483. The Telltale Singlet

Related imageA lovely time was had by all at yet another dinner party with the same lovely people we have come to know well over the past five years or so. If you recall my earlier post called The Dinner Party, that action took place at Suzanne and Gary’s abode on the hill two years ago. Oh, my!! Time has sprinted away from me. It ended in deep space as I saved the human race by exiting the exploding star ship, or something like that. Anyhow, this meeting of the Great 8 took place at Sue and Mark’s lovely home. The women- Suzanne, Sue, Susan and Sara- meet for a weekly prayer group during the school year. The men- Gary, Mark, Dan and I- just hang around looking for meaning. Haven’t found any yet.

Image result for cher picturesLast night after a wonderful display of Hors d’Oeuvres and white wine, the women retreated to the front parlor, closing the french doors behind them. For the next forty minutes they operated under Cher law, which is a secret to all outsiders except Madonna and Lady Gaga. Leaving the four of us unsupervised. Which would have been okay except for Gary. He loves to talk about wrestling and singlets and the male body’s definition. Since it was Mark’s home, I appealed to him. “Are there any ordinances about home burials in this neighborhood?”Related image

“No, I mean, no you can’t bury someone in your yard. Why do you ask?”

“It’s for Gary. With all this rain the ground must be soft. It would not take the three of us long to dig a shallow grave and clean up. We’d be back before dinner was served.”

Gary, “I’d like it if you could bury me in my Westchester singlet. It might be a little tight on me nowadays. But no matter. Did you know in ancient times they wrestled naked.”Image result for sumo wrestler images

“Gary, you don’t understand: we are serious. Our wives are discussing Cheriah law in the next room and you are drooling about wrestling naked with us. This is clearly a case of justifiable homicide.”

Dan, “In Quincy it’s legal to shoot a guest in your living room if he so much as quotes CNN or votes Democrat. And you are way past that standard of indecency. Plus, you have zero remorse.”

Image result for gene wilder pictures as nutty professorGary, “I will have you know, gentlemen, that in Latin, morse meant to bite or gnaw. Thus, remorse conjures the sense of being gnawed at again in one’s conscience for misdeeds he/she remembers. So, it is true: I have no remorse because I have not had any morse… How can a guy have remorse if he doesn’t have any morse? Um, yum, these bacon wrapped scallops are fabulous.  So I take it you don’t want to see my yearbook wrestling pictures? I sent them to NASA to enhance my physique’s definitions. I might put them on Facebook if I like the results.”

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I re-appealed to Mark, “What if we dug under the shed out there? No one would see the ground had been disturbed. It’s far enough from the house that you could deny knowledge or involvement. It might as well be Ukraine out there. We could dump the dirt in the woods and cover Gary’s grave with concrete to match the existing foundation. We would swear a sacred oath and then kill Dan just to shrink the odds in our favor.”

Dan, “But, but, why not find an empty cistern in P-P- Pond B-B- Bank and put him in there with a b-b- bottle of bl-bl-bleach? No muss, no fuss. You don’t have to k-k- kill m-m-me.”

Mark, “It’s sounding more acceptable as things deteriorate, but my conscience is wrestling with the morality of it. I don’t want to kill Dan, but I hate the smell of chlorine.”

“I don’t like chlorine either. Perhaps we could get scented bleach, but it might have to be done to cover up the Gary incident. That’s how these things work, Mark. Don’t you ever watch Dateline?”

“But why do we have to kill Dan?”Image result for questioning male faces

“He’s a witness with a conscience and a moral compass. You can’t trust a guy like that. Plus, there is room under the shed for up to three bodies. Think of efficiency and expediency. Try not to get all hung up on the moral issues at hand or resale values. It has to be done for the good of the Nation.”

Mark, “I don’t know. I get a queasy feeling when I think about Gary not leaving, haunting us indefinitely. It’s creepy beyond creepy….”

Gary, “You do love me!  I’m gonna get you a helium balloon that says, ‘I love singlets’. You guys, I knew in your hearts you were fellow wrestlers.”Image result for elmer fudd pictures

Mark, “Okay. I am green lighting this. But I don’t want my fingerprints on anything. I’ll stand guard while you and Dan do the deed. Make it quick.”

Just then the french doors opened and out came the ladies. The murderous moment had passed, but we eyed one another suspiciously thereafter. Every word was analyzed. Every glance evaluated for hidden meanings as we broke bread together.Related image

During dinner the rolls were passed clockwise with Susan’s homemade blackberry jam just behind them, as succulent ham was handed around counterclockwise. Cheesy hash browns and winter veggies were passed directly across and then moved in a Z pattern with Marine color guard precision. The entire food passage was choreographed magically above bowls of candy corn and around a single smokeless red candle. Beauty and agility vied with each other and wound up in a draw.  Mark’s Sirius radio blend floated across the white oak floor, completing the rich ambience. If not for the previous plotting, it would easily pass as a warm, loving meal shared among friends.Image result for edgar allen poe portraits

Edgar Allen Poe himself would not have written such macabre Gothic material as The Telltale Singlet. And yet, there it was with all the classic elements of terror– Cheriah law, perversion, betrayal, violence, murder, and dessert, all wrapped into one dish.

