The Marshall Fire In Boulder County, Colorado

 

It was just after 11:00 this morning when TW mention that the smell of smoke was coming from the front of the store. I made my way to the front entrance and this is what I saw - smoke from a grass fire that was burning roughly a quarter-mile from the showroom.

As I was looking across the parking lot towards the grass fire, a large plume of smoke suddenly filled the sky. "This can't be good" was the first thought that popped into my head.

Ten minutes later the smoke began to fill the sky. The wind was gusting somewhere between 60 to 80 mph, blowing debris all over the parking lot. The store reverberated with the sounds of objects hitting or tumbling over the roof.

 

The wind seemed to be pushing the fire northwest, away from the showroom, which momentarily lead me to believe we would not be in any danger.

That opinion changed within seconds - the wind was not driving the fire to the northwest - it was a swirling wind, and it was pushing the fire in every direction. That's when the decision was made to get out of there.

We evacuated as fast as we could, joining what had to be the entire population of the town of Superior as well as the entire population of the city of Louisville in a frantic caravan east to safety. It took almost thirty minutes just to get from the parking lot to the intersection of West Dillon and Wadsworth.

The fire has grown into the most destructive in the history of the state of Colorado. I have no idea if the store is still intact or if it's been burned to the ground, but from all the reports I'm seeing on the internet and television, there is little hope.

Two Researchers Meet In A Bar

   One afternoon two old friends meet up for drinks. Both of them are medical researchers who have been engaged in trying to find a cure for CoVid-19.

   One of the researchers says, "Lately, for the riskier drug combinations, we've been using lawyers as test subjects."

   The other researcher responds, "Really? We're still using animals, mostly rats. Why are you using lawyers?"

   "Well," her friend replies, "You know how it goes - it's hard not to get attached to the rats."  

Whistling Under Water

One hundred to four hundred billion stars in this galaxy known as the Milky Way (estimates vary...understandably).

And two hundred trillion (give or take a few million) other galaxies in the known universe.

On this one planet tens of thousands (reasonably, a few hundred thousand), writers of speculative fiction have written stories about possibilities regarding the planets that revolve around the billions and billions of stars that comprise this galaxy...and some of those writers have probably written a few about the planets that revolve around the countless stars in the other two hundred trillion galaxies.

Rehash of a rehash of a rehash...getting difficult to come up with anything that can be remotely considered original. 

Unless of course you change the ethnicity and gender of the major players (Somewhere in Hollywood ears are starting to prick up...)

In Remembrance Of A Life Well Lived

This past Monday, the 27th, the world lost a good man. 

A man I only knew through the words he wrote, and through the words others wrote about him.

His name was Andrew Vachss, he was notably a lawyer, a writer, and a children's rights advocate.

I came to know of Mr Vachss by reading the books and articles he wrote, books of fiction that brought to light, or better yet, exposed, horrible crimes and the horrible people who perpetrate them.

There's not much I can write here that is any different from what you will be able to read in any number of obituaries that will be published to mark his passing.

Except to say that Mr Vachss opened my eyes as to what it meant to be a victim of abuse, and who the real heroes were among the survivors.

The Qualified Applicant

   A large company posts a help wanted add that requests all applicants be able to type at least 70 words a minute, be fluent in at least one foreign language, have a pleasant phone voice, and take accurate dictation.

   To the surprise of the HR Director a Chocolate Lab is the first applicant to show up Monday morning. The HR director, knowing that she cannot turn away any applicant, proceeds to interview the Chocolate Lab.

   After twenty minutes the HR Director is extremely impressed. "Wow, " she says, "you are very well qualified. You type 100 words a minute mistake free, your phone skills are incredible, and you are a master of the lost art of shorthand. However, being able to converse in at least one other language is essential. What foreign languages do you speak?"

   "Meow," replies the Chocolate Lab.

The Christmas Dilemma Of The Christian Man With The Jewish Girlfriend

 "Bernie," Gordon started. "You have got to help me out. I had no idea what to get Erica for Christmas and when I asked her what she wanted for Christmas just two weeks ago, she told me that she didn't want anything - that us just being together was all she really needed for Christmas. So naturally I didn't get her anything. This morning at breakfast she handed me a gift and said "Merry Christmas," and sat there staring at me like I was supposed to hand her a gift too...and now, well, now I'm here in a coffee shop on the afternoon of Christmas day trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong."

"My friend, your problem is a simple one. You are an idiot."

Bernie had never been one for sugercoating.

