Ralph defied his parents' orders and kept sneaking out to play chess. It was an addiction. His grades suffered. He was hanging out with a rough crowd--east Europeans and Russian kids his age. They cursed and spit and drank Red Bull out of the bottle.
His folks showed him slides depicting the evils of chess, how it leads to bad hygiene,sloppy fashion and non verbal communication.
They got him involved in a healthy activity--a youth bowling league. Ralph had never been inside a bowling alley. As soon as he entered the place, fear gripped him. Loud crashing noises, shouting, smells, strange shoes. His whole body shook. His team consisted of four other addicted chess fiends. None had a clue what to do. He could barely lift the ball. His shoes were too big. He had a two step approach and tossed it with both hands. He bowled a 36. Snickers from other teams. This was living hell
A month later, he and 12 others hid in Marvin's basement in the middle of the night, chess boards spread out on a large folding table.
They twitched in anticipation. Addiction had won another round. Are there rounds in chess?
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Weather Advisory
Al knew how to prepare for a winter storm. He organized his four kids into snow shoveling quadrants and trained his Basset Hound to howl at the first sign of a flake. His wife had to check the entire car for defects.
Leo, his neighbor, offered his NASA designed snow blower, but Al declined. He wanted his kids to be self sufficient.
He subscribed to Netflicks. Last storm they had tried charades and his kids thought he and his wife's interpretation of Jay Z and Beyonce was a rendition of Zombie Nation.
The sky darkened, wind increased, small pets flew past, old women in black held crucifixes, the mayor warned everyone to stay home.
Only the town checkers center was open. 42 hardy checker players were hold up inside playing one game after another. Courage comes in many forms. Three days later, when they were dug out from two feet of snow, it was discovered cannibalism and board games are not mutually exclusive.
Al lay flowers on the site. His dog pissed nearby. Now that was mutually exclusive.
Leo, his neighbor, offered his NASA designed snow blower, but Al declined. He wanted his kids to be self sufficient.
He subscribed to Netflicks. Last storm they had tried charades and his kids thought he and his wife's interpretation of Jay Z and Beyonce was a rendition of Zombie Nation.
The sky darkened, wind increased, small pets flew past, old women in black held crucifixes, the mayor warned everyone to stay home.
Only the town checkers center was open. 42 hardy checker players were hold up inside playing one game after another. Courage comes in many forms. Three days later, when they were dug out from two feet of snow, it was discovered cannibalism and board games are not mutually exclusive.
Al lay flowers on the site. His dog pissed nearby. Now that was mutually exclusive.
Joe's Conscience
I am Joe's conscience. I prevent him from stealing other writers' ideas. I make sure he wipes down gym equipment when he's done. If he sees someone drop money he returns it.
I make certain he doesn't pee behind trees.
Sometimes I take a break and all hell busts loose. Let's just say Joe has peed in more than one flower bed.
I tell myself this is a process. Ethics are a fluid concept within such a complex, multi-faceted intellect as his. In fact, I'm having brunch with his intellect tomorrow. We need to discuss his cranky prostate and that nasty element called male menopause.
The entity known as Joe needs my guidance. For the sake of the flowers.
I make certain he doesn't pee behind trees.
Sometimes I take a break and all hell busts loose. Let's just say Joe has peed in more than one flower bed.
I tell myself this is a process. Ethics are a fluid concept within such a complex, multi-faceted intellect as his. In fact, I'm having brunch with his intellect tomorrow. We need to discuss his cranky prostate and that nasty element called male menopause.
The entity known as Joe needs my guidance. For the sake of the flowers.
The Inevitable
I don't want to die.
No one wants to pass on, but it's inevitable.
Why? Why can't we just go on. I have so much I want to accomplish.
Like what?
In my heart I wanted to become a molecule.
Atoms don't have hearts
Please don't stick me in that atom smasher.
I have no influence. I'm just like you. Helpless in the face of research.
Let's be brave and not give them the satisfaction of screaming.
Atoms can't scream.
That was a cranky bunch, Dr.
I agree. It's always the electrons putting up a stink. Why can't they be like the protons and neutrons?
Ego. They all think they're the God Particle.
No one wants to pass on, but it's inevitable.
Why? Why can't we just go on. I have so much I want to accomplish.
Like what?
In my heart I wanted to become a molecule.
Atoms don't have hearts
Please don't stick me in that atom smasher.
I have no influence. I'm just like you. Helpless in the face of research.
Let's be brave and not give them the satisfaction of screaming.