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482. Waiting for to go…

Image result for ancient manuscript picturesCan I get to 500 posts by Dec. 31?  Who cares? I do, strange to say.  500 x an average of 1,000 words per post equals a half million words. That’s the largest amount of anything I can think I’ve produced in my lifetime. I’m not a numbers kind of guy, mind you, but for some reason this seems like an achievement of some sort. Whether or not it matters is another question. I hope somewhere what I’ve written has added value to someone else’s day via a chuckle, a smile, a sigh, an insight, an ah hah moment on the positive side, or a smug sense of superior sanity on the other. “This guy is really a piece of work. He makes my habit of collecting unmatched socks seem so normal by comparison.” No matter the capacity in which I serve, I am proud to serve you, my reader. It’s a gift that not all appreciate, like a Turkish yogurt maker.

Image result for long line picture of a coffee shopThis morning at the coffee shop, two office ladies were ordering elaborate fru fru drinks for everyone in their office. Must have been six or eight specialty drinks that Tabitha the new barrista was scurrying about to create. Meanwhile these office ladies wrote their coworkers’ names on each cup. “Let’s see, the machiato is Bill’s. Sandy wanted the skinny latte with two shots of almond. Who wanted the double Americano, Cindy?  Oh, that was Bob.”

After ten minutes the bossier of the two  turned to me and apologized for the agonizing wait. Joel and I were sharing stories while we waited as patiently as is humanly possible. He was in a black suit with a polka dotted bow tie, looking like a symphony director without tails or baton. Batonless. Yes, that’s a word, Autospeller. Even better, symphonyless. I imagined a traffic cop bursting through the front door, “Sir, did you lose a symphony orchestra?”Image result for symphony maestro pictures

Joel: “Well, let’s see… (checks his pockets). Officer, I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

Traffic  cop:  “I’ve got one waiting on a tour bus at the light.”

Joel: “Oh, perhaps I did. Let me go see if they like Mahler.” Exits.Image result for tour bus loading pictures

“Bossy pants” continued, “You remind me so much of a doctor I worked with. Well, he was a veterinarian actually, Dr. Kamaradi. You sort of look like him. I’ve noticed you are in here a lot. You’re a doctor of some sort, right?”

“Uh, no.”

“A psychologist?”

“No…I did play a doctor on television once. Ever see Doogie Houser?”Image result for doogie howser pictures

“Was that you?”


“I was gonna say, that was in your younger days.”

“No, I’m kidding you. I was born this age.”

Light, nervous laughter.

“It was a difficult labor.”

“Okay, well, we’ve got to go.” And away they went with their caffeinated pirate booty.

Related imageMy head was full of congestion and Robitussin. In fact, I am still under their battling influences as I peck away at the keys now, Credence Clearwater playing on Pandora, the cool October air falling on my knees, my nose dripping like a leaky kitchen faucet.

I shared a few favorite seventh grade drama stories for Joel’s entertainment and edification as we waited and waited. He mentioned something involving a dead body being moved. Oh, yeah. Now I remember. I’d said, “I am feeling so deathly”, I said, “I fear dying in mid session with a client. That could really mess with a fragile psyche.”Image result for dead man in a chair pictures

Joel, “It could scar them for life. The guilt… and then moving the body…”

“Yes, reminds me of a middle school play where one actor gets killed in a scene, then the lights go out and he was supposed to exit. Problem was he didn’t exit and the lights came on again. The kids looked at me, wondering how to solve this drama glitch. I paused for a moment behind the paper set and then cupped my hands into a megaphone. ‘Carcass removal. Carcass removal.’ I blared out. Two boys walked out and removed the body on cue. The audience thought it was a nice comic touch.”

Joel, “Oh, my. That’s too funny. Carcass removal. Very Monty Pythonesque. Bring out your dead.”Image result for monty python bring out your dead images

I had to blow my nose and then free associated to another drama moment. “Oh, then there was Deion. He’s the kid who sneezed out a river of snot when he got up to deliver his persuasive speech in English class. He slimed himself and stood there looking sheepish as if the Ghostbusters had sprayed him. Anyway, he was the narrator of another play and the first person to appear to the audience. He froze up in the spotlight. Everything got quiet. You could hear kids giggle-breathe, but nothing came out of Deion’s mouth. He was truly dumbstruck. Backstage the kids looked at me with big imploring eyes. ‘Do something!’ they mouthed, desperate for solution.Related image

I took a breath and then uttered in a loud divine voice, “Deion? This is God. I want you to repeat what I say.” He was relieved and began to breathe again. “Yes, God. I will.” And he did repeat word for word. Again the middle school kids in the audience thought this was well rehearsed comedy with precise comic timing.

