The One That Got Away

I had exactly one hair left on my head. Pattern baldness turned into surface of the moon baldness. But I was determined to keep that one long, gray hair, which was located in the front of my scalp.
I tried combing it straight back, off to the side, even let it hang forward until it has reached my eyebrow. I use conditioner and specially imported New Zealand shampoo, designed to straighten the follicle root.
I slept with a skull cap to protect it from humidity and dry heat in winter. I always wore a cap outside, but made sure to air it out inside. That hair needed to breathe. I stay away from radiators, dish washers,  fans and boiling water--anything that might lead this strand to have a breakdown.
And yes, I spoke to it on a regular basis.
I was so careful, but technology did me in. I was at the library and had to use the facilities. Little did I know they had installed state of the art Austrian Super Flush urinals. I innocently did my business and pushed a button. The power of the response sucked up all the air around me and thrust my face against the wall. It yanked out my one hair and  it fell into the urinal, staring up at me in horror.
I sobbed as I rubbed my now completely bald scalp. But I didn't panic. I Googled Hair Is Us and within days a small box arrived containing a long, gray hair and super glue. They claimed it was from Richard Gere.  I only know it looks so elegant I want to cry.

Message from Beyond

Joe really missed his mother. He remembered all the good times. He decided to visit Eva the Channel er.
He paid her $20 to contact his mom. The lights dimmed, her hands  hovered in the air, she closed her eyes, moaned and began speaking in a gutteral rasp. Joe understood none of it.
Finally Eva emerged from her trance, stared at him   and relayed this. Your mother says you undercooked the sausage. Plus, you never sweep under the bed.
Eva collapsed, her head lolling sideways.
The lights went up, Joe politely thanked her and left. This wasn't such a good idea.
Next day, as he prepared supper, the phone rang. It was Eva complaining his mother had kept her up all night with messages. Make your own tomato sauce like I taught you. Clean the leaves from the gutter. You need a haircut. Stop picking your nose.
Eva was ranting, but Joe offer3ed no solution. He had slept like a baby.
That Saturday he went to the library, getting there a few minutes early. He spotted his friend Paula sitting on a bench. As he approached, he noticed her mouth was open and her eyes closed. He shook her and called her name. Frantic, he considered calling 911.
She shuddered, opened her eyes and stared at him for almost a minute.Finally she shook her finger at him and barked, Your mother wants to know why you didn't change your socks this morning. And stay away from those strip clubs.
.

King of the Playground

It was generally accepted Oscar was king of the playground. He excelled at all the apparatus--swings, merry go round, monkey bars and sand box.All except one--the see saw.
Oscar had a bad experience there. A cute girl he liked offered to ride it opposite him. After a few moments of joy, she suddenly jumped off her seat when he was at the apogee. Oscar came crashing down on his rump, causing bruises and pain. He never went back and had serious issues with trust.
Oscar's parents tried everything to ge him to overcome his fear, unsuccessfully. Finally they called in The Playground Whisperer.
This stern woman with thick brows did no whispering once she got him alone. She spit out words like, stop whining and grow a pair. She then tied Oscar to the seat with strong rope and proceeded to see saw with him all morning until he moaned for water.
It worked. His fear of the see saw was gone.
But now he was deathly afraid of middle aged women with thick brows.

Tuscan Munchkins

The Tuscan Munchkins lived in a big house with many windows. They frolicked around their spacious grounds. They were a splinter group from the Oz Munchkins, who lived in little shacks with only one window. Boring.
In Tuscany these folks could slide off their sloped red roof into the arms of stronger peers, Then they would march around singing happy music. Their lives could not be better.
Then the unimaginable happened. Mussolini took power and ordered them out of their home and into the mines to work hours on end. He claimed the house as his own. The Munchkins worked next to seven dwarfs who whispered to each other as though they had a secret. Perhaps some woman stashed away.
When the Oz Munchkins heard of their fate they could only shrug and say  I told you so.

Slush

Periodically we must be reminded of the ugliness and inevitability of slush. I was out briefly today to run errands and have a cup of coffee. The snow was quite beautiful.
By the time I went outside again much of what was on the ground had turned to slippery slush. My spirits sank. Slush is dirty and treacherous. Slush is Frank Underwood from House of Cards. It is the relative you dread showing up at family gatherings. Slush takes no prisoners; it salivates at the sight of sneaker wear, or, even better, dress shoes.
Ice gets a bad rap. In its own way ice is elegant. When you slip on ice it will leave you embarrassed, aching, but, all important, dry. Slush seeps into every pore in seconds. Scrambling to your feet will not help one bit. Falling in slush is humiliating. It makes one doubt the existence of a benevolent God.
And if you're waiting for a bus during slush time and a vehicle passes too close, the spray may just leave you murderous. More felonies are committed during slush accumulation. Look it up.

Old Friend

I met an old friend from work this morning. He recognized me first. We, two retirees, sat in McDonalds and sipped coffee while catching up. I'm out of the PO eight years, he's out two. Both of us are happy to have made it through, although he got a serious neck injury which required two operations. He still has pain and walks slow, taking a disability.
He hurt himself loading a package. I was reminded of all the falls I took, any of which could have led to a similar injury. We discussed co-workers and bosses, focusing on one poor guy who retired and had a fatal heart attack two years later. He was found in his basement in the home he lived alone in. Who knows how long he lay there?
We promised to meet again in the future, but I think we covered everything in our 30 minute talk. That was a whole other life for me that provided a modest pension and not much else.

Bully

I'm minding my own business at the market, headed for checkout when this guy pushing a cart starts yelling at me. Cursing actually. Never saw him before. I stopped and walked up to him and cursed right back. What are you going to do about it, he says. What are you going to do about it, I say back.
He was much bigger and probably ill. But you can't let anyone bully you ever, especially in a public space. He pushed his cart to the cafe section and tried to enlist another guy. He kept cursing, I cursed back, Everyone else put their heads down and hoped things would calm down. We'll see.
There are a lot of sick, angry people out there whose life didn't work out. We don't have to tolerate  their crap.