Atoms can't scream.
That was a cranky bunch, Dr.
I agree. It's always the electrons putting up a stink. Why can't they be like the protons and neutrons?
Ego. They all think they're the God Particle.
Out of Reach
Any hot woman under 40
My ear wax
My fashion sense
My paper shredder
Cape May
The strange growth in the middle of my back
That thing that fell under my car seat
A viable political candidate
Someone who grasps my complexity
Coherent mumbling to keep me company
A new Lexus
An impressive aquarium
Sprinting anywhere
The hummus in the back of the fridge
My ear wax
My fashion sense
My paper shredder
Cape May
The strange growth in the middle of my back
That thing that fell under my car seat
A viable political candidate
Someone who grasps my complexity
Coherent mumbling to keep me company
A new Lexus
An impressive aquarium
Sprinting anywhere
The hummus in the back of the fridge
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Roadside Assistance
Roadside assistance is one of the perks of getting a new car.
I pulled over, called the number and asked for assistance.
The woman was very polite.
I asked where the best burrito place was.
I asked where the hot clubs were.
I asked where I could find a good barber and dentist.
She provided no help.
Kept asking about my battery, tires, hoses and belts.
Was there smoke coming from under the hood?
Was the car turning over?
I explained there was nothing wrong with the car.
I was just feeling unhappy and disconnected.
She told me happiness was in the glove compartment.
She was right.
I pulled over, called the number and asked for assistance.
The woman was very polite.
I asked where the best burrito place was.
I asked where the hot clubs were.
I asked where I could find a good barber and dentist.
She provided no help.
Kept asking about my battery, tires, hoses and belts.
Was there smoke coming from under the hood?
Was the car turning over?
I explained there was nothing wrong with the car.
I was just feeling unhappy and disconnected.
She told me happiness was in the glove compartment.
She was right.
Monday, January 18, 2016
Cpt. Bly, the Pug
Cpt. Bly, a pug, trusted none of the other dogs in the dog park. He was convinced they were planning something against him. When another animal approached and sniffed his butt, he tightened up in suspicion. High end poodles and that snotty afghan wanted nothing to do with him.He isolated himself and refused to romp with the other dogs. Truthfully, pugs don't actually romp. They take a few steps and stop to rest.
One day, a rather ruffled looking mixed breed asked him to come join the others. Cpt. Bly responded by raising his leg and letting go a stream. The other dog, rather than backing off, did the same. Suddenly the pug felt a connection.
Distrust was exhausting and he welcomed the opportunity to let down his guard. He confided that two years before, he had impregnated a wolfhound. The puppies were so ugly, people adopted them and posted them on You Tube. They all got agents and made commercials. I never saw a cent, Cpt. Bly complained.
His new friend only wanted to know how he mounted the other dog. Bly said he hopped up and held on for dear life.He barked happily. His owner, Lucy, could not believe her ears and eyes. She tried to hug him, but he pulled away.Cpt. Bly needed to take things slow. First he'd let her sniff his butt and take it from there.
One day, a rather ruffled looking mixed breed asked him to come join the others. Cpt. Bly responded by raising his leg and letting go a stream. The other dog, rather than backing off, did the same. Suddenly the pug felt a connection.
Distrust was exhausting and he welcomed the opportunity to let down his guard. He confided that two years before, he had impregnated a wolfhound. The puppies were so ugly, people adopted them and posted them on You Tube. They all got agents and made commercials. I never saw a cent, Cpt. Bly complained.
His new friend only wanted to know how he mounted the other dog. Bly said he hopped up and held on for dear life.He barked happily. His owner, Lucy, could not believe her ears and eyes. She tried to hug him, but he pulled away.Cpt. Bly needed to take things slow. First he'd let her sniff his butt and take it from there.
Small Town Blues
Marge looked out her window wistfully and thought, I still care about this town. Yes, the kids steal my flowers, garbage men spill my garbage, my mechanic is a crook, the Women's Club is shallow, karaoke at the pub is worse, police ticket everything, my salon makes me sweat, my dry cleaner loses my clothes, house to house salesmen talk my ear off.
Yes, my ex husband lives only four blocks away with his new wife who works the register at the Panera where I sometimes lunch. Yes, my pastor puts me to sleep, my chiropractor touches me inappropriately, none of the kids want to shovel my walk.
But I was born and raised in this town and I will die here and I'm sure the funeral director will gouge my brother on expenses.