But I believe the greatest play scene of my delustrious career was the great circus play which featured a girl basketball player doing amazing dribbling tricks. The next awesome act featured two boys from the behaviorally disturbed class across the hall snake charming a live seven foot boa constrictor out of a basket. It worked once. The other times Skinny Jimmy would squirm across the floor like a snake as Art the Fart played his recorder flute thing.

Image result for magician cutting woman in half imagesThe ultimate act, however, had to be Zorando the Bosnian Magician. This trick was fairly elaborate. First we had to cut what had been Dracula’s coffin in another play into two equal halves. Lizzie the skinny gymnast smushed herself into the top half with her head sticking out. Short Eddie pressed himself into the bottom half with his feet sticking out. We draped a black cloth over the box, disguising the fact that it was already in two pieces. Then Zorando the Magnificent Bosnian Baffler proceeded to saw the narrow gap between the two halves as Liz screamed and Short Eddie wiggled his legs. In his final draw, Zorando ran the saw through red tempera paint, held the bloody saw aloft and uttered, “Oh, I must have hit an artery.”Related image

The audience was stupefied as Skinny Jimmy and Art the snake charmer moved the two box parts to opposite ends of the stage. As Zorando bowed, the lights dimmed and a false ceiling tile was released, pouring confetti on the unsuspecting, previously stupefied audience who were certain they had witnessed high culture. Later, a kid in the audience asked me where the guy in the ceiling ran to. So much for eye witness testimony.

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Truly, it was amazing, and the stuff of legend. Amen.


481. Five Bullies walk into a bar…

O’Reilly:  Fellas, no bloviating. We’re here without our lawyers so we can commiserate about the rough treatment the lying liberal media are heaping on us. You and I know that boys will be boys and it’s mostly a bunch of locker room talk, and if we happen to score with a blonde, then it’s good for her too. It’s a win-win. Right?

All: Right, here, here!! Misogyny forever. Good looking, status seeking women love to feel the hands of power on their privates. Right, right, right, right!!

Image result for harvey weinstein picturesHarvey: O’Reilly, I need a thirty-second chance to make sure that all my consensual contacts actually were consensual. You know how you can get carried away in a lustful moment and maybe grope before you look at the law? I mean, that one woman had me swear on my kids’ lives that I would be a gentleman. And then I still couldn’t help myself. She was just too smokin’ hot not to grope. She got a bigger part in my next movie, and I got what I wanted.  Fair exchange of goods if you ask me. I was a lawyer in the Air Force, so I know a thing or two about the law.

All:  Sure!! We feel you, Harvey. Where’s the forgiveness and redemption like the leftist media gave Obama and Clinton. I mean, at least Clinton was a groper and what happened to him? Nothing.

Image result for bill cosby picturesBill 2: Well, hold, hold on a second. I was still a t.v.  dad when the Clintons were in office. Bill got an ass whuppin’ from Ken Starr and the Republicans. Remember? All those women who testified against him. I mean the list went way past Monica Lewinsky and the blue dress.

Image result for bill oreilly  picturesBill 1: It’s disgusting what he did to the name of Bill, making it synonymous with rapist. Reprehensible. I am paying now for his sins, and I ‘m mad at God. When I get back on the air, I’m going to run this through the No Spin Zone and redeem the good name of Bills everywhere. I can’t wait to spin my pen around as I sloganeer pompously. God I loved that smarmy smirky version of myself. Chicks dug it too, I know. Ole Billy Blue Eyes will be back, b.a.c.k., BACK!!

Image result for roger ailes  picturesRoger: Billy Boy, you were as bad as I was, so don’t get all sanctimonious on me. It’s just your bimbos didn’t go to the press like that headline grabbing Gretchen Carlson did with me. They took the money without the noise. Bartender, a round of doubles for my friends. Don, straight tonic water?

Image result for arrogant trump picturesDonald: The trouble with you dickheads is you got caught. In all my ghost written books a predator hero is someone who doesn’t get captured.  Sure, there will be accusers, but that just makes it juicier the next time you grab’em down there. You know, break them down into a ‘he said, she said’ deal. I never lose when it comes to making deals. You guys need better lawyers. Remember that woman on the plane? I said she was a 5 out of 10 and unworthy of my gropes. Worked like a charm.

Roger: Whoa, Donnie Boy. You have a list of accusers a mile long. Why doesn’t this fecal matter stick to you?

