Monday, April 28, 2008

The Roll a short story

He could not believe the size of the line for the buffet. He had sat through the ceremony "behaving" just like his mother had told him to. Even with the incense ball spewing smoke and the foreign language being spoke he was a model of good behavior. He knew what awaited after the wedding... he had been to one before, he was 13 after all. He had a lot of experience now and told people that regularly... he had to remind them he was no longer a kid. They didn't grasp the concept even with the reminders. He had had to stop his mother from cutting his chicken for him the night before. What was he four? Unfortunately all the experience in the world could not have prepared him for the size of this line... and the worst part was it was hardly moving. Old people never moved fast enough for him and he was famished, it had been nearly 2 hours since he had last ate! Didn't these people get that? "MOVE!" he thought. His younger brother started to whine about being hungry and that just made things worse. His mother put an end to the whining real quick with nothing more then a look. He had seen that look a lot in his life himself and he could not imagine anyone ever crossing his mother when she wore that look on her face. He fidgeted a little, wishing his mother had allowed him to bring his PSP. Mothers never let you do anything fun.

This girl he knew got in line behind his family. He had known her for years via these little get-togethers that his mother and her friends were so fond of. Until last year he had just thought she was a dumb girl but he did not see her as very dumb anymore. He tried to nonchalantly move to the back of his group so he could talk to her. Of course it would be easier if the line would move every know and then. The hosts had invited the elderly up to get their food first and what seemed like 3/4 of the group had risen to descend on the food. Well actually he would not call it 'descend' that implied speed, it could more accurately be called 'inched'. Some of them even centimetered. Finally he was standing in front of the girl.

"Hey Natalie" he began "did you like the wedding?"

She smiled at him and that was the last thing he understood before a blur of words erupted from her mouth. Her speech was littered with words like "beautiful", "romantic", "dashing" and "lovely". He was stymied but remembering the advice from his uncle he just nodded and smiled a lot. His uncle said he found it easier to agree and look happy when talking to a girl you like because usually girls you like also manage to trigger your brain's off switch. He had thought his uncle was just being funny up until this moment. He found he was agreeing that the bride's dress was "beautiful" and that the groom looked "dashing" in his tux.

His uncle who stood in front of him patted his shoulder at that moment "Hey T, the line is starting to move. Be ready because in roughly an hour from now we will hit the front of the buffet line....." and then winked at him and nodded approvingly in the direction of Natalie all in one masterful shot. His uncle called him 'T' because his name was Thomas and his mom refused to let the family call him 'Tommy'. So being the type of person his uncle was he shortened the nickname to a mere letter and it had stuck. His mom even called him "T" sometimes.... then she would say Thomas real quick to correct herself. She did not approve of the nickname and in reality that is why it stuck. He had deduced that the key to a nickname sticking is the reaction you get from people when you use it. As he was too young to care when it was first used the only person to reject was his mother. Seeing as his uncle was his mother's brother he had gained years of practice at tormenting her and when she overreacted to "Tommy" he had immediately tried out "T". She had said no with less venom in her tone so he kept correcting her when she said "Thomas" by saying "Also known as T". Everyone found this new game amusing and started slowly using the name more and more, finally his mother gave in and it became normal to call him T.

Anyway during his reverie about his nickname, Natalie had continued to rave about the "beautiful" wedding and he had continued to nod. When he next turned around he had to grab a plate as the buffet line had arrived in front of him at long last. He had managed a long conversation with Natalie and not looked stupid (which happened more then he would care to admit when he was around her in the past year). Of course he had not really added much to this conversation nor had he been witty or charming. He figured he better just settle for not looking stupid. He was 3 people behind where the first item could be grabbed, which happened to be rolls. He imagined them smothered in butter and his mouth began to water, which was dangerous as he had recently had braces put on his teeth and he tended to drool when he started salivating. He thought of the dogs his uncle had told him about who were trained to salivate at the sound of a bell and realized he was probably trained as well. Except he salivated at the idea of buttered rolls.

