashlight and did basically nothing for sixty cents an hour. I got to watch Peter O'Toole in Lord Jim about 20 times. I'd take the bus home feeling so adult.
My second job was helping the milkman, which consisted of getting up at 330am and walking to his house where I chopped ice and tossed it in cartons of milk and juice. I didn't rattle bottles or break any. I was quick and quiet in the truck and on the street. I learned a valuable skill--chopping ice. At daybreak I was on my way home and back to bed.
Eventually people got their milk at supermarkets and milkmen vanished. I don't know what happened to Tony, my boss. Maybe he returned to school and learned a new skill. Maybe he wound up being an usher at a high end theater. Don't overlook the prestige of wielding a flashlight.
Primal Urge
Some people have a primal urge to hug. Side, front, back, skin to skin, hot and sweaty, heavy breathing hugs. My primal urge is to flee when I see a hug coming.
The only ones I will hug are supermodels. Ever since my collections of stories were published, supermodels have been pursuing me. If one recognizes me in public, she squeals and rushes toward me. They can't move fast in those heels, but I'm patient.
When you hug a supermodel be gentle or they will snap right in your arms. They smell of avocado, which they use on their skin. Sometimes they will fondle my buttocks. If you could write like me I'm sure these ladies would seek you out, but you can't, so forget it.
Some reach down and rub the top of my head, which I barely tolerate.
Some speak only Russian, which makes me wonder how they can read my books.
The only ones I will hug are supermodels. Ever since my collections of stories were published, supermodels have been pursuing me. If one recognizes me in public, she squeals and rushes toward me. They can't move fast in those heels, but I'm patient.
When you hug a supermodel be gentle or they will snap right in your arms. They smell of avocado, which they use on their skin. Sometimes they will fondle my buttocks. If you could write like me I'm sure these ladies would seek you out, but you can't, so forget it.
Some reach down and rub the top of my head, which I barely tolerate.
Some speak only Russian, which makes me wonder how they can read my books.
Latecomer
Some walk in slowly and deliberately, making an entrance. I, on the other hand, prefer rushing in and taking a seat before anyone realizes I'm late.
There are so many good reasons for being late. Recently I went to Shoprite and ordered a scrambled egg and Taylor ham on a roll at the food court. It is my preferred breakfast and normally takes less than five minutes. This time the lady behind the counter seemed to prioritize other customers, some of whom worked there. I was seated nearby reading a paper I had every intention of paying for. Eventually.
I knew by 930am I would be late for my writers meeting. I was going to stamp my foot and leave in a huff, but the last time I did that I sprained my knee. So I waited, got my breakfast and arrived late.
As luck would have it, it was beneficial because had I arrived on time I would have witnessed a fierce confrontation between two women who can't stand each other.
Writers without breakfast can get pretty grumpy.
There are so many good reasons for being late. Recently I went to Shoprite and ordered a scrambled egg and Taylor ham on a roll at the food court. It is my preferred breakfast and normally takes less than five minutes. This time the lady behind the counter seemed to prioritize other customers, some of whom worked there. I was seated nearby reading a paper I had every intention of paying for. Eventually.
I knew by 930am I would be late for my writers meeting. I was going to stamp my foot and leave in a huff, but the last time I did that I sprained my knee. So I waited, got my breakfast and arrived late.
As luck would have it, it was beneficial because had I arrived on time I would have witnessed a fierce confrontation between two women who can't stand each other.
Writers without breakfast can get pretty grumpy.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Pirate Camp
Dear Mom and Dad,
I love it here at pirate camp. I know you wanted to make me more masculine so the others wouldn't pick on me at school. There are lots of rough boys here who fascinate me.
I got my ears pierced! I chose these fabulous ruby earrings which matched my violet stretch pants and you know how I adore stretch pants. I'm right this second wearing a flouncy white silk shirt with big shoulders and ruffles and only two buttons so my chest will show. Errol Flynn! Did I mention the gold necklaces we wear with doubloons hanging there?
Sword fighting is so butch I love it. The camp counselors are all gorgeous, with their brown boy scout uniforms. They say I throw my dagger like a girl. Well that smarts.
I used my allowance to pick up these exquisite mid calf suede boots that make my thighs look thinner. I topped off my look with a lovely purple bandana. Hug me to death!
