The Watchmen

They swarmed over the city bearing watches. Small, quick and fast, they struck before you could blink. Stripped you of your wristwatch and replaced it with a Bulova. After initial annoyance, people realized getting a free Bulova was a God send. That brand owned the upscale market. The strategy was once you owned one you never went back. It worked--their stock skyrocketed.
Eventually The Watchmen were stalked and cornered, people pleading for a watch. It got nasty, with pushing and shoving. Bulova changed it's marketing to a more acceptable TV ads.
Of course smart phones killed off the wristwatch. Some Watchmen tried delivering phone books, becoming meter men or driving trucks. All those were replaced by computers and other technology.
Now they are old men, sitting around dive bars talking about the old days. One fellow predicted one day they'll come up with frozen pizza. The others scoffed. What would we do without pizza parlors?

The Lie

Daddy, where is Willie?
He went to visit relatives, honey.
He always licks my face and wakes me up Does he know the way?
I'm sure he does, sweetie.
When is he cominh home?
I'm not sure. Why don't you get your coat and we'll head to Chuckie Cheease?
What if Willie comes home and we're not there?
He'll just wait for us.
Daddy, I heard you digging in the yard this morning.
I'm sorry I woke you.
What are you burying in that hole?
Why don't we get some ice cream?
Is it a secret?
I don't like secrets, sweetie.
So why don't you tell me?
You might cry.
No I won't.
Honey, Daddy didn't quite tell you the truth before.
About what?
About Willie.

Draining Training

I couldn't take it any longer. I was Assistant VP of Acquisitions at a prominent bank. I loved my job, but the women in my office could not keep their hands off me. Very stressful. So I quit. Floundered for months. Finally took a barista job. But the same thing happened with the waitresses. I felt used, objectified and quit.
One day I walked past a help wanted poster and it hit me. I knew my destiny.
I went and joined a gym, worked out religiously. Got ripped and jacked and pumped. Worked on my sensual expression and poses.
I crushed my audition and was hired on the spot. Now I am a highly respected Chippendale dancer. One night my former bank boss came in. Her name was Wilma, Head of Acquisitions. I winked at her, turned and wiggled my butt.
You will never acquire this asset, lady.
It felt so good.

Fragments of Memory

Faces and names blur. Pieces of conversation. Bad jokes. Anecdotes and arguments. Hugs and handshakes. A spinning cycle of memories. Carol lay there awaiting the end. Around her, notes from an unfinished symphony. She had even forgotten which vital organ was failing.
Try to make sense of a life.Somehow fit all the strange puzzle pieces together to form a narrative. Where do you place the regret? Did I own a pet? What are my kids' names? She remembers a man, a church, a priest, vows. His name?
Manny! Yes, that was his name. Her breathing calms momentarily. Then she realizes Manny is the guy down the corner who makes pizza.
Carol quietly passes away, her final thought wondering if she ever ordered pizza with anchovies.

Unexpected Guest

I opened the door and there stood Batman.
Can I use your phone? My Batmobile stalled out and my cell is dead. I let him in of course. He'd saved our city numerous times. Outside, horns beeped. He was blocking traffic. He called someone and in seconds was shouting in anger. Handed me back my phone and sighed. He looked exhausted.
My AAA membership is expired. Robin was supposed to take care of this and get my vehicle checked out. He has become full of himself. Discipline is on the agenda. He took an Advil for his aching knees.
I gave him orange juice and toast. I was crime fighting all night, he said, before collapsing into my recliner. Drivers had pushed the Batmobile to the side of the road. He borrowed my phone again and called Robin to pick him up. Batman fell asleep and immediately snored up a storm.
The bell rang. Robin stood there in full costume. His Honda Civic was in my driveway. The Batmobile was being towed off. I shook Batman awake. He stood and glared at Robin, who cast his eyes downward. The crime stopper shook my hand and led Robin out the door. I saw him squeeze into the Civic, getting his cape caught in the door. I heard some bad words.
I will never sit in that recliner again.

Unopened Box

The box arrived on Mary's doorstep without warning. She brought it inside and stared at it. Forty two, divorced, cashier at Kings, no kids, few friends.
She opened it. Sneakers. Gold and pink sneakers. Perfect fit. She walked around the apartment. Very comfortable.
Who? Why?
Then she understood. Mary quickly packed her essentials into one carry on bag, walked through the door and locked it behind her without a look back.
Where do you think you're going, her super asked.
She smiled. Away, Joseph. Far away.

Relaxation Techniques

Rubbing my bald spot
Practice swabbing out my ears
Bend paper clips into odd shapes
Call up ggofy people and exchange goofiness
Watch the dolphin channel
Squeeze bocci balls between my thighs to impress Italian women
Count my liver spots
 Read the obits and see who I outlived
Roll avocado pits in my palms
Quilt while listening to Kenny G

Movie Pitch

This is a pitch for a low budget horror movie set in the burbs.
Billy is 15 and seems normal, if a bit moody. But he tends to wander the streets, pretending to be homeless. Kind strangers try to help. He lies and explains his single mother is abusive. His father left months before.
His plan is to have her investigated and taken away. Then he will apply for emancipation and get the house to himself, where he can periodically head down to the basement where he has imprisoned his abusive father and torture him.
There is some sort of small pet Billy will kill for the hell of it. An innocent girl will fall for his mysterious ways and be in danger.
His 68 year old grandfather is a retired detective, and not convinced his son, Billy's dad, really vanished. He goes poking around and Billy has to dispose of him. Billy hums to himself and appears distracted. He has that cute, innocent look. I see Justin Bieber as Billy.

Generations Apart

As a teen, Lois was very judgmental. She disdained poor posture, overweight people, sloppy dressers. There were so many short comings, including taste in music which ran to Perry Como and Doris Day. Snore City.
She tried lecturing these unfortunates, but only wound up alienating people. She couldn't even get her father to shave his ridiculous mustache. He farted and burped and smelled funny in the morning.
Eventually she graduated college, married a stock broker and had three kids who grew into teens. After three pregnancies her posture stooped. She drank and ate too much and developed love handles. Her kids snickered when she played Bon Jovi music. Sometimes she passed wind and drooled. She avoided the scale.
One day she met a high school friend who looked in tremendous shape. Not a wrinkle. She asked how he did it. He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth, and said he had a hobby. Writing. He wrote short stories and had a blog. Everything flowed from writing.
Next day Lois joined an extreme hiking club. Writing was just too damn difficult.

Swing State

Swing is a state of mind. Put on Benny Goodman, the Dorsey brothers, Harry James, Artie Shaw, Glen Miller, Kay Kaiser and let the music carry you away.
TCM showed Swing Time with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers. Man, what a trip. His solo left me gasping and she is so underrated.
People of a certain age know exactly what I'm talking about. None of those youngsters on all those TV singing contests can swing. They just sing real loud. We at the home can't stand them. When I had my breakdown and grabbed a traffic cop and forced her to jitterbug, this is where my family sent me. They watch you every second.
I wish they hadn't confiscated my tap shoes. Now all I do is close my eyes and imagine Ginger whirling about me in perfect form.