Related imageDon: Simple: hit me and I hit back harder. Never back down. Go on the attack. Hire minions who will bleed for you. Fire them for frivolous reasons. Demand loyalty without giving any. Keep them worried and they will bleed more for you. Never ever tell the truth. Train yourself to believe in your own lies so you can pass a polygraph that your name truly is Abe Lincoln or Joseph Stalin. It works like a charm. Of course, a giant I.Q., big hands, good looks and ten billion dollars doesn’t hurt, believe me. I’m a pathological liar. You have to go into battle without the possibility of defeat ever entering your mind….

Cosby: But you never served, Bone Spur Defer. Remember?

Image result for arrogant trump picturesDon: Fake news, Bill. I served deep under covers in New York’s Vice Squad all during the war. The fire fights were hot and heavy in five star hotels. I couldn’t march, but I could crawl to fulfill my patriotic duties. Believe me, my generals will confirm my story. My service files are sealed along with my taxes, however. But you? I didn’t see you in ‘Nam.

Cosby: Navy.  Before ‘Nam after Korea, Donnie.

Don: Well, you sure have a list. What is it up to? 50?

Image result for cosby pics selling puddingCosby: Now some of that was consensual after the drug cocktails and they could no longer legally consent.

Don: I’m at least at 500 without any drugs or alcohol. You’re minor league. Stars don’t need consent. My lawyer told me that.

Image result for roger ailes picturesRoger:  I may be dead, but I too had a three digit record when I was alive. All real blondes.

Image result for harvey weinstein picturesHarvey:  You got off easy, Roger. I am suffering now. It’s not fair. I was always the bully, the power broker. Now I’m getting bent over and abused. It’s not right. I may go to ja-ja-jail. I am a veteran and a former public servant, plus I made some damn good movies.  That’s got to count for something.

Image result for roger ailes picturesRoger: I feel like the Ghost of Christmas future, Harvey. We are all forgettable men who have lived regrettable lives. We drove our shiny privileges into lust filled pig sties.

Harvey: So I’m supposed to go buy Tiny Tim the Christmas turkey now, Roger? Is that how it ends?

Bill O’Reilly is seen out and about in New York
O’Reilly: I’m writing my next book called Who Killed Tiny Tim? Got to do something between lawsuits. I miss bloviating so much.

Image result for cosby pics selling puddingCosby: Get used to it, fellas. I can’t even sell Jell-O pudding any more. Might have to sell my sweater collection.

All:  Shhh!! Someone just came through the door. Who’s there? Show yourself. We are five armed angry men. And one of us is dead.

Image result for anthony weiner picturesAnthony Weiner:  It’s just me, guys. I’m here to do maintenance. Where’s the men’s room? Understand there’s a clogged toilet, full of self righteous toilet paper proclamations of innocence and misunderstanding.

All: You sicko!! What you did was so beneath us, you whack job. You gave dirtbags a worser  reputation. You have a lot of nerve just being in our presence. What if the press gets a whiff of this?

Anthony Weiner:  I suppose they’d report that pigs smell exactly how you’d expect them to smell, like spoiled egg salad. Like us. Where’s that toilet?Image result for pigs in manure pictures






480. Sure, why not?

Related imageSunday School Sue told me with an easy wide smile that she so enjoyed my post called “Reflections”. Her compliment was a chocolate-covered lemon, however, as she continued needlessly to add context. “I could understand it, unlike some of your other posts where I wonder what you are talking about.”

“Well, thanks, Sue, for driving that nice shiny new compliment right off the cliff into a slurpy mocha mudslide.”

“Oh, that didn’t come out right.”

Image result for road runner cartoon driving off cliff pictures“No, I think I understood it exactly, unlike some of your other comments where I wonder what in the heck you are talking about. But Sara tells me the same thing. In fact, she commented on the same post, “Reflections”. Let me paraphrase, ‘It was sweet and then you drove it off the cliff with the Ted Kaczynski part. Where do you come up with this stuff?'”

“Well, that was a little strange. I mean, the Unabomber and family love? C’mon.”

“Hey, it was an extreme contrast to illustrate the goodness and power of love.”

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“Does this mean I’ll be featured in the next blog post?”

“Sure, why not?”


Well, there are two types of people in this world: those like me and everybody else. (Okay, maybe there are other categories like male and female, gay and straight, tall and short, smart and dumb. So, Fake News again. Okay, I’ll walk that comment back. One of my aides told me to say that. My generals said maybe they did and maybe they didn’t. I was first in my class and have a ginormous I.Q. except when fact checked. Many people are saying I was correct, you know. It’s playing well in the media. My base approves.) Admittedly, my group is pretty small. Eccentric for sure. I’ve only met a couple of other me’s along life’s highway. They were hitchhikers with small dogs and a “Hungry” sign outside Walmarts. Which makes me pretty darn special. (I must believe this or else what do I have to live for? Should I run for office to justify my life’s purposelessness?? Go into real estate? Oh, wait, that’s already being done.)