I made three kids walk the plank right into the pool.I practiced shouting AAARRRGGH! for hours. My voice got deep and raspy like Stallone.
Next week we get to tie kids to the mast.Maybe I'll be the one who gets tied up!
This is the bestest time ever ! Awesome sauce!.
Your loving son,
Lawrence
I love it here at pirate camp. I know you wanted to make me more masculine so the others wouldn't pick on me at school. There are lots of rough boys here who fascinate me.
I got my ears pierced! I chose these fabulous ruby earrings which matched my violet stretch pants and you know how I adore stretch pants. I'm right this second wearing a flouncy white silk shirt with big shoulders and ruffles and only two buttons so my chest will show. Errol Flynn! Did I mention the gold necklaces we wear with doubloons hanging there?
Sword fighting is so butch I love it. The camp counselors are all gorgeous, with their brown boy scout uniforms. They say I throw my dagger like a girl. Well that smarts.
I used my allowance to pick up these exquisite mid calf suede boots that make my thighs look thinner. I topped off my look with a lovely purple bandana. Hug me to death!
I made three kids walk the plank right into the pool.I practiced shouting AAARRRGGH! for hours. My voice got deep and raspy like Stallone.
Next week we get to tie kids to the mast.Maybe I'll be the one who gets tied up!
This is the bestest time ever ! Awesome sauce!.
Your loving son,
Lawrence
One Arm
Reggie hardly missed his missing arm. People assumed a shark had bitten it off, but, actually he fell asleep on it, cutting off all circulation. So it had to come off.
He gravitated toward shark training because he admired them. Eat, swim and defecate is all they did. But after ten years of this, stricter guidelines pushed by animal rights activists drove him out of the business.
For months he floated around lacking purpose. He needed a challenge.
One day while walking past a music store he saw something in the window that lit his imagination. He knew immediately where his future lay.
Reggie became the world's most proficient one armed xylophone player.
He gravitated toward shark training because he admired them. Eat, swim and defecate is all they did. But after ten years of this, stricter guidelines pushed by animal rights activists drove him out of the business.
For months he floated around lacking purpose. He needed a challenge.
One day while walking past a music store he saw something in the window that lit his imagination. He knew immediately where his future lay.
Reggie became the world's most proficient one armed xylophone player.
Monday, May 18, 2015
Bowling with Streisand
Talk about pressure. Try being on Barbra Streisand's bowling team. We bowl at a local lane every Tuesday night. Me, Randy Quaid, Paulie Shore, and Rosie Perez. Rosie and Barbra hate each other. Constant bickering, which impacts my concentration.
There can be no more pressure than being in the tenth frame in a tight match, standing there trying to focus while the songstress is sitting behind you snarling things like 'Don't screw this up, or you're walking home.'
She has a 208 average--Streisand is a great bowler, but very competitive, a perfectionist. The problem is she expects the rest of us to bowl up to her standards. More than once, her dictatorial leadership has left one or more of us in tears.
God help you if you roll a gutter ball.
There can be no more pressure than being in the tenth frame in a tight match, standing there trying to focus while the songstress is sitting behind you snarling things like 'Don't screw this up, or you're walking home.'
She has a 208 average--Streisand is a great bowler, but very competitive, a perfectionist. The problem is she expects the rest of us to bowl up to her standards. More than once, her dictatorial leadership has left one or more of us in tears.
God help you if you roll a gutter ball.
Saturday, May 9, 2015
First Kiss
I got my first kiss at camp. Liz and I had gotten separated from the other campers. As night fell, it got chilly. We have to make a fire, she said. Words that struck terror in a city boy. I found two sticks and kept rubbing until my hands bled. No success. I was near tears. She grabbed my shoulders and kissed me on the lips. I love you anyway, she whispered.
Moments later we were rescued.
Later that month I returned to my job at Lehman Brothers. Hedge Fund Camp changed my life. I was a late starter and that kiss opened up new worlds.
Liz married the guy who saved us. She is now CEO of an International Cork Manufacturing Company.
I became a really good kisser.
Moments later we were rescued.
Later that month I returned to my job at Lehman Brothers. Hedge Fund Camp changed my life. I was a late starter and that kiss opened up new worlds.
Liz married the guy who saved us. She is now CEO of an International Cork Manufacturing Company.
I became a really good kisser.
Angry Barber
Get in here, Joseph.