"Thank you Rabbi Grossfeld. Succinct as usual. Look Bernie, you're my only Jewish friend and Erica's Jewish, sorta, and I figure you must have some insight here. Help a brother out!"

Bernie laughed and smiled at his friend Gordon. "You think I have any better idea of what that woman's about simply because we both have Jewish families? That is funny. Throw out any illusion you may have that I understand Jewish women any better than you simply because I'm Jewish too."

"C'mon, Bern, you and Kate have the best relationship of any couple I know - you have to know a helluva lot more than I do."

 Gordon looked at his friend Bernie with as much desperate pleading as he could muster.

"That Kate and I have a reasonably harmonious relationship is due to all the work my parents and her parents did to ensure we would be compatible before we ever even met- and then, after we met, we got lucky, each of us finding the other attractive and fun to be with. That's all."

"What? Gordon said a little incredulously. "You and Kate have an arranged marriage?"

Bernie paused a few beats before responding. "Not like you are assuming we do, no. Our meeting each other was arranged, yes, but we had a fairly standard courtship before we eventually decided we should get married. But both Kate and I, and more importantly our families, are far more orthodox than your Erica is."

"What the heck difference does being orthodox have to do with anything? What does that even mean? Is there some sort of book of procedures and protocols I should be following because I'm dating a Jewish woman?"

Gordon looked and felt more confused than ever.

"Gordon, explaining Jewish mating rituals to your Goy ass is not easy. Do you remember my last year in college, when I first started dating? My Aunt Miriam kept prodding me with requests to meet with the single daughters of her friends and co-workers, all of them guaranteed to be the woman I was always meant to be with? Do you remember that?"

"Yeah, man, we all thought it was odd you didn't date until your senior year, but you know, don't ask don't tell. And that Aunt of yours was something else. Didn't she end up marrying Professor Seldon?"

Bernie smirked. "She did, but that's beside the point I'm trying to make here. See, dating for Jews is not quite the same as it is for Gentiles, especially not for orthodox Jews. Jewish men don't just go up to women in bars or bowling alleys and ask a woman they find attractive out for drinks and hope for a good time. A single Jewish person, male or female, kind of gets directed toward people to date that a member of their family, or even a family friend, has done a little research on and believes to be worthy of dating and maybe even marriage."

"Whoa - you are set up with women to date with the idea that marriage is already in the picture?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Bernie replied. "But bear in mind it's only expected if you keep dating - if there's no connection after the first date, then there's no point in dating further, you see?"

"Huh," was all Gordon could answer.

"However, that was not the deal with you and Erica." Bernie drummed his fingers on the small table before continuing.

 "Erica, as you said is only 'sorta Jewish'. You're Catholic, or more accurately, 'sorta Catholic', at least that's your family religion. On top of that, you're both the American variant. That makes a huge difference in the way you approach both your respective religions and dating." 

"Why, because we don't let ancient traditions and religious edicts dictate how we live our lives?" Gordon said this nonchalantly but not with any intentional irreverence.  

"Yes, and no." Bernie paused feeling a little frustrated himself. "Think about this - four, or was it five? years ago you bought that Chevy Silverado. You bugged the crap out of everyone telling us all about the other trucks you were considering. You test drove twelve different trucks, looked up reviews in a bunch of different magazines, and then made a decision only when there was a zero interest offer available. Remember that?"

"Of course I do, " Gordon said, "I like to buy a vehicle I know will last me at least 10 years without costing me a fortune."

"Ah," Bernie intoned, "But still you don't know much more about that truck you bought than you do the other ones you test drove, do you? I mean, you don't know that truck like a mechanic would, do you? You looked for what you considered the best deal on a truck you liked that you felt sure was a good deal, right? You catch what I'm getting at here?"

"What, that maybe I rushed into a relationship with Erica too quickly, that maybe I wouldn't be in a coffee shop in the middle of the afternoon on Christmas day if I'd done a little more research into Erica's background?'

Bernie slumped his shoulders a little. "Not quite, but yeah. The both of you of may have rushed a little too quickly into a relationship and the both of you probably could have delved far more into each other's background, that's no-brainer stuff, but that's not really my point and most importantly, no longer here nor there, at least not if you want to get things patched up with Erica."

"Well then what are you talking about?"

"I'm not sure. I think I'm trying to tell you that Erica being Jewish is not the issue, and neither is the fact that you two got together without the benefit of knowing anything about each other. I think I'm trying to tell you that Erica is a woman, and women, like men, sometimes say and do things that are contradictory. I'm also maybe trying to say that you should know by now that if a woman tells you she doesn't want anything in the way of a present, then you probably would be well served to have a present ready just in case she is in fact expecting a present."