So what happens to Sue now? Will she join the Killer Snarks Hall of Fame? Not so fast. Here is where it gets sketchy. She asked if this snafu would rocket her into the mother of all blogs, i.e. , Burritospecial@Wordpress.com. Not to be manipulated by a Staten Island transplant, mind you, but yes, Sue, here you are in all the klieg lights glory.

Image result for shoe box bird traps picturesShe’s a nice lady, definitely a lady. Kind and winsome with a midwesterny laugh. Would anyone even dare to capture her in words and phrases? No, because some folks,actually most folks, are beyond simple shoe box bird traps. You youngsters would not know about these, but back, way back in the humid suburban summer days between the mimosa tree grove and the honeysuckle hedge that defined my backyard neighbor’s yard, Chris Young and I would set up shoe boxes on popsicle sticks attached to yards of string or twine.  Under the tilted boxes we would sprinkle bread crumbs to attract robins, blue jays, starlings and sparrows. Cardinals and orioles were also invited but never showed up. Underneath the honeysuckle we waited, hardly breathing as the birds swooped in to gobble up the crumbs. A simple flick of the wrist would drop the box on the unsuspecting birds and away we’d rush to claim our prizes. It was comparable to catching bees inside rose of Sharon blossoms. It was neat and exciting to do, but what to do after you had secured your prey?  Let them go. It was sort of anticlimactic as were many things in the early 1960’s. A lot of flirting and near seduction, but no real action.Image result for honeysuckle hedge in bloom pictures

Catching birds in shoe box traps was a half day adventure in the shared back yards of Dorset Drive and Virginia Hills Avenue. My goodness, in the days before the dreaded chain link fences, long stretches of open back yards called out for the children of Baby Boomers to play baseball and hit golf balls. Which is how I got the scar under my right eyebrow. I think it was Tommy Storm who was hitting golf balls off a tee with a one iron as we younger kids happily chased them down, over the hill like trained Labrador retrievers.

Image result for backyard golfing between houses pictures“Here you go, Tommy. Hit it again and we’ll exhaust ourselves running all over the neighborhood trying to track down your old Titleist 1 golf ball.”

It was times like these when older boys realized they could manipulate the crap out of young siblings and their friends who were eager to please them and be accepted into the cool teenager, hair wax museum. Greasers drove hot cars around our streets and did the splits at teen night dances back then at the community pool. They crossed the ultimate social taboo also: smoking cigarettes around the corner of the elementary school.Image result for greasers pictures Girls oohed and ahhed over  these skinny guys in tight jeans and greasy hair, sneering at social norms. They were bad dudes who probably went on to be roofers and beer truck drivers and bowling alley mechanics. Anyway, they were way too tough for Sweet Sunday School Sue or my future wife to run around with. Not unless you wanted to get whiplash in a G.T.O. doing a burn out on The Parkway with Timmy O’Brian behind the wheel. But I digress as I recall the neighbors who populated those simple three bedroom ramblers back in the day…

The Houcks next door. Mrs. Houck was a Mexican cutie who ran off with a teenaged boy or two for research purposes. The Smiths, lots of drunken evenings when Phyllis ran down the hill to stay at our house overnight while her husband the plumber tried to kill her again. The Emkirs behind us, and the bologna sandwich party where Mr. Emkir came home unexpectedly and beat Eric for a long, long time before air conditioning so the windows were open. The Citchees next behind us, with only child Clancy. What an odd nursing home/ funeral parlor that was. And then the home of Rock n Roll early bird Ronnie Dove. Yep, our local claim to fame’s parents and sons lived there. And it rolled on like a trodden fairway through back yards down the hill, exiting on Berkshire Drive’s curbs and tin pan dramas.Image result for storm drain images

One unfortunate day I took Tommy’s 1 iron in my right eyebrow as I stood in the Coopers’ backyard and saw a shower of blood for a while until six stitches sewn in the Old Alexandria Hospital stopped the flow. Such a notorious war wound, worth a lot of bragging points back then.

So, where were were going again, Sue?  Oh yes, over the cliff.

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479. We didn’t start the Liar

Thinking about our Fabricator in Chief … leads to Billy Joel’s descriptive stream of consciousness song of last century’s history… you remember how it goes, right? My respect and apologies to Mr. Joel. This is a hard scam.

Michael Flynn, go away, Kelly Anne gets to stay
Reince Priebus, Steve Bannon, Scaramucci- GO!!
James Comey, Tommy Price, Can’t avoid the t.v. lights
North Korea, South Korea, Kim Young Man,
Russian trolls, H-Bombs, Nazis march for rebel rights
Jared and Ivanka land, Donald Duck as Peter Pan,

Morning Joe, Brezenski, hits on plastic surgery

Tillerson, Mnuchin, Betsy Ross, Amwaaaaaay

(Melania yawns)

We didn’t start the Liar

He was fully loaded when his mouth exploded

We didn’t start the Liar

No, we couldn’t hide him, but we tried to fight him.

Vlady Putin, Bob Mueller, Nunes in the trees

Trump Towers never bugged no apologies

Russian lawyers, Don junior, but it’s all a hoax

When you’re a star, don’t forget

you never have to coax

Billy Bush, Marla Maples, Little Pocket Man

Thin skinned, comb over, Look at these hands

Pep rallies, screaming mobs, race baiting hating slobs

Alabama, NFL,

Sons of bitches, Easy sell

Kaepernick, such a prick, Roger Goodell

White is good, dark is not

What the Hell have you got

to choose or lose if you’re SHOT?

We didn’t start the Liar

He was fully loaded when his mouth exploded

We didn’t start the Liar

No, we couldn’t hide him, but we tried to fight him.

GOP all in stitches, White House staff

bunch of snitches

Who are the real sons of bitches?

Better not ask

Huckabee paid to sing

No trouble in the West Wing

Hope General Kelly’s up to task

How to curb a ding a ling

We didn’t start the Liar

He was fully loaded when his mouth exploded

We didn’t start the Liar

No, we didn’t hide him, but we tried to fight him.

Coal mines open, borders closed

Air pollution? hold your nose

Tax reform on a postage stamp

More money for the one percent

One thing’s certain and that thing is

Russian hookers took a piss

On the bed where Obama stayed

It’s all in that dossier

We didn’t start the Liar

He was fully loaded when his mouth exploded

We didn’t start the Liar

No, we didn’t hide him, but we tried to fight him.

So much stupid left to share

It’s adult day care

Blame Obama for the drama

Blame reporters anywhere

Breitbart, CNN

it’s disgusting, it’s a sin

But keep on trusting, tune in,

ratings are amazin’

Fox News, New York Times

NBC, bunch of slimes

Build a wall, drain the swamp

Give our allies a good stomp

Crowd size, narcissism

Viral tweeting solipsism

Who’s at State? FBI?

Stick a fork in my eye

Oval Office spinning door

Secret Service going poor

Constitution on the floor

I can’t take it anymore

We didn’t start the Liar

He was fully loaded when his mouth exploded

We didn’t start the Liar

No, we didn’t hide him, but we tried to fight him

In the Senate and the House

Combing files for the louse

Manafort, secret court,

come with us to jail

McCarthy on the podium

Baldwin on point

Can’t wait for SNL

To devastate the joint

Then there’s Pence, no common sense, can he be excused?

Oh my God, what a fraud, Sesssions is recused

McCain says no, gotta go

against Baby Donnie’s pose

Infrastructure, what a cluster,

Regulations no use

Americans in Puerto Rico?

who knew this?

Nambians in the Congo

Now that’s what the truth is

(Melania yawns)

We didn’t start the Liar

He was fully loaded when his mouth exploded

We didn’t start the Liar

No, we couldn’t hide him, but we tried to fight him

Three million bad hombres casting shady votes

Jersey Muslims dancin’ jihads just to get our goats

Trans soldiers pink slipped thank you very much

Christian Right flexed its might, now you’re out of luck

Misogynistic racist tool, do not disturb

Echo chambers messaging set on reverb

Frederick Douglas still alive

Mister Trump C. P. Five

Carli’s face, Marco’s height

Ted Cruz’s ugly wife,

Mar a lago, golf a go go

just can’t get it right

Birther scare, bankruptcies 

then the university

Global warming NATO harming

Flag obscurements

Five deferments


What else do I have to say?

We didn’t start the Liar

He was fully loaded when his mouth exploded

We didn’t start the Liar

No, we couldn’t hide him, but we tried to fight him.

(Melania yawns)










478. Whales. What? Wait!

Image result for rehoboth beach picturesAfter the joy of celebrating Jess’s marriage to Zach, after the 9 months of preparation and deliberations, after the delayed gratifications… my bride and I cruised out of town with little luggage and our bikes in the back of the Honda. To the beach, to the beach. Where I am blogging from a king size bed with the sliding door open to the ocean’s hypnotic sound waves. Boardwalk Plaza, Rehoboth, Hot Pool bubbling downstairs inside and out.  Tension has been transfused out of my brain and body, replaced by liquid tranquility. Yo, it’s October and yesterday we had to wear sunscreen on the beach, 80 degrees with a light breeze. Yet, I still got a mild sunburn. Swimming in the Atlantic Ocean in October? Yep. Beyond all our expectations. Dinner outside last night at a lovely Italian place with my lovely Italian bride, knowing all is well with Jess in Asheville, Grace in Hershey, Erin in Brooklyn. Is this heaven? Peace covers me like caramel on apples in the showcase I strolled by this morning while exercising extreme self control. Riding bikes all around this sleepy town with no concern for traffic, as if the residents were raptured last week and those of us left behind haven’t figured it out yet. We’re still agape at the free parking.

Image result for submarine surfacing picturesNow we did walk the sparsely attended beach, of course, for miles and miles till our legs grew sore. But the most incredible experience was not on the beach or in town; it was 150 yards off the sand. As we walked along I spotted what I thought was a black submarine surface beyond the breaking waves. A “v” shaped plume of mist blew above it, my friends, like a whale, but that could not be. For in all my years of visiting the ocean I had never seen anything closer to a whale than a porpoise or dolphin. I reasoned alone that I’d seen a very large porpoise, but I could not figure out the mist plume. On we walked past fishermen and retired couples glorying in the exceptional weather. Once again I saw a black form rise to the surface without bending and arcing itself down the way that porpoises swim. “I think there is a whale out there”, I observed to my dear wife. “I can’t believe it. I’ve never seen a whale except that time at Sea World. Never in the wild.”

Image result for humpback whales surfacing picturesAgain and again the black shapes rose to the surface and shot a v plume of mist. I experienced cognitive dissonance in vivo not in theory. My senses were telling me I was seeing whales, but my mind kept searching for an alternative answer that matched my limited maritime experience. “I’m gonna ask these fishermen”, I said. Now I am the last person to ask for directions or help, so this was a Big Boy moment for me. I noticed the two fishermen staring intently in the same direction that I had seen the black phantoms.

Image result for saltwater fishermen on shore pictures“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Humpbacks looks like.”

“No kidding. I thought I saw a whale.”

“Whalesssszzz. They don’t usually travel alone.”

I was thrilled to have my cognitive dissonance kicked in the assonance. “Humpbacks!” I blurted out to my bride. “I saw a whale!!”

“Remember the girls used to sing that song?”

“Oh, yeah. I think Jess made it up. Grace on piano, Erin on guitar, Jess on homemade vocals. It was almost as great as their other big hit, ‘This is the Fun Club’.”

“We should make a video and send it to them.”

Image result for humpback whales surfacing pictures“Look!”  A huge head spiraled up out of the water, mouth open, then crashed back out of sight. Wow, an other worldly excitement passed through me, as if I’d seen a polka dotted polar bear swim by.  Then off to the left another black back surfaced, spewing a funnel of mist. Had to be at least two whales, maybe even more. More and more beach goers were taking notice. Out came phones and cameras. On the left at 11:30 a huge head broke the surface like a jet ski rocketing up from the deep. A few minutes later at two o’clock another massive head broke the jade green water and left a white breaker behind its crash.Related image

Majestic. Monstrous. Magical. Meteoric. No word seemed to capture the scene I was witnessing. My mind went to the earliest encounters between men and whales. What would the first witnesses have thought? And the whales? They are sentient creatures. I wonder what they think as they leap and spiral, seemingly at play. They catapult themselves into the atmosphere they cannot inhabit anymore than we humans can inhabit their salt watery realm. I wonder if they get the same sort of charge seeing us in the ocean as we do seeing them burst into the daylight?

Image result for pinocchio and monstro picturesWho knows the answers to these ponderings. Still, in dreams I suppose we can swim with the whales or reside in their bellies like Jonah or Pinnochio. In deepest sleep we cross over into REM slumber, the realm of dreams and deepest rest. For just a few minutes at a time we leave our bodies to rest and recharge, breaking through the cave roof of a deep, holy place. Perhaps it is the cavern of our souls. One thing is certain: you can’t stay there for long. It’s too much, too sweet, too full.Image result for humpback whales surfacing pictures

These great creatures live up to 50 years, though no one has a birth certificate available for any of them. Amazing. They could be having a second honeymoon and grooving along the coastline, just like we are, listening to some Barry White classics, “Oooh, my darling, I can’t get enough of your love, baby girl, I don’t know, I don’t know why, I can’t get enough of your love.” And then, maybe they are simply the huge exclamation point on a fabulous run on sentence. In any event, I suspect love spirals through all the glory, saying simply, “Love one another”.