That was when he noticed it. Near the middle of the pile of rolls was a roll that looked like a face. He was dying to grab that roll. He made a quick prayer "Dear Lord, If you save that roll for me I promise I will listen to what my mom tells me forever! Ok.... maybe not but I will promise the week. On second thought lets just plan on this weekend. You know I couldn't keep the other promises anyway. Thank you. Amen" He waited for his turn to grab a roll and kept thinking "PLEASE! PLEASE! LET THAT ROLL BE MINE!" Then all of a sudden it was in his hand. As he moved through the line he stared at it with a satisfied smile on his face. Somehow when he had arrived at the end of the line he had ended up with a plate of food. That was a bit of a mystery as the last thing he had grabbed was this roll but he was not overly concerned. He carefully put his new friend "Toasty" on the edge of his plate away from the other food and walked back to his table. He sat the roll in front of his plate and ate his food without a glance anywhere else but at Toasty. He needed to bring out the face a little more so with his butter knife he carefully cut the bread away from the crease that looked like his mouth and then deepened the indentations that looked like eyes. There was a natural nose and he did nothing to that. His uncle glanced at his roll and said "Hey that looks like a face! That is cool, you should save that." He saw his mom shoot a scowl at his uncle that his uncle simply grinned at. His uncle sometimes resembled the Cheshire cat when he grinned and that toothy grin was on display now.

"The only problem would be that he would get moldy and gross" Thomas said in response.

"Not if we use some of the stuff my old girlfriend Teresa put on the roses I gave her when we first met. Those rose were still relatively in good shape when she threw them in the garbage 3 years later!" His uncle replied. Making light of what Thomas knew had been a very hard break up for his uncle.

"That would be cool but I don't have money to buy it."

"I still have that stuff. Lets put him on the dash of my car after you show people, because people have to see him, and then we can lacquer him up tonight when we get to my place."

Thomas had nearly forgotten that he was spending the weekend with his uncle and felt like maybe his prayer was not completely fair but then again God was all knowing so he had to know where he would spend the weekend. He would still try to be good after the weekend just to make up for it, just in case it mattered in the end. So after he was done eating he brought Toasty around to various people and introduced them to his roll. He had some odd looks from a few of the people nearby that he did not know but most people just laughed and remarked that it was a pretty cool discovery. The groom howled with laughter and insisted on having Toasty give a toast. Which consisted of Thomas saying how cool it was that the bride and groom were now married and he hoped them well out of the side of his mouth in a strange high pitched voice. People laughed and cheered him on. He was a little embarrassed when he was finished with the toast but a flood of curious people came over to check Toasty out, including Natalie.

After the fervor died down he took his roll out to the car with his uncle leading the way. His uncle dispensed advice about Natalie and congratulated him on his impromptu toast he had made. He told Thomas the roll voice was very funny and the words were well chosen and clearly delivered even with the silly voice. Thomas was excited and could not wait to get back in because Natalie had told him they should dance. He put Toasty on the dash and with a quick explanation to his uncle he ran back inside.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

The Mackerel - A short flight of fancy

I had dreams of flying that night. I flew over the Grand Canyon and across miles and miles of desert until I hit the ocean. I had never seen this particular view of the ocean before. There were lots of boats in the water. Raiding the ocean, at an alarming rate, of hundreds and hundreds of fish. One particular fishing boat was pulling in a net full of fish struggling to escape the sunny air and back into the water. A mackerel, in the mass of fish, caught my eye and he began to talk to me. He told me I needed to cut the net and set them free or a terrible plague would happen. I was not sure what it was about this fish, perhaps the fact that he could talk, but I believed him. I grabbed a machete from the boat and I sliced open the net, spilling the fish back into the ocean. The fishermen were angry and started yelling curses at me as I hovered just above them holding a machete. I was a little alarmed by their shouting so I tried to explain to them. A rifle was pointed in my direction as an answer to my pleas and that was when I woke up.