I'd better move away from the window because, yes, old man Wilson is standing naked in his parlor across the street and waving to me. He still cares about my well being and this is his way of showing solidarity between divorced people. I may or not get naked in the coming weeks. His birthday is coming up and I've run out of ideas for a present.
Yes, my ex husband lives only four blocks away with his new wife who works the register at the Panera where I sometimes lunch. Yes, my pastor puts me to sleep, my chiropractor touches me inappropriately, none of the kids want to shovel my walk.
But I was born and raised in this town and I will die here and I'm sure the funeral director will gouge my brother on expenses.
I'd better move away from the window because, yes, old man Wilson is standing naked in his parlor across the street and waving to me. He still cares about my well being and this is his way of showing solidarity between divorced people. I may or not get naked in the coming weeks. His birthday is coming up and I've run out of ideas for a present.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
The Wolf at the Door
Norman was fed up with the noisey barbecues coming from the neighbors. Talking to them accomplished nothing as the racket extended far into the night.
He saw an ad for a negotiator in the paper and sent an email. He soon received a response. They would meet at a coffee shop and discuss terms.
Pablo was short, hunched and hairy. His fee was reasonable. A deal was made as money exchanged hands.
Two weeks later another barbecue took place. Norman closed the blinds and locked all the doors. He had a premonition. Night came and soon after, the screaming began. Then it was very quiet. Norman peeked through the blinds . It was a full moon.
A moment later there was a hard knock at the door, followed by a growl. Right then he knew he should have taken advantage of the sale on silver bullets at Dick's Sporting Goods.
He saw an ad for a negotiator in the paper and sent an email. He soon received a response. They would meet at a coffee shop and discuss terms.
Pablo was short, hunched and hairy. His fee was reasonable. A deal was made as money exchanged hands.
Two weeks later another barbecue took place. Norman closed the blinds and locked all the doors. He had a premonition. Night came and soon after, the screaming began. Then it was very quiet. Norman peeked through the blinds . It was a full moon.
A moment later there was a hard knock at the door, followed by a growl. Right then he knew he should have taken advantage of the sale on silver bullets at Dick's Sporting Goods.
Focus Was Everything
Lawrence, always in a morning rush, would forget to trim his nose and ear hair. He had a state of the art Belgian trimmer that just lay in his medicine cabinet.
One day at work, his co worker Sheila commented that seeing him in profile was like staring at the Amazon Rain Forest. Stung by this remark, Lawrence was determined to address the problem. Next day, he set up a mirror on a tripod next to his left ear. Using a steady hand and focus, along with superb peripheral vision, he inserted the trimmer into his ear. Unfortunately, it was on maximum and the vibration caused him to have religious visions. He saw God. God waved his index finger in admonition, indicating His displeasure.
He realized it was God's will he should have bushels of ear hair. So he put away the trimmer and even stopped yanking out stray nose hairs.
If Sheila made another crass comment, he would either turn the other cheek or make a remark about cellulite.
Now he would focus only on his work designing sturdy porch decks for retired sumo wrestlers.
One day at work, his co worker Sheila commented that seeing him in profile was like staring at the Amazon Rain Forest. Stung by this remark, Lawrence was determined to address the problem. Next day, he set up a mirror on a tripod next to his left ear. Using a steady hand and focus, along with superb peripheral vision, he inserted the trimmer into his ear. Unfortunately, it was on maximum and the vibration caused him to have religious visions. He saw God. God waved his index finger in admonition, indicating His displeasure.
He realized it was God's will he should have bushels of ear hair. So he put away the trimmer and even stopped yanking out stray nose hairs.
If Sheila made another crass comment, he would either turn the other cheek or make a remark about cellulite.
Now he would focus only on his work designing sturdy porch decks for retired sumo wrestlers.
Dear Mr. Kafka
I have been reading your work for many years and came to the conclusion we are kindred spirits. I often wake up thinking I am a Praying Mantis. Not the case, although I do rub my hands together a lot.
I also am convinced the authorities will arrest me for no reason. I double lock all my doors. I live alone in a modest house on a dead end. I have no friends.I wander the streets at night with no purpose or destination. The world is scary and unpredictable.
I also wrote to a painter by the name of Evard Munsch. I believe he is also overwhelmed by the horrors of everyday existence based on the content of his work. Perhaps the three of us can meet and go bowling. Then stop somewhere for coffee and meaningful discussion.
I, too, am a writer.I have sold nothing yet, but people say I have talent.
Looking forward to meeting you.