"And that's going to help me how?" 

Bernie looked at his now empty cup of coffee and then at Gordon. "Again, I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure you should be talking to Erica about this though, and not me. Anyway, Kate is expecting me soon - we're exchanging gifts - we're not trying to bridge the gap between Jews and Gentles, we just like to give each other gifts, just to say we appreciate each other. It's just coincidence we do it during the Christmas Holidays."

Bernie smiled as he got up to leave. "Catch my drift?"

What Sort Of Monster...

 ...would think that the world needs an Ultra Quiet bathroom fan? The bathroom is the one room in any building that literally demands a LOUD fan. 

Very loud.

Jokes My Neighbor's Eight Year-Old Has Told Me

 What's large and grey and puts out forest fires?
Smokey the Elephant

 What's the difference between peanut butter and an elephant?
You don't know? That's the last time I ask you to make me a sandwich!

 What's the difference between snowmen and snowwomen?
Snowballs

 What do you do with a six foot kangaroo?
Make a lot of kangaroo stew

You have to laugh at kid jokes, BTW, even if they are the same kid jokes you told when you were a kid.

The One True Leaf

 Found a leaf pressed between the pages of a book I picked up at a local church charity garage sale. A couple of things I pondered regarding the leaf:

Is there a significance between the leaf and the book in which it was discovered (In The First Circle by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn)?

Was it the leaf that was significant to whoever put it there, or was it something written on one (or both) of the pages it separated?

Or was it just the thickness of the book that made it the final resting place of this leaf (Over 700 pages, a heavy read)?

Making The Best Of The Worst

 A man with a distressed appearance walks into a pub and takes a seat at the bar.

The bartender slides over and says, "Evening Mac, looks like you've had a rough day. What can I get you to help ease the load?"

"Whiskey neat - make it a double, make it top shelf."

The bartender reaches for a Japanese 12 year-old single malt and proceeds to nearly top off a rocks glass with it. He presents it to the man, stating, "Here you go, it's $200.00 a shot though - that'll be $400.00."

The man hands over an American Express Black Card and tells the bartender to keep the tap open.

This gets the attention of a gorgeous woman who sidles over to the man sipping the expensive whiskey. She sits next to him and asks "Are you in the mood for company? You look like you could use some company - my names Daphne."

The man politely takes her proffered hand and replies, "I'm Alex. My Doctor just told me I have maybe 8 hours to live, kind of a bombshell."

"Oh my," Daphne gasps, "That is horrible! You can't tell me you intend to spend your last hours sipping expensive whiskey? You should be with your family and friends."

"No family and friends to speak of," Alex states. "Been alone for a long time now, got used to it."

"Wow," Daphne says, "How sad. Do you want me to leave you alone?"

Alex gives Daphne a long, appreciative gaze and answers, "No, no I do not. Truth be told I would really like to take you across the street to that hotel, check into a suite, and spend my last hours making passionate love to you."

Daphne stares back at Alex for what feels like an eternity and finally says, "That could possibly be the kindest, most unselfish, most humane thing I've ever done in my life. Get your card back from the bartender and let's go." 

Within minutes they are ensconced in a luxurious suite and proceed to make love with nearly bed-breaking fervor. 

After they have finished Alex looks over at Daphne and tells her, "That was incredible, beyond anything I've ever experienced. If it's not too much I'd like to do that again in a few minutes."

Ten minutes later they are at it again, this time with a vigor and passion that surprises each of them. Both of them are physically drained afterward and they lay next to one another in contented silence.

Daphne, exhausted physically and emotionally, has almost drifted off to sleep when Alex nudges her. "I think," he says, 'I can manage one more go 'round. What do you think?"

Exasperated, Daphne responds, "That may be easy for you to say, but some of us have to be at work early tomorrow!"

Kicked In The Teeth By The Failure Of The World To End

 Economically speaking, the world was supposed to come to a screeching halt at midnight on December 31st, 1999.

Every computer, those devices that keep track of, tabulate, and run just about everything, was supposed to go tits up, kablooie, pop, snapple and kerflunkle.

But it did not happen, much to my dismay. 

I really would have liked to have read in the paper that every record from the Jr. High School I attended had been erased, deleted, lost to the sands of time.

I would have especially liked to have seen my second semester report card for ninth grade permanently deleted.

Nothing about that document is worth anyone's attention, but it nags at me that I got a "D" in an art class.

Some things I just can't shake.