I, of course, thought nothing of it. It was a strange dream, nothing more. Right? The dream stayed with me, always plaguing the back of my mind. Kind of like when you hear Whitney Houston bellow out "I believe the children are our future.." as you wait on hold to pay a bill and then you can't get rid of the song for weeks. You stand in the shower, washing your hair, singing "the greatest love of all is happening to me!" It's that kind of 'in the back of my mind' I am talking about. I couldn't get a night's sleep without ending with the rifle being pointed at me by the angry fishermen. My waking hours were tolerable I could laugh at the dream in the light of day. Slowly my resolve began to fade and I began to have the dream if I drifed off in to a daydream. It stopped being entertaining at that point and started to be frightening. I began drinking more coffee and sleeping less. I was always exhausted and the dream began bridging the gap between unconscious mind and conscious mind. That was when I started receiving the phone calls. All I would hear would be a narration of the dream. If I hung up they would call back and pick up where they left off. By this time I had stopped shaving or bathing as I was afraid of the water. I was not sure what to expect but I did not want to chance that damn mackerel coming out of the faucet.

It was about then that my boss pulled me aside, into a conference room. I am not sure what happened but 15 minutes later, after hearing him tell me the sequence of my dream, I was standing outside with a box in my hand piled high with my desk belongings. I decided I probably needed food so I went to the local drive through. The voice through the speaker started talking about flying over the desert. I told that voice I wanted a Big Mac meal with a coke. It said something about the talking mackerel in response and I pulled forward. The person handling the cash transaction was that damn mackerel! I handed him my money and pulled to the next window filled with angry fishermen and they were yelling curses at me as they handed my lunch over. I sped away as the fisherman reached for the rifle. I was not looking forward at where I was going and that was when I ran head on into the police car.

I woke up in the hospital.... A doctor came up to me and started telling my dream to me. I screamed at him that I no longer wanted to save that damn talking mackerel! They put me to sleep almost immediately. When I awoke I was in a padded room.

Now you tell me... why would someone employ a mackerel as a psychiatrist?

Monday, April 21, 2008

Slick - A Short Story

It was April and the sun had not been out for more than a day so far this year. I pulled my jacket in tighter to help slow the ice cold wind from slicing through the fleece. I had broken the zipper off the day before while scurrying out the door. I think the cliché is "They don’t make them like they used to". Except that my last fleece jacket did the same thing, so either it was the zipper or it was me. I like to imagine it all goes back to the zippers and the sweatshop manufacturing but it probably is a fair share of me. Either way it was 35 degrees and raining. Of course I had cleaned my car out, removing my umbrella, the week before. So I hustled across the parking lot and headed into the store, managing to only get half soaked. I shivered as I walked into the slightly cool mega store and tried to figure out where I needed to go. I had decided to buy some new casual pants to wear to work and around town (mainly wanting them to not be jeans). I figured since I was in there that it was my duty to have a look around. After all you never know what type of deal you might find on the one thing you never knew you needed. I owed it to myself to spend a little money, after all I had paid my bills and who needs a savings account. Even more fulfilling was the knowledge that my spending was helping to fight an economic slump and those damn terrorists. I can’t tell you how but that is what the news told me and it is after all the news.

So I was lost in a plethora of mini purchasing options and my heart was beating fast as I thought greedily of what I didn’t need but would soon be mine. After all I had a couple of spots to tuck things in my room (I could still see the floor). I was walking through the toy section (you never know when you might need a GI Joe action figure in a pinch) and I came across a little robot dog in the middle of the aisle. Naturally I was intrigued so I picked it up and the tail started wagging and it barked at me happily. I patted the little guy on the head and looked at the tag expecting to see a price but instead the tag read "I am now yours. Take me home." Thinking I had merely stumbled across some cute new marketing gimmick I put the dog back down on the floor and started to walk away. I could hear the patter of his feet behind me so I stopped and cast a glance over my shoulder. It hovered mid-stride with it’s tail wagging and it whined at me. Brushing this off as another clever marketing ploy I kept walking toward the electronics section and it started following me. I was starting to get a little paranoid but I couldn't just start running in fear away from a little toy dog. Even if that was what I wanted to do, run toward the exit, screaming my head off while waving my arms around and crying hysterically. I tried to focus on other things, like what movies were on sale but I could feel the dog’s eyes on me. Watching and waiting for me to take it home.

"Hey Mr.!" This kid in a bright yellow outfit yelled at me. "Where did you get that wicked dog! I want to get me one of those dogs!"

I looked back at the dog sitting there by my ankle looking at me with rather large, sad puppy dog eyes. I started trying to remember if the little electronic dog had looked like that when I had picked him up but I waved off the idea in fear of falling into madness. I turned to the kid who reminded me of a caution sign and I told him I had found him in the toy section and the kid ran off. In fact, a whole group of kids ran off toward the section. I had not realized how many people were paying attention to me and my dog until that point. It was also at that point that I acknowledged what I already knew to be true, that he was my dog. I looked down at the dog and told him "Come along" as I headed to the men’s clothing section. I liked the pitter patter of his little metal legs on the linoleum flooring, for some odd reason it was soothing.

I picked out the pants I wanted as I saw a whole gaggle of upset parents dragging whiny kids away from the toy section. I overheard the caution sign kid say "But he said he got the dog over there! And there was not any little robot dogs over there!" I heard a terse reply to his complaints but the words were not said very loudly and I could not make it out exactly but I recognized the tone. I bent down at this point to look at the tag again and to my surprise the words had changed. "I will ring up at the price of 9.99 but there is no dog like me in this store. I am one of a kind, even if you decide not to take me home I will end up there. I am yours now." I blinked a lot after I got done reading but I tucked this little dog under my arm and I grabbed the slacks and I headed toward the register. At the register he rang up at 9.99 and the writing had changed to a bar scan symbol. I walked out of the store with him and proceeded to buckle him into the passenger seat of my car. I glanced at his tag and it read "I need a name."

"I'll call you Slick." The dog barked his affirmation.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

A Gust of Wind - A short story

"I don't think it would have turned out this way if it hadn't been for that gust of wind..... that was when it all fell apart."

I was in the corner of Sadie's in our usual booth. We had fallen in to a rut some years back and we just naturally drifted to that booth every time we walked through the doors. I was in that bar early that day... I had walked out of work mid-meeting and had kept walking. Just grabbed my briefcase, my jacket and walked out. When I hit the door I kept walking, past the parking lot and down the street. My phone was ringing but I didn't answer, I just walked. I walked until the road I was on ended at a parallel road and then I turned left and kept walking. I was about 3 miles away from that damn building and that damn meeting. A man held his hand out to me, begging for change... I handed him my briefcase and a twenty dollar bill. He was surprised a little... He asked me if I was OK. It was my turn to be surprised. This man who lived on the streets was worried about me, it was more compassion then I had experienced in a while. It made the tears fall, completely unexpected. He gave me advice as we shared a six pack behind the liquor store, I told him my life story. He told me I had never truly lived, he said I was one of the dead. That resonated, he was my new mentor of the moment.

He kicked me out of his alley... he had a lady friend coming over and she did not like anything new. I was way too new, too clean, too alien to stay. I stood up and as I walked away he yelled at my back that I was welcome back tomorrow. Same place... same time, as long as I bought the beer. I told him maybe but I did not turn back to make a promise I wouldn't keep. I kept walking until I reached a park. I went through the gate and walked past the blooming flowers. I had no interest in their beauty today, all I saw was future death. I found a bench and fell into it. My back registered its disