The Letter & The Reply

      He explained carefully and in no uncertain terms his position. The words he selected clearly detailed why they had to proceed as they must. There could be no doubt whatsoever, at least not in the mind of anyone sane and rational, that the course of action he was outlining was the best for them both. His intention was not mean-spirited nor was it hasty. The timing was perfect.

   Except it wasn't and when he really considered the situation he realized that the timing could never be right for what must be done. He wished he knew how to soft-pedal the decision, make it less painful, but there was no real way to make it more palatable, no matter the timing.

   So he braced himself for the worst. He would not be a coward about it - he would hand the missive to her directly and he would stay while she read the words he hoped beyond hope she would understand without disappointment or worse, acrimony.

   He carefully reread the eight pages, looking for errors in spelling or grammar. Lord knows he didn't want to distract her attention from the matter at hand with run-on sentences or too many prepositional phrases. 

   After the third rereading of the letter he carefully folded the pages and placed them in the envelope. Then he stood up and walked out of the small study, down the long hall and out onto the balcony, where she was relaxing on a lounge chair while sipping a cup of tea.

   He handed her the sealed envelope and as she took it she asked, "What is this? Did the mail arrive early today?"

   With as serious a countenance as he could muster, he replied, "No. It is from me, and I would like you to read it now, if you wouldn't mind."

   Setting down her tea she opened the envelope and removed the pages. Unfolding the pages she quickly and deliberately read the painstakingly written words. When she finished she refolded the pages, replaced them in the envelope and set it down on the small table next to the tea.

   Looking up at him she smiled in that unnerving manner that she had perfected by the end of their first year of marriage. He knew her response was too quick for her to be able to claim that she had given the matter anything remotely close to "careful consideration".

   "Mi Corazon", she said, and instantly he knew he was defeated. "For the final time the plans are already set, reservations made and deposits paid. We are not going to Legoland for our anniversary this year, we are going to Saint Lucia. Get that through your adorable head. Oh, and you misspelled disagreeable. There are two e's".

War Surplus, 1947

 

Second row of items from the bottom, on your left.

Stills. War surplus stills. Ostensibly to purify water.

Only $59.50 - might as well buy two.

The Icy Road Carelessly Traveled

 

The tire tracks tell one helluva story. The driver likely overcorrected after the car spun out of control on the icy road and careened over the sidewalk and up the slight rise of the perimeter berm in front of the strip mall, somehow managing to avoid hitting the big tree on the right and the For Lease sign on the left...before crashing into (and taking out the left side of) the small wooden enclosure where the trash cans are kept.

The car then came to rest in the parking lot without hitting either the lamp pole or the metal post with the No Parking sign attached to it that are both right next to where the left side of the trash can enclosure had been.

The question is...was the driver extremely skilled or extremely lucky?

Turning The Conversation On

 If you are in a situation such as family gathering or a work group meeting that has stalled out and everyone around you has started looking at the ceiling tiles or their shoes, here are a couple of surefire ways to get the conversational ball rolling again.

1) Loudly state that something clearly preposterous is true but the government has been covering it up (i.e., Aliens have been visiting Earth for years, kidnapping people and cows).

or...

2) Loudly proclaim that something obviously true is a fraud being perpetuated by the government (i.e., Jet contrails are not the result of water condensation, they are clouds of chemicals being used to make us blindly obedient to the government).

You could probably think of a hundred or so more examples of both, all of which are guaranteed to stir the pot and bring out the best in family, friends and random strangers.

Avoiding Attendance At Going Away Parties

   Is there anything not-quite-sad but also not-quite-happy as a going away party? 

   Admittedly, it's been a few years since I have attended one even though there have been several times over those same past few years when my presence was requested at a party of that nature. 

   However, I can still remember how I felt at the last going away party I attended.

   It sucked.

   I guess I just don't like saying goodbye to people, even if the people in question are simply casual acquaintances.

  Heck, if the going away party is for someone I know well and like a lot, well then it's going to make for a good ol' melancholy time. Chances are I'll get all syrupy-sappy bringing up all the good times we used to have and so on and so forth.

   And that is not a good thing to have to bear witness to.

   No one needs to have to deal with me getting all cranky-pants melancholy, so as a general rule, I dodge going away parties like the Baseball HOF dodges Steve Garvey.

   Besides, in this day and age of the Internet and unlimited texting and calling, no one ever really goes away - they just get a new zip code and maybe a different time zone.