Adolpho grabbed my shirt and dragged me inside. I was four minutes late and he was a stickler for punctuality.
He threw the sheet on me and tightened it around my neck with a flourish. Took the shaver and began cutting my hair, mumbling curses. After a minute, he growled, alright, what have you got?
This part made me lose sleep. I had to make small talk that interested him. I had failed miserably every other time.
Yanks won yesterday.
Not interested.
Ruth Rendall died. Great mystery writer.
Don't read.
Massive fires out west.
Could care less.
Underwent an operation for penile enhancement.
Hmmm. Tell me more.
Actually I made that up.
You are pathetic, Joseph.
You have high small talk standards, Adolpho.
Your trivia puts me to sleep. My next customer never shuts up. Always has great stories.
I have stories.
Let's hear them.
I can do accents and dialects.
Liar.
You're right. And there's nothing wrong with my penis.
Adolpho grabbed my shirt and dragged me inside. I was four minutes late and he was a stickler for punctuality.
He threw the sheet on me and tightened it around my neck with a flourish. Took the shaver and began cutting my hair, mumbling curses. After a minute, he growled, alright, what have you got?
This part made me lose sleep. I had to make small talk that interested him. I had failed miserably every other time.
Yanks won yesterday.
Not interested.
Ruth Rendall died. Great mystery writer.
Don't read.
Massive fires out west.
Could care less.
Underwent an operation for penile enhancement.
Hmmm. Tell me more.
Actually I made that up.
You are pathetic, Joseph.
You have high small talk standards, Adolpho.
Your trivia puts me to sleep. My next customer never shuts up. Always has great stories.
I have stories.
Let's hear them.
I can do accents and dialects.
Liar.
You're right. And there's nothing wrong with my penis.
Mother's Day
I think I have the mom gene. If someone curses, first I slap them, then comes the hug.
Also, I enjoy wishing people. If I see a spec of dirt on someone's neck, I grab a washcloth and rub away.
My mom taught me to hang curtains. Soon I was good enough to hang drapes. That was the last new thing I learned.
I would ring neighbors' bells and ask if I could hang their drapes. The police were very polite, explaining the drape ordinance I was violating.
I could never fool mom for the same reason I can't fool anyone. My strict policy of honesty at all times. Except when I fool people into buying my book.s I need coffee money.
Happy Mother's Day.
Also, I enjoy wishing people. If I see a spec of dirt on someone's neck, I grab a washcloth and rub away.
My mom taught me to hang curtains. Soon I was good enough to hang drapes. That was the last new thing I learned.
I would ring neighbors' bells and ask if I could hang their drapes. The police were very polite, explaining the drape ordinance I was violating.
I could never fool mom for the same reason I can't fool anyone. My strict policy of honesty at all times. Except when I fool people into buying my book.s I need coffee money.
Happy Mother's Day.
The Clown
This clown needs to get laid. Look at his eyes. Anger, angst, aggravation, aggression, alienation. All the A words apply.
If I hated my kid I'd hire this clown for his birthday party. That sledge hammer in his hand is incidental. It may as well be a chainsaw, Garrot, machete. This clown wants revenge on a cruel world, even the score.
I know women who would date this clown. They like the bad boys. They like it rough. They like men with big feet.
Therapy will not help this poor guy.
If I hated my kid I'd hire this clown for his birthday party. That sledge hammer in his hand is incidental. It may as well be a chainsaw, Garrot, machete. This clown wants revenge on a cruel world, even the score.
I know women who would date this clown. They like the bad boys. They like it rough. They like men with big feet.
Therapy will not help this poor guy.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Stretching, essay
Look at this wood floor. Wood is good. Here I go stretching and twisting and bending. All healthy, all good. Except Sarah #1 stretching next to me.
Her flowered dress is making me dizzy. I want to bury myself in the calm of Angela's blue top. I want to feel safe in my emotional crib.
Martin and Jim stretching do nothing for my sensibilities. Two middle aged guys with no balance. If they keel over, let them lay there.
Bandana Sara #2 probably carries a razor, so I only smile at her.
But what of me? How do I really feel about this stretching? It's not that different from mornings naked in front of my full length mirror under lit by a lamp on the floor.
I am wearing a $10 watch from CVS that looks more expensive. Yes, I am getting in touch with my body parts and I feel an urge to group hug. I should close my eyes and imagine a better world, a world with more coffee.
Her flowered dress is making me dizzy. I want to bury myself in the calm of Angela's blue top. I want to feel safe in my emotional crib.
Martin and Jim stretching do nothing for my sensibilities. Two middle aged guys with no balance. If they keel over, let them lay there.
Bandana Sara #2 probably carries a razor, so I only smile at her.
But what of me? How do I really feel about this stretching? It's not that different from mornings naked in front of my full length mirror under lit by a lamp on the floor.
I am wearing a $10 watch from CVS that looks more expensive. Yes, I am getting in touch with my body parts and I feel an urge to group hug. I should close my eyes and imagine a better world, a world with more coffee.
Listening
They speak softly, these fragile humans
I must move closer to the window
My rigid shadow a child of my rigid spine
Three voices
One is gravel, one is cotton, one squeaky shoes
Humans vomiting words
I imitate their sorry sounds
The night my companion
My ruse never fails
I do children better than children
Alarmed adults sprint outside
Into my dark lair
My sobs are like no other
Help Me!
I am your family!
You burst from the door
I leap and devour you
All that is human becomes mine
And I'll eat your little doggie too
Cackle, cackle
I must move closer to the window
My rigid shadow a child of my rigid spine
Three voices
One is gravel, one is cotton, one squeaky shoes
Humans vomiting words
I imitate their sorry sounds
The night my companion
My ruse never fails
I do children better than children
Alarmed adults sprint outside
Into my dark lair
My sobs are like no other
Help Me!
I am your family!
You burst from the door
I leap and devour you
All that is human becomes mine
And I'll eat your little doggie too
Cackle, cackle
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Honey Mustard
You can't have chicken tenders without honey mustard. Here's my question. What does honey mustard do when no one orders tenders? Does it just sit around waiting for the call? Must it exercise to keep its taste? Does it ever get bored or jealous of ketchup, which has all kinds of uses?
What about its relationship with other mustard? There has to be friction there. One has to assume other countries make better use of this condiment.
Did you ever get honey mustard on your fingers in a public place and be unable to refrain from licking it off? That happened to me last night. The huge container had a pump handle and I kept pumping away until a large glob missed my cup and landed on my fingers. I just began licking away, indifferent to the stares of others in suits and finery because they were celebrating sausage fest at the Zeppelin Bier Hall and that is how you dress for such an event.
To my knowledge, there has never been a honey mustard fest anywhere. Write your Congress person.
What about its relationship with other mustard? There has to be friction there. One has to assume other countries make better use of this condiment.
Did you ever get honey mustard on your fingers in a public place and be unable to refrain from licking it off? That happened to me last night. The huge container had a pump handle and I kept pumping away until a large glob missed my cup and landed on my fingers. I just began licking away, indifferent to the stares of others in suits and finery because they were celebrating sausage fest at the Zeppelin Bier Hall and that is how you dress for such an event.
To my knowledge, there has never been a honey mustard fest anywhere. Write your Congress person.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Man Bun
Yesterday in NYC I saw a middle aged guy with a man bun. I thought about calling 911, but no one else seemed upset. It was a neat bun and he seemed comfortable. Aesthetically, I was appalled. Wearing a man bun is like owning a Volvo. You have to make more masculine choices.
This is a trend that must be stopped before it explodes and you have Minnesota loggers with buns. People like me, who have extra time on their hands, must lead the way.
Yes, I get my eyebrows trimmed, but that is all about looking presentable. Left untreated, my eyebrows resemble barbed wire gone berserk. Just the effort to create a man bun sucks up valuable man hours that could be devoted to stripping bark or changing transmission fluid.
Who decided this was acceptable storage of excess hair?
Don't try to convince me women love it. I think I'm blaming the Australians. Insidious bastards.
This is a trend that must be stopped before it explodes and you have Minnesota loggers with buns. People like me, who have extra time on their hands, must lead the way.
Yes, I get my eyebrows trimmed, but that is all about looking presentable. Left untreated, my eyebrows resemble barbed wire gone berserk. Just the effort to create a man bun sucks up valuable man hours that could be devoted to stripping bark or changing transmission fluid.
Who decided this was acceptable storage of excess hair?
Don't try to convince me women love it. I think I'm blaming the Australians. Insidious bastards.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)