Winds Of Perspective

 

Wind gusts that ranged from 40 to 60mph tore through Lakewood yesterday (in some areas of the Denver metro area 80 to 100mph winds were reported).

Trees were knocked down and the power was out for 10 hours in the neighborhood where I reside.

Pales compared to what happened to Mayfield Kentucky just a week ago.

Perspective adjusted indeed.

Retail Clerks & Retail Humor

 Navigating the big box stores can be a little bit of a challenge, now with the ugly combo of CoVid-19 and the concurrent restrictions, the lack of adequate staffing created by such, and the holiday shopping in full swing.

The problem is especially tiresome when it comes to bookstores, though the advent of the internet has made it extremely easy to find even the rarest or esoteric of titles, it's also taken the fun out of perusing through shelves lined with books, that glorious aroma of printed paper and unwashed fellow perusers filling the air.

Which is why I made my way to the Barnes & Noble located in the Denver West Village shopping center (so much more than a shopping center...it's a shopping village).

Upon entering the store I was greeted by a friendly clerk who proceeded to ask me if there was anything in particular that I was shopping for. Thinking of the little book that I felt RL would definitely find useful, I asked to be be pointed to the self-help section.

To which the clerk pointedly replied, "Well now, giving you directions to the self-help section would be self-defeating, no?"

Good ol' Fashion Back Window Advice

 

The Routine

 It was another argument over the same old crap, just like the last one. 

She brought up every single time he'd disappointed her, he returned the favor.

The straw came when she shouted, "You never finish anything! You are always making excuses for never getting anything you start done! You are the almighty king of procrastination!"

"Oh yeah?!" He yelled back. "You just wait, you'll see, you just wait!"

Mumblin' Jim & The STP Queen

Mumblin' Jim rode the late trains to stay warm 

Dodging the ever-present transit polis by disappearing 

Silently between the worn out seats

On a particularly cold Tuesday he accidentally 

Slid like a kid into the STP Queen 

Head first with a practiced burst

Had a few sips to slake her thirst

She wasn't at first altogether keen 

With his rude disruption of her scene 

But mellowed out when she saw he wasn't being mean

Just a dope on the rails 

Trying to tip the scales 

In his favor as he dodged the chemtrails 

That rained down from the heavens 

Like devilish elevens 

Or burnt toast angelfish sevens

Crawling out from underneath 

The post-modern power pop rock crap 

That sprung from the ruins of the venerated classic 

Tick tock boot strap kick trap

With a snare on beats 2 or 4 

Followed by the pathetic majestic synthetic 

Fanfare dripping from the fingertips of the burly girly man             Demanding to see his ride fare

And when they locked eyes, bloodshot 

Sunken in their pocket wall sockets 

Spent of all fuel like a staggering runner

Crossing the finish line after the tattoo'd machine gunner 

Who had failed in his humorous attempts to spin her 

Which only served to pique his curiosity 

And fuel her gulosity to devour him voraciously 

He himself taken aback by the Queen's 

Titillating multitrack and rapid-fire gimcrack 

Quickly taking stock of the massive probability factors 

Involved in such an unlikely chance meeting of actors 

Involved in staged plays occurring on different days 

In separate venues, quite a ways away

From the space they now shared in the maze

That was almost always bereft of cheese at the end

If you can dig it, man

They knew then it must be part of a plan

Or a random happenstance, misunderstood but grand

Either way they made the most, as it were

Engrossed with each other's bedpost demeanor

Neither wanting to waste the other's favor

Possibly A Harbinger, Maybe A Portent

 

There Is A Certain Pronounced Joy About Dining Alone

 The restaurant was busy, the tables seemed to be spilling over with patrons. Every seat at the bar was taken as well, and not by drinkers, by diners.

The food was that good.

The strictly business hostess with the closely-cropped red hair (dye job) caught his attention with what could only be described as a curt smile. She did not welcome him to the establishment - she offered no greeting, warm or otherwise. She just looked at him, expectantly.

"Hi." He proffered. "Table for one please."

"One?" She questioned. "Are you eating by your lonesome tonight?"

"Not by my lonesome by any stretch - just alone."

The hostess starred at him for a long second, then said, "Uhm, okaay, alone. Just the one."

He looked at her as if she was now figuring out the punchline to a joke she heard yesterday. 

"Yes," He stated, "the singular joy of enjoying a great meal without distracting banter or constant interruptions." 

A small smile formed on her face as she scanned the laminated floorplan that had been taped to the small dias that served as her command and control center. "I have a small table in the far back, over here. The second chair was poached by a table sitting seven. It's by the galley door."