Momentarily Frozen Moments

 

   Some moments are frozen in time for eternity. Those are the moments that exist perpetually in memory as if they happened only yesterday. Maybe it's something extremely personal such as a first kiss or the day a bitter divorce was finalized. 

   Or maybe it's something that is shared on a universal scale, such as 911 or the collapse of the USSR.

   Whatever the case may be, for many the exact moment a particularly happy moment or painful tragedy happened, or when a history-altering event occurred, can be of such great significance that even the slightest reference to it can bring smiles or tears.

   There is no doubt someone, somewhere, has studied this phenomena, from both the perspective of those who cannot forget and from that of those who fail to remember.

   For there are indeed people to whom nothing has ever happened that is stuck in their memory, being either of a deeply personal or of a more general nature.

   It is strange to consider, at least for me, that there are people who have no significant memories, but they do exist - I've met and known a few people who have made that claim.

   It strikes me as odd and somewhat unforgettable when I encounter such people.

   

Engulfed By The Malaise

Sits at home doing nothing, dreaming about the past

Walls covered with beautiful pictures, sees only the cracks

Tells himself life has been cruel, deserves to wallow in regret

Cannot grasp its too early for the eulogy, a world still awaits

Turned away from family and friends, can't understand why no-one calls 

Doesn't believe he needs anyone, least not anyone he can recall

Content to curse the fates, damns existence as a callous joke 

Televised propaganda feeds his apathy, every single day

Talking points as an appetizer, suspicion smothered in hate as the entrée

Eyes no longer see colors, paints the world in shades of gray

Heaping Handfuls Of Snow

 

Free! All the snow you could possibly want! Bring your own truck and maybe a helper or two - can provide shovels if needed.

First come first served, limited time offer.

Back In The Day When Air Bands Were A Thing

      Tim Decker in back playing air drums, Mike Tankersley playing a hockey stick Bass, Pete Sukovoty on the T-Square guitar, Chris Long (nka Bakunas) mimes the vocals... 

     Back in the 1980's when the knees were still good and fast food could be consumed without guilt, air bands became a thing among the crowd I associated. Air bands and air guitar were experiencing a surge in public expression at the time - I suspect it was the popularity of MTV that was behind the revival. 

   I say revival because playing air guitar had been a thing for quite some time in the U.S. and Europe (heck, Joe Cocker had played air guitar on stage at Woodstock), so we were not doing anything new - people had been air-conducting orchestras since the first phonographs had been introduced, and air piano players probably were around in the days of Mozart and Beethoven. 

   The only new aspect of what we were doing was that it was new to us, and had been thrust into the public eye. So, like millions of other kids our age, we were unashamedly enjoying the hell out of it.

   One night Tim, Mike, Pete, and I got the idea that we could compete in an Air Band contest that was being held at Willy's Bar, a small dance club along U.S. route 70 about halfway between the base we were all stationed at and the small town of Alamogordo.

   We devoted all of 30 minutes practicing our act (a pantomime of the Violent Femmes song "Add It Up") and then headed out for the contest.

   We took second to a woman who performed as Stevie Nicks (without an air guitar or an air band, which we thought should have disqualified her...).

 

Better For Your Sanity To Just Drink In The View Without Thought

 

Milestones In Watercooler Advertisement

 

   Is there any modern convenience more underappreciated than the humble watercooler? Not only does it perform exactly as described in the above advertisement (circa late 1940's) but it also aided in the development of herd-immunity against a wide variety of easily transmittable ailments such as the common cold and the everyday, non world economy destroying flu.

   Oh sure there were a few casualties due to some of those sharing the viruses that could be spread via mutual watercooler use not developing the life-saving immunity one would hope for, but that's one of those unavoidables that the statisticians chalk up as "Collateral Damage."

   Another often overlooked bonus is, once artificial fluoridation of water began (1950's and 1960's in the U.S.), the availability of not only clean water but water treated to reduce tooth decay / cavities that was readily available in the work place from watercoolers lead to bigger and brighter smiles, which in turn lead to the average person smiling in photos instead of sitting for a photographer all grim-faced and such.

Slapping Something Together In A Professional Manner

   There is, for reasons far, far beyond the keen of my intellect, a desire within to build something. 

   I'm not really sure what that something is.

   It might be something useful, or it might be something purely decorative. Maybe it'll be a combination of the two - a beautiful to look at functional...something.

   If I was still living on the coast, I might consider building a boat - I've always wanted to build a boat, ever since I was...I don't know, maybe ten or so. Boats are just cool. I'm not talking a big boat of course, a 10 or 15 foot flat-bottom rowboat would do, or possibly a small sailboat - a single masted job.

   But I don't live on the coast, so I have to think more along the lines of building a small model train set or a bookcase, perhaps.

   I'll have to mull this over a bit. 

The Vivid & Persuasive Portrayal Of Products And Services

 

   The picture above is from a magazine published about 84 years ago, in June of 1939. That would be considered pre-war as September 1st 1939 is the cited date for the onset of WWII.

   According to the copy, the depiction of the pre-nuclear Nuclear Family of two parents with two children gathered around a radio (a very nice radio at that) "stirs imagination and creates a vision in which heart appeal is uppermost."

   Considering unemployment in the United States was over 15% that year (it had hit 19% in 1938), Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath had just been published, and Federal expenditures (which had been 3% in 1929, prior to the onset of the Great Depression) had risen to 40%, and would climb fantastically to 128% in a few short years due to WWII...that is one optimistic advertisement.

 

Little Butchie Boy, 2010 - 2023

                                                  Butch, November 2010 - January 2023

   Little Butchie drew his last breath last night. He had been a faithful, joyful companion to me and everyone (except rabbits, and squirrels. and anything that he thought resembled a rabbit or squirrel).

   Butch was given to me by the father of my dear friend JPH a few months after JPH had been killed by an impaired driver. He was a living reminder of JPH and all the great times we had shared. 

   Butch was half Jack Russell Terrier and half Border Terrier - Border Jacks they call 'em. High energy, alert, inquisitive cute little monsters that are a joy to be around.

   He was as smart as a whip and cute and as fearless as they come. He and the big cat Larry learned to get along and even shared the same big round pet bed without complaint from one or the other.

   He is now at play in Elysium fields, chasing rabbits and squirrels and jumping as high as kites fly.

   He will be missed.

   

Writing What The Heart Compels...No, Really

   The Ethiopian doom-folk metal band was rehearsing in the garage while the basketball playing Leprechauns' were fighting their way through dense jungle camouflage 

   Not in anyway distracted by the thirty-four suntanned beauties languishing on the balcony that overlooked the mirage that had been created by the Mayor who could be seen straddling the teardrop fender of an old beat-up Dodge

   Holding a mai-tai and wearing a shirt specifically chosen to accentuate his toughman image by the careful use of the highly stylized calligraphic rendering of the words "One Tough Hombre" wrapped around a dead corsage

   Emblazoned on the front and back, much like the cut and torn pieces of a decollage, to the delight of the esteemed members of the world council governing symbols of status, and much to the chagrin of the international alliance against artificial aspirations.

Partially Disintegrated Blizzard Driven Undercurrent

 

Breaking Up In The Nick Of Time

She certainly wasn't looking for a long-term thing

Just wanted to pass the time

With someone agreeable, pleasant to look at, maybe funny

And not too clingy

He was adverse to commitment, made him feel owned

Just wanted to pass the time

With someone good-natured, attractive, maybe sarcastic

And not too clingy

They spent at least a day each week enjoying each other

It was all charm, wit and happiness

Best foot forward, no complaints brought to the party

Sunshine everyday dressed up like Sunday on Monday

Then the day came, when both of them began to feel it

Dissipation of desire

Dissolution of yearning

Disseverance of attraction 

Like two twinkling stars at dawn

That faded away until they could not be found

From one or the other

Never a glance back for what was

The Man Who Wanted To Disappear

   "Have you ever," the man sitting next to Aaron said as he stared into his newspaper, "considered disappearing?"

   "Huh? Aaron replied. "Do you mean disappearing as in becoming invisible and being able to walk away without anyone seeing you? Well, this one time in high school I was on the quad at lunchtime talking to Rosemarie Garcia and two friends of mine came over to us, and Allen Tucana said that the spot where I spilled Fresca on my pants looked like I'd pee'd myself. Definitely wished I could've disappeared then. And there was another time, when I was working at Tree Care Specific, like, two weeks after I got the job and the boss..."

   "No, no," the man sitting next to Aaron interjected, "Not disappear because you found yourself in an embarrassing situation, I mean disappear as in abandon your entire life as it stands now - leave your family and friends, your job, your home, your possessions, everything, including your identity, behind, and create a whole new life as a whole new person somewhere else, like, in an entirely different country."

   "Uhm...no...I've never really been that embarrassed about anything...not even when I split the pants of my rental tuxedo on the dance floor at my older brother's wedding, or when I threw up on Tracy Kolterman's mom at that carnival in the parking lot of the mall after eating a ton of corn dogs..."

   "Geezus, being so embarrassed that you wanted to just blink your eyes and disappear is not what I'm talking about here. "I'm talking about wanting to kill off your old self and re-inventing your entire existence top to bottom, somewhere far, far away from where you are and, you know, start over from scratch."

   "I don't get it," Aaron said plainly, "You mean, without having a reason to? Just for fun run away and pretend I'm someone else?"

   "Yes, that's what I mean." The old man hadn't even turned his head toward Aaron as he spoke, just kept staring into his newspaper. "Just forget everything and everyone you've ever known and go live the rest of your life somewhere else, as someone else."

   "Why would I want to do that?" Aaron asked. "If I haven't done anything to make people laugh at me or treat me like a geek, why would I have to move and make up a fake me?'

   The man next to Aaron gave him a sideways glance in order to get a better idea of who he was talking to. The man thought Aaron looked to be about his own age, mid-40's, but seemed to have the mental capacity of a kid, a slow teenager at best. 

   He thought to himself that Aaron didn't look all that dumb, but he also didn't look all that bright. He mulled over whether or not he wanted to keep talking or if he should just drop it and find some other section of the paper to read. He decided to continue talking as he figured the man he now thought of as a kid wasn't bright enough to pick up on why he was bringing the subject up and thus, he could talk out the plan without having to worry about compromising his intentions.

   "Let me put it this way. Say you got into trouble - a lot of trouble. So much trouble in fact that everyone you know would be angry with you, to the point of not ever wanting to speak to you again, nor have anything to do with you whatsoever. Everyone, all your friends and family, your neighbors and everyone you worked with. In fact, your boss would be so mad at you he'd fire you. The trouble you got into even made the Police mad at you. Wouldn't you want to run away and hide from that kind of trouble?"

   "Wow. I've gotten everybody mad at me before, even my Uncle Bennie, but all I had to do was apologize to everyone and work at the landscaping place until I could pay for all the windows and the Jeffries' new tree. Of course I wasn't allowed to use the rider mower anymore but that was okay - the push mower is kinda good exercise." 

   The man sat exasperated. This attempt to bare his soul was getting him nowhere. He'd have better luck going to a Catholic church and blabbing to a Priest in a confessional.

   "You know, you're right. Apologizing and making restitution is probably better than running away. So, is everyone you know still mad at you for that?"

    "Nope, everyone's been real nice and they all say they aren't mad at me anymore - except Mason that is. Mason was supposed to be in charge of me when we were working at the Jefferies' home. His Dad made him work in the greenhouse the whole summer after the flowerbeds got torn up, the windows were broken, and the tree was knocked over. Those greenhouses get really hot in the summer so I don't really blame him for staying mad at me."

    The man stifled a laugh as he sipped his coffee. "Yeah, I can see how he could still be mad at you." 

   He realized then that talking with Aaron was not going to get him anywhere and decided to leave. "Hey, I gotta go. You have a nice day." 

   Leaving enough to cover his breakfast and a decent tip the man got up and walked away, now just a little unsure of what he had been contemplating. As he pushed on the door to exit the diner he turned toward the man he regarded as a kid. The kid waved at him and said "Goodby Mister, have a good day, too."

   Outside the diner the man looked down the street of the strange town towards what looked to be a Catholic church. It was mid-afternoon, surely there would be a Priest available to hear his confession.

   Inside the diner Aaron Roberts, formerly known as Georg Hermann Kobell, appeared to absent-mindedly wipe down the glass he had been drinking from with a sterile sanitary wipe he had pulled out of his pocket, and then the knife and fork he had used to eat his breakfast. 

   His mind raced as he considered the odds against a stranger sitting next to him bringing up the subject of assuming a new identity to escape a life that was no longer tenable. 

   It had taken him years of watching 1950's American sitcoms to develop the character of a somewhat slow but pleasant, eternally optimistic simpleton and apparently that was a personality type that did indeed attract those sort of people - which he had discovered himself when he first started sitting next to random strangers to discuss his own plans to disappear.

     

No Resolutions For 2023

 

   As "just survive" is a lousy resolution, there will be no resolutions for 2023.

   Kiddin'. There are several resolutions for 2023. The top three are "Drink less coffee, learn to bowl, and paint at least once a week."

   Those three get priority because they are much easier than "Climb a few more fourteeners, write a screenplay, and eat fewer oreo cookies."