Sincerely,
James Joyce
I also am convinced the authorities will arrest me for no reason. I double lock all my doors. I live alone in a modest house on a dead end. I have no friends.I wander the streets at night with no purpose or destination. The world is scary and unpredictable.
I also wrote to a painter by the name of Evard Munsch. I believe he is also overwhelmed by the horrors of everyday existence based on the content of his work. Perhaps the three of us can meet and go bowling. Then stop somewhere for coffee and meaningful discussion.
I, too, am a writer.I have sold nothing yet, but people say I have talent.
Looking forward to meeting you.
Sincerely,
James Joyce
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Star Wars 20
The Farce Awakens
The Floss Awakens
Revenge of the Zits
R2D2--The Big bShort
Jeda Jethro vs Death Star
Gravity Fights Back
The Sparkly Stuff Ain't Stars
Ugly Ctreatures in Tights
Princess Lea Remembers Nothing
Yoda Gives Really Bad Advice
The Floss Awakens
Revenge of the Zits
R2D2--The Big bShort
Jeda Jethro vs Death Star
Gravity Fights Back
The Sparkly Stuff Ain't Stars
Ugly Ctreatures in Tights
Princess Lea Remembers Nothing
Yoda Gives Really Bad Advice
Not a Clue
What are we doing here? Where are we? How do we get out? One moment we're floating along free; the next we're stuck in this hot cavern and we can't see a damn thing. I can't breathe. I'm claustrophobic. Let's split up and see if we can find an opening.
Will I ever see my family again?
We're going to suffocate. Let's not just accept our fate. Let's go down fighting. All these panicked voices. Who is the enemy here?
Joe sat still as the doctor examined him. Looked up his nose. You have a sinus infection, he said. A good antibiotic and Tylenol should give you relief. But where do the germs come from, Joe asked. Albania, the doctor replied dryly.
I want answers. someone demanded. If there is a God of Germs why is he punishing us in this mushy hellhole with pulsating walls? Who will be our saviors? The words echoed through the cave.
I heard of something called a sneeze, I said. Maybe that will propel us out to freedom.
But do these sneeze things exist?
I haven't a clue. All I have is hope.
Will I ever see my family again?
We're going to suffocate. Let's not just accept our fate. Let's go down fighting. All these panicked voices. Who is the enemy here?
Joe sat still as the doctor examined him. Looked up his nose. You have a sinus infection, he said. A good antibiotic and Tylenol should give you relief. But where do the germs come from, Joe asked. Albania, the doctor replied dryly.
I want answers. someone demanded. If there is a God of Germs why is he punishing us in this mushy hellhole with pulsating walls? Who will be our saviors? The words echoed through the cave.
I heard of something called a sneeze, I said. Maybe that will propel us out to freedom.
But do these sneeze things exist?
I haven't a clue. All I have is hope.
Hidden Aliens
Hidden aliens all over the place. In my writing group. At least six of them. The one next to me clicking away like crazy on her laptop. Across from me, another speaking in gibberish. Mention grilled cheese sandwich and he just stares blankly.
I write something hilarious, they do not laugh. I put out a serious piece, not impressed. They never burp.
Why so many in my group? I put up flyers asking for imaginative people thinking out of the box. Maybe that was it.
The real tip off is none of them smell. All humans have a distinctive smell. These creatures do not. Unnerving, but I am determined to keep their secret. One time I hiccuped and they were alarmed. Thought it was a weapon.
Hmmm. Something smells like Genoa salami. Wait. That's me I ran out of cheese and had to have something for breakfast. Another tip off-they never use the bathroom.
I write something hilarious, they do not laugh. I put out a serious piece, not impressed. They never burp.
Why so many in my group? I put up flyers asking for imaginative people thinking out of the box. Maybe that was it.
The real tip off is none of them smell. All humans have a distinctive smell. These creatures do not. Unnerving, but I am determined to keep their secret. One time I hiccuped and they were alarmed. Thought it was a weapon.
Hmmm. Something smells like Genoa salami. Wait. That's me I ran out of cheese and had to have something for breakfast. Another tip off-they never use the bathroom.
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Living in the Imagination
Bobby spent much of his youth hiding under the bed. His parents thought he would grow out of it. He never did. His wife, Joyce, tried to be understanding. But she needed the car keys to go shopping.
Bobby taught World History at the local high school. Sometimes his mind wandered and he imagined his students as fighter pilots readying for a mission. In the faculty lounge he saw the other teachers as generals debating strategy. At red lights he became a double agent about to be exposed. On the toilet he was a gunner on a fighter plane.
Leaning back in his recliner, he was a mule Skinner driving his team across the prairie.
Now, lying under the bed, he was crawling under barb wire, German bullets strafing the air.
After a couple of hours, he crawled out and saw a note from his wife. She had gone shopping with a neighbor. Heat up a casserole, she said.
He went downstairs and did just that, pretending he was with the police bomb squad and the casserole was the bomb. He couldn't mention that to Joyce. She would be hurt.
Bobby saw the mailman coming up the path. An assassin. He grabbed a rolling pin in one hand and a frying pan in the other.
This scenario could get ugly fast.
Bobby taught World History at the local high school. Sometimes his mind wandered and he imagined his students as fighter pilots readying for a mission. In the faculty lounge he saw the other teachers as generals debating strategy. At red lights he became a double agent about to be exposed. On the toilet he was a gunner on a fighter plane.
Leaning back in his recliner, he was a mule Skinner driving his team across the prairie.
Now, lying under the bed, he was crawling under barb wire, German bullets strafing the air.
After a couple of hours, he crawled out and saw a note from his wife. She had gone shopping with a neighbor. Heat up a casserole, she said.
He went downstairs and did just that, pretending he was with the police bomb squad and the casserole was the bomb. He couldn't mention that to Joyce. She would be hurt.
Bobby saw the mailman coming up the path. An assassin. He grabbed a rolling pin in one hand and a frying pan in the other.
This scenario could get ugly fast.
Machiavelli
Machiavelli paced back and forth in his spacious library. His manipulations and lies had gotten him control of the Church, the military and other politicians. He had tremendous power, which was the goal. But he could not control the artists and poets. Nothing he said could convince them he wasn't full of crap.
He spit out the window in disgust. He even offered them free pizza for life. Fools.
Then he hit upon a perfect solution. Give them their own territory apart from every one else. He would assign it a catchy name--Sicily.He would wait until that pathetic slacker finished painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Why didn't he just appoint those house painters. The job would have been done weeks ago.
Artists. Seriously?
He spit out the window in disgust. He even offered them free pizza for life. Fools.
Then he hit upon a perfect solution. Give them their own territory apart from every one else. He would assign it a catchy name--Sicily.He would wait until that pathetic slacker finished painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Why didn't he just appoint those house painters. The job would have been done weeks ago.
Artists. Seriously?
Dream Exchanger
I put a block on my dreams. I have an app for that. I was having nightmares about being married with six kids and a mortgage. I repaired revolving doors.
One of my friends gave me an address for a Dream Ex changer. I knocked three times and whistled. A tiny old woman opened the door. Please, I begged, I need help. She let me in and for a moderate fee she gave me an old tape recorder. I was to play it at night and it would gently put me to sleep and instill new dreams from someone else.
All I can say is buyer beware. It turns out she sold me Tim Burton's discarded dreams.
Needless to say, I woke up screaming.
One of my friends gave me an address for a Dream Ex changer. I knocked three times and whistled. A tiny old woman opened the door. Please, I begged, I need help. She let me in and for a moderate fee she gave me an old tape recorder. I was to play it at night and it would gently put me to sleep and instill new dreams from someone else.
All I can say is buyer beware. It turns out she sold me Tim Burton's discarded dreams.
Needless to say, I woke up screaming.
Cootie Memories
This place is so familiar. I grew up here with my family. We had good times. Then, gradually, things changed. More open space. Less protection. Sprays and lotions, designed to destroy us. We tried moving lower to the ears, but waxy buildup was an issue.
So we relocated to a host named Greta, with a bushel of hair.
Last week, after years away, we decided to pay a visit to our old haunts, namely Joe. Well, we saw right away we had made the right move by leaving. Miles of bare scalp, wrinkled and mottled.
Cooties have to be objective and unsentimental.
I'm sure Joe reaches up and scratches sometimes and wonders where his old tenants wound up. We left him sleeping peacefully and smiling. He was a good host while it lasted.
So we relocated to a host named Greta, with a bushel of hair.
Last week, after years away, we decided to pay a visit to our old haunts, namely Joe. Well, we saw right away we had made the right move by leaving. Miles of bare scalp, wrinkled and mottled.
Cooties have to be objective and unsentimental.
I'm sure Joe reaches up and scratches sometimes and wonders where his old tenants wound up. We left him sleeping peacefully and smiling. He was a good host while it lasted.
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