"That would be perfect," He replied. "Perfect."

"Follow me," She said over her shoulder as she grabbed a menu and turned toward the main dining room.

"Gladly" was his unheard reply.

 

Walking Along A Uruguayan Beach At Sunset

 The dream is sharp and well-defined. 

Tall, lanky, sunburnt, wearing nothing but shorts and a pair of sandals, walking across the rather wonky dipsy-do surface of the La Barra bridge towards the coast to spend the afternoon taking in more sun than necessary.

Beach chair? Check. Sun Block? Check. Prescription shades? Check. A copy of Surdoval's "Double Nickels" to read? Check.

Wings Of Change

 

"Wings of Change" Metal sculpture by Douwe Blumberg, 2008

What Do You Wish You Were Taught When You Were A Kid?

 This was a question I overheard as I was eating breakfast. It was asked by one of a group of older adults (by that I mean older than me) who were sitting at the table next to mine. 

Six people, four men, two women, all over sixty if a day. Probably all over 70.

I was playing a game (Words With Friensds2) on my phone when the question was poised (I had two U's, two E's, an A, an I, and an S. Barf.), and I picked up my ears when I heard it. If I have learned one thing over the course of my life it's that old people know stuff worth listening too, especially when it comes to life lessons.

Some of you may be shaking your heads thinking that's what Grandparents, Aunts & Uncles, and your Parents are for, but I never had any Grandparents, Aunts or Uncles, and only one parent - who was much too busy just trying to keep us all alive to be ruminating with us kids about life lessons.

So I eavesdropped for almost an hour, lingering over the bacon as if I wasn't too hungry (no easy feat, believe you me).

Everyone of the people sitting at that table chimed in with answers. I got the impression that none of them had grown up together - I think the oldest reference to a couple of them passing up the same good advice was when two of them discussed an economics class they took together in college.

They all seemed to agree that, generally speaking, they all wished they had been taught how money works, and how important it was to save for the future.

I made a mental note about that and how common the lack of an education in money matters was in just about everyone I know. Heck, I didn't even know how to rate a stock until I was in my late twenties, early thirties (and still really don't believe I actually know - I just tell myself I do when I make my paltry monthly purchase online).

The one thing that caught me off guard and really turned my ears was when one of the group of six stated she wished she'd been taught how to raise her kids before she had them.

The fact that everyone else at the table agreed with her made it all the more startling.

Self-Fulfilling Inaction

Never had a dream he would never realize

Never had an ideal he would never live up to

Never had a goal he would fall short of

Never had a hero who would let him down in the end

All he ever wanted to do 

Was to survive

All he ever wanted to do

Was to get by

All he ever wanted to do

Was to not have to actually try

And wouldn't you know, that's exactly how it worked out

Dance Like Thing 1984

 He leaned against the wall and stared across the room trying to make out the faces and figures of the girls sitting at the various tables. He was hoping she would be here tonight and wanting to dance. 

He was also hoping that tonight he'd find the cojones to ask her to dance.

It could happen he thought as he peered about the room. He actually might, possibly, ask her to dance tonight, and they actually might, possibly, dance together. 

Maybe to that Fixx song he knew she liked, which would be fitting if not ironic.

He took a swig out of the glass of water that had been getting warm in his hand. His drink of choice had always been water whenever he went out - alcohol always made him feel vulnerable and he hated that feeling.

He continued to glance about the room but to no avail. He was either too early or too late. He argued with himself as to whether he should leave or give it a bit longer, or just ask someone else to dance.

The DJ had played a couple of slow songs, Air Supply's hit from last year and that Calypso sounding song from that chick who had been in ABBA. He hated slow songs, and hated watching people dance to slow songs. The couples who weren't wrapped around each other all danced as if they were stumbling through a dense fog, in circles, with their eyes glued to either the ceiling or the floor.

Then the syncopated beats of Chaz Jankel's Questionaire flooded out of the huge speakers and engulfed the room. He quickly looked around as couples untangled and for the most part left the dance floor. He caught sight of a girl who looked to be lingering a bit, as if deciding whether or not she wanted to stay out on the floor to dance to the song, and quickly walked over to her.

"Hey, dance with me," he nearly shouted. "I love this song!" 

The two made their way to the center of the dance floor and started dancing amongst a group of 8 to 10 other people who had been likewise moved by the song. The kid smiled as he moved with the girl, and she smiled right back at him.

"This," he thought, "might turn out to be a good night after all." 

First December Sunrise, Lakewood