477. Reflections

Image result for farmhouse reflected in a pond photoIt’s been 36+ years since my wife and I were without a child in the house. Over half our lives ago we began our family in the second floor apartment above the dam behind Scotland School, which is no longer called that. Our little baby girl, whose tiny foot fit into a six ounce teacup in 1981, is a very grown up and accomplished New Yorker now. Her first swimming pool was a five gallon bucket in which she joyously jumped up and down while ignoring the vista of a hog farm and train track behind our rented house in Five Forks, still called that and still not a Michelin restaurant. Her first doll was a Miss Lolly Dolly that was pink and white checked with a pink hat and dress. She carried it around as she toddled and then walked skillfully across the side yard while Coco the sheltie collie with nine lives circled about. Image result for miss lolly dolly pictures

We were all so young then. You can do the math. Shiny hair, thin, vigorous…never imagining our hair colored, our figures plumped or our stamina fatigued.

Image result for wedding couple picturesToday we are loading all the decorations for my youngest daughter’s wedding tomorrow, the tulle, and balloons, and up lights, and decorative screens that have overtaken our basement for the last six months. This is her last day living here. Tomorrow she leaves the nest and we stay behind, happily I trust. First, because she is marrying a wonderful guy. Second, because my bride and I have a lot more life to share together.

Just like when my grandkids and middle daughter moved out in late August, there will be rearranging and a new order to find, less noisy and drippy and busy; we will find a new order in the weeks ahead. More freedom awaits, more choices, more joy.Image result for vigorous older couples riding bikes pictures

I don’t want to wax sentimental or melancholy. I feel neither today. Rather, it’s a positive expectation of the next exciting thing. I am at heart an optimist. I believe things will work out eventually, and my life reflects this pattern. When we married, my wife and I had nothing but our wet behind the ears educations, not even a car. We rode ten speed bikes around Richmond. Borrowed a friend’s car for the justice of the peace ceremony in a dark courtroom downtown. Never imagined owning a house, let alone paying it off. Never imagined children, loving and accomplished. Never imagined having new vehicles or money in savings after the bills were paid. However, I never ruled those out.  Instead, I left the door open for blessings and fortune to come in.

What I do know is that fear and loathing have never worked for me. They shrink life into a defensive foxhole within a bunker inside a medieval fortress. Sure, most perceived risks are outside the citadel, but the worst enemies a man has reside between his ears and the ventricles of his metaphorical heart.Image result for unabomber pictures of man and box Just ask Ted Kaczynski if he is still alive. You remember the Unabomber, right? He was so hurt and enraged at the wicked world he perceived out there that he retreated to a box, completely off the grid of modern society, to craft nearly perfect letter bombs which killed and maimed innocent victims. His Ph.D in pure mathematics from the finest universities in the USA, I suppose, never failed him when human beings did. I imagine he saw the inevitable decline of civilization that could only be saved by his manifesto and strategic bombs aimed at universities and airlines. Well, fear and hate never do win; they just inflate themselves in sleight of hand deception. When we give in to fear, the dark gets darker, the recession gets worse; the madman gets more powerful… they surge upward on the breath of our fear.Image result for ursula from little mermaid pictures

So faith must be pivotal and critical. “We’ll just see what tomorrow brings” is an affirmation that there is a tomorrow, and depending on the tone one declares it, can be positively inspiring. How we could build our house was a daunting challenge.Then furnish it. Landscape and more. Oh, and where will we ever get the money for the kids’ college? One discombobulating what if was followed by another paralyzing what if? We kept moving forward not shrinking back, however. “We’ll just see what tomorrow brings.”Image result for highly anxious faces

Increased prices and salaries were hard to fathom, but our advanced educations seemed to more than pay for themselves. Though we were both in human services careers, we did not suffer greatly for it. Perhaps living in rural Pennsylvania insulated us from exorbitant price gouging and plantation wages. What I know is that with financial planning advice, we began to save a little bit; to refinance our 11%  1985 mortgage rate; to avoid plastic and to pay down old debts before acquiring new ones. Basic stuff, not exotic or sexy investing.Related image

Now, the money is there for my daughter’s wedding; but more importantly validated faith is in abundance. Back in the darkest darkness my girl Jess was lonely and desperate to be loved by a good man. Her desire was palpable in an E Harmony kind of way. Tomorrow seemed empty and arid, a place to wait for disappointments and then death. She tried to make something happen, but nothing good happened. She watered the concrete with her tears hoping for roses to spring up.Image result for roses growing out of concrete

And then through the most unlikely set of barely touching dominoes, a loving relationship was discovered and nurtured, as the gentle collisions played out. The tiles fell not into chaos but into a unique lovely order with God’s fingerprints all around. Unlike the breath of fear, the breath of faith is comforting; it ripples the still waters of one’s soul saying, “You were not, are not, and never will be alone.”Image result for wind ripples on a still lake pictures

So, let’s get the rest of the wedding props into the cars and see what tomorrow brings.