The Sculpture In The Park That No One Really Liked

Into Anything Or Into Nothing

    I was asked what I was into when I was a younger, and my reply was, "How much younger? Twenty years ago? Forty years ago? Fifty?"

   The woman who posed the question paused briefly and said, "When you were in your late teens, early twenties, what were you into at that time?"

   Without hesitation I flatly stated "Life".

   "I was into living my life to the fullest. I went out dancing a lot, because I really liked dancing and I liked music. I also was into art and literature - dove headfirst into Kerouac after reading On The Road, but also Philip Roth, and Chandler, and Vonnegut, and a whole bunch of Sci-Fi authors like Zelazny, Clarke, Bradbury, Jose-Farmer, and a ton of others. I think I read just about any book that I could get my hands on." 

   "What about your education? Did you go to college? What did you study?"

   "You know, I tried college several times, but ultimately it became too difficult for me to both earn a living and attend college. Also, there was the part where I just didn't possess enough self-discipline or an adequate attention span, one or the other, or maybe it was both, to pursue any particular subject for too long. I studied Architecture, History, English, and a few other interests - but I never put together a specific curriculum, never climbed over that wall."

   "Really? You come across as a fairly well-educated person. Very worldly, too."

   "Thank you, appreciate that. I chalk that up to a lack of a television in the household when I was a kid, and the resultant addiction to reading that I developed."

    She looked at my face as if trying to judge whether I was being truthful about my background and then asked, "So what are you into now?"

   "Pretty much the same things, except not so much with the dancing. Can't think of the last time I went out dancing."

   

When It All Seems Pointless, Meaningless

He insisted it was all pointless, pointlessly meaningless

And I said, "If that is so then what would be the point of you saying so?"

Because if everything is as pointless and meaningless as you say

Then that would have to include everything you say

So if you don't mind can you please refrain from saying it

At least while I'm in earshot

For I do not believe as you do, I see a point and meaning in most everything

Whether it's meaningful for bees to pollinate flowers

Or if there is a point to the birds chirping away in the trees

It all has meaning, it all has a point

To me

So shove your existential nihilist claptrap

Back into whatever dark corner of your mind in sprung from

For as you keep insisting, it's all pointless, pointlessly meaningless

Her Memory Of A Spring Break On The Carolina Shore Almost 19 Years Ago*

She had tears in her eyes as she watched him getting ready

He was such a handsome boy

Smart & strong, athletic

Graceful, yet rough & ready

She loved his pale blue eyes

And the soul that she saw behind them

His sandy blonde hair that slightly curled

It was hard not to think he was a prize

As she looked at him she recalled that Spring Break

Myrtle Beach had been so much fun

Absently she let her mind drift back  

To that week in late March and the fateful clambake

The first time she caught sight of him 

She knew he was to be the one

He was with a group of friends, laughing

Tanned and toned but not like he lived in a gym

Slowly, purposefully, she worked her way closer

'til she was able to get into his line of sight

When he looked at her she thought she'd melt

Vividly she recalled willing him to come over

When he broke away from his friends and did just that

She was surprised but remained calm

He introduced himself and held out his hand

She told him her name and they started to chat

The chemistry was instant, he was so easy to talk to

She waited twenty minutes to accidently brush up against him

He responded just as she had expected 

As the sun went down they held hands taking in the view

That week went by so fast and wonderfully

Spending everyday and night together as young lovers do

When it was time to leave they promised to call and write

But she knew for herself it would have to end completely

She had planned to meet a smart boy she could enchant

And she did just as she planned

She also promised herself that the only thing she was returning with

Were fond memories and the hope of being as the French say, enceinte

It was difficult to throw away the address and phone number

But she did not want to further complicate her decision

The plan had worked and she was prepared to face the consequences

Alone but for a few friends and her sister

When the baby arrived healthy she knew she had done right

Though it was a challenge everyday and sometimes she wished

That he would be able to meet his father at least once

She doubted that boy would even remember the night

When the day came that he finally asked

The lie she had practiced for years was finally spoken

Your father was a sailor who was lost at sea

Said with a finality and sadness that closed the door on her past

Standing in her boy's room as he packed to leave for college

She brought her thoughts back to the present

He was the spitting image of his father as she remembered him

She dried her eyes and smiled melancholic

*I wrote this entire dealio just to use the French word "enceinte" in a sentence 

**I've received a number of emails asking if this was based on a real life incident (in one email I was told by the sender that this closely parallels his own life, as he was born to an unwed mother who eventually revealed to him that he was a planned pregnancy by her, but not by the man who got her pregnant, and that he never met his father until he was in his thirties via 23&Me).

   To clarify, there are elements of this dealio that are based on some real life experiences I've been told about, but not on anything I personally experienced or was party to. 

Deflecting Falling Rocks With A Tissue-Paper Shield

Fighting fires with flowers

Won't win you many battles

But you don't need super powers

To end petty squabbles

Just gotta learn to swallow your pride

Even if it kills you a little inside

Let humility be your guide

Take a deep breath and let it slide

The Tyranny Of The Red Light Camera

   It hit him suddenly, about midway through his questioning of the young police officer who had taken the stand.

   At first he had paid little to no attention to the officer's bonafides as he was relating them in response to the prosecutor's request, but then the realization that the young officer and the older officer before him, had both stated that their place of employment, the actual building they worked in, was the very building they were in at the moment sparked something in the defendant's brain.

   And that something was ignited further when the defendant caught sight of the look on the Judge's face as he was questioning the young officer. He was asking questions regarding the camera that had been used to take the video of the alleged traffic infraction, and noticed a momentary look of almost parental concern directed by the Judge to the officer, and then a just-as-momentary look of disdain directed toward him, the defendant trying to prove his innocence.

   Then and there he realized that the young officer, despite having stated that he had been trained in the use and functions of the red light camera, had no actual knowledge of it's technical specs, and continuing to ask questions about frame rates, and whether the camera utilized traditional photographic film or videotape, or did it rely on a CMOS or CCD sensor for the recording medium and how large those sensors were, and what the refresh rate of the monitor he observed the video playback on was, and how the bright light of the sunny afternoon the picture was taken on would effect the resolution of the image...was pointless.

   Due to the fact that everyone in the courtroom that was tasked with the prosecution of the case against him worked together...in the same building...for years...the Judge who had momentarily glanced at the young officer with almost motherly concern, the young prosecutor full of vim and vigor, both the younger and older officer who had reviewed the red light camera footage...had most likely sat in this same exact courtroom for the exact same purpose as they were today on countless occasions.

   The defendant mentally threw out his rehearsed arguments based on the yellow light in a 45 mph zone being two seconds shorter than the 6 seconds recommended by the NTSB (due to the possibility of rear-end collisions), and his rehearsed argument that cameras, particularly digital cameras, often blur images or eliminate images altogether due to frame rate and resolution differences, which often made images look slower or faster than they actually were...

   Forget 'confirmation bias' the defendant said to himself..."I'm literally dealing with a family here, and this family is not going to listen to, much less closely exam anything I might present that would exonerate me...I'm toast".

   And so, mentally throwing up his hands he discontinued his questioning of the young officer, declined the opportunity to make a closing argument, listened patiently to the closing argument of the prosecutor, just as patiently listened to the Judge sum up the evidence and facts as presented and declare him guilty as charged, and then walked out of the courtroom and downstairs to the clerk's window where he begrudgingly paid the $75.00 fine.

   The defendant still regarded the day a fun and educational one though, as he loved being in a courtroom and playing the role of an attorney, even though he was aware of how much the odds were stacked against him.

   

Bee Happy

 

Aaron's Plan For Immortality

   "That's your plan for immortality? Your legacy? Have you been doing shots of bourbon for breakfast?''

   Liz looked at her friend Aaron with unbridled skepticism as she spoke, leaving no doubt as to what she thought of his plan.

   "I'm serious as colon cancer Liz, it's a good idea, admit it. Don't be trying to crush my dream because you didn't think of it first".

   Liz could barely contain herself, and with every ounce of will she could muster managed to not laugh out loud.

  "So", Liz began, "You seriously think that dying as a John Doe is going to somehow magically grant you lasting fame, or infamy, whichever, whatever. You think your name will live on because you died under mysterious circumstances and could not be identified? Exactly how is that supposed to work? What am I missing here?'

   Aaron took a quick drink of his cola and looked directly across the small table at Liz. "It's very simple Liz, even you should be able to get it. Over the past few years, probably actually decades now, the advancements made in DNA profiling have seen an incredible surge in cold cases, specifically murders, being reopened and then solved. The revelation of the John or Jane Doe's identity is featured on television shows and websites, and some of them even make not just local headlines, but national and even international headlines."

   "So...your plan involves you being murdered? And the police not being able to identify you? You're from a family of six Aaron, and you have three ex-wives. You were in the military. How are you going to arrange to not be identified, much less murdered?"

   "I do not have to be murdered to become a John Doe, Liz, I just have to die and not be readily identifiable, and my death has to be under fairly mysterious circumstances, preferably very public mysterious circumstances."

   "Oh, is that all there is to it? Hell, I might join you in this scheme for immortality - What are you thinking for mysterious and very public circumstances? Plane crash? Shark attack at a crowded beach? Building collapse? Maybe find a way to become the first victim of a new & deadly virus?"

   "You're a riot Liz, very funny. But I've got a good idea here and you know it. I just have to work out a few details."

   "Right. Dang details always get in the way of good plans, damn them all to hell".

   "Laugh all you want, but someday, years after we have fallen out of touch with one another, you're going to read or hear reports about a unidentifiable body that was recovered from the site of a disaster or accident, and then you're going to start recalling this conversation we're having, and you're going to realize that I actually had a good plan."

   "Uh huh. Sure". Liz looked at Aaron with her snarkiest of smiles and then asked, "When do we start on the part of your plan were we fall out of touch? Sooner than later, I hope."

   

Vilde Is An Anagram For Devil

 

See what driving a Mercedes Benz SL 550 gets you? Parking privileges in a nice shady disabled persons parking space, even if you are not disabled.

Flor Del Llano (Flower of the Plain) Sculpture By Greg Reiche

The Interrogation Of Morton

   He sat at the table in a cold unpadded steel chair that had him facing a grizzled, unshaven and probably twice-as-tired as he was Detective Sergeant and asked him if he could have a smoke.

  The Detective Sergeant reacted to his request with a little surprise, telling him more than asking, "I thought you said you didn't smoke?'

   With a slight nod he replied, "I don't, not for quite awhile anyway - quit when I was thirteen, after I joined the wrestling team. But I've watched a lot of police procedural shows, and that seems like something that people being questioned by the police do, you know, as part of the routine."

   The DS chuckled, then stated flatly, "That's a riot, but there's no smoking in here - Hollywood never gets the details right." 

   "Oh, okay, guess I can't get any coffee either, eh?"

   "Nope, no coffee either. We used to provide coffee, but too many perps started throwing it or spitting it out at us, so no more coffee."

   "Bummer - but if I fall asleep on ya', it's on you. I am kinda tired."

   "Mr Bixler, I appreciate your concern, but if we can get back to the situation at hand, we can probably wrap this up fairly quickly. Now, please tell me one more time how it was you became involved in the burglary at the FirstTrust Bank branch in Charlotte."

   "Like I've told you three times already Detective, I wasn't involved in the burglary, I just happened to be walking by the bank when I saw the door was wide open. I thought it was odd, so I took a look inside to see what was going on. That's when one of the actual burglars grabbed me and pulled me into the building and told me to sit on the floor and stay quiet - which was all of 10 seconds before the bank was surrounded by squad cars. That's it, that's all I had to do with the burglary at the FirstTrust Bank branch, I'm an innocent bystander, or if anything, an eyewitness to a crime."

   The Detective Sergeant drummed the fingers of his left hand on the steel table top while twirling a pen in his right hand. He looked directly into the face of Morton Bixler for a full minute without saying a word. Morton shifted in his seat a little, the stare of the DS making him slightly uncomfortable.

   "You have been in this room for almost a full thirty minutes Mr. Bixler, and you have yet to request a lawyer. Most perps want a lawyer within the first 5 minutes. Extremely rare for anyone to sit where you are and not request a lawyer Mr. Bixler."

   "Yeah? Well, I don't need a lawyer seeing as how I am not a 'perp'. I'm just doing what any good, taxpaying citizen would do to help the law with a criminal matter, and I will confess that at first it was pretty exciting to be an eyewitness that could provide some information that might help put some bad guys away, but truth be told, it's now getting to be a bit tedious, eh?"

   Now it was the Detective's turn to shift uncomfortably in his seat. DS Cameron was beginning to believe the man sitting across from him was indeed just an innocent bystander, something that he absolutely hated thinking as it went against everything he believed about people found at 3:00 in the morning at crime scenes they really had no believable reason for being at. Who goes for a walk downtown at 3:00 in the morning? Bixler hadn't been drinking, so the whole meandering drunk deal was quickly ruled out. He said he had just simply been walking by the bank and saw the door open - could the burglars have been so stupid as to leave the door open? Criminals have done dumber things, sure, but he couldn't recall any burglars who had left doors open while trying to steal from a bank. Still... stranger things had happened.

   "Okay, Mr. Bixler, one last time. Tell me everything you can recall from, let's say, three blocks before you reached the FirstTrust Bank branch until the squad cars arrived."

   Morton intertwined his fingers as he placed his hands on the tabletop. "Three blocks from the FirstTrust Bank I crossed from the QuickSip store on Farage Ave and 17th to the 18th block of Farage. I walked briskly under the light of the quarter moon and the ever-dim street lights. The air is still in the city at that time of the morning - it's quiet, except for the sound of the rats rummaging through the garbage in the alleys. Everything was closed up, so I didn't hear anything but the wind and the rats. Maybe the faint rumble of a few long-haul trucks on the expressway a half mile or so further down Farage. That kind of quiet is something I truly enjoy, which is why I take my walks so early in the morning. It is very serene, very peaceful. The birds aren't even up yet. Anyhow, I continued walking along Farage until I crossed over from 18th to the 19th block, and continued to enjoy the silence. The street lights in that area are all fairly dim, probably because they only get changed out if they burn out, which means they are all pretty old I imagine. It adds to the mystique of the early morning hour though, so I don't mind it at all. After I crossed from 19th to the 20th block, that's when I encountered the FirstTrust Bank building and saw the open door, and that's when I foolishly stuck my head inside the open door, and that's when I was grabbed by the burglar and made to sit on the floor, and ten seconds later the squad cars showed up. That's all I can recall from the three blocks before I reached the FirstTrust Bank branch until the squad cars arrived."

   Detective Cameron's appearance did not reveal any of the frustration he felt as he listened patiently to Morton Bixler's story. But frustrated he was, deeply so. Something did not fit, but it was beyond him what it was that didn't fit. The four other men they had arrested at the bank all stated he wasn't part of their outfit, but he'd known plenty of crooks who would rather die that turn stoolie - especially if it meant turning on someone who could be the head of the organization.

   "Okay, Mr. Bixler. Before I turn off this recorder, is there anything, even the slightest, littlest thing you can think of that might be of interest that happened before or after you encountered the FirstTrust Bank branch on 20th and Farage?"

   "No Detective, I'm sorry, but I've told you everything I can recall."

   "Well then, you're free to go. Can we drop you anywhere?"

   Morton Bixler looked over at the Detective as he rose from his chair, smiled, and said, "No thanks DS Cameron, I can walk home from here."

   

   

We Hold These Truths To Be Self-Evident

 

Home Is Where You Find A Place To Sleep

For as long as there have been villages, towns, or cities on this planet

There have been alleys or doorways or abandoned buildings 

Where homeless people have taken up residence

Whether it was for one night or for as long as they could stay without eviction

They considered that alley or doorway or abandoned building

Their temporary home

For as long as there have been homeless people on this planet

There have been well-meaning people trying to find them permanent homes

But despite their best well-intentioned efforts

Those well-meaning people have failed to make the slightest dent

In the homeless population

For those well-meaning people have failed to realize

That there are a lot of people

Who do not want to be permanently housed in boxes with roofs

That only serve the purpose

Of keeping them cloistered away from those who don't

Want to have to see them sleeping in the streets

Signaling Her Desires

The boy was boasting once again

About meeting the most gorgeous woman you'd ever seen

Blonde and blue, full lips and porcelain skin

She was hotter than hot, a full-on beauty queen

The men gathered at the table shared a chuckle

They'd all heard this story a hundred times before

He'd been telling it since he first sprouted stubble

There probably wasn't a girl in town he hadn't fallen for

This time it's different he loudly bellowed

This girl is not only a stunner, she's also into me!

She gave her name and number and we even took a photo

Then he pulled out his phone and said, Take a look and see!

Old Jim put on his readers and took a cursory glance

Then handed the phone over to the other men to inspect 

Each of them snickered a little when they viewed the new romance

His phone was handed back to him as if it was suspect

Each of the men looked at each other as if they shared a secret

And each of the men nodded as if silently voting on who would reveal it

After several minutes the room became as silent as a crypt

Until old Jim cleared his throat and said, Alright, I'll spit 

Jim then took a long sip of coffee before he said to him

Son, don't you see she's flashing the V

Letting the women know of her availability

And that you are not her preferred cup of tea

What the hey! The boy spat right back at the men

Are you trying to tell me she's playing for the other team?

Why in tarnation would she give me her name and number then?

You old coots don't know nothing you're throwing water on my dream

Suit yourself, one of the other old men said grumpily

But you're young and you would do well to listen

The world is full of beautiful young ladies who will share a man's company

But have a decidedly different preference when it comes to huggin' and a kissin'

The boy stared at the picture on the 3 X 4 screen

And his thumb hovered over the little garbage can of delete

He knew the men were right about what her fingers were supposed to mean

And decided that if they went out it would be straight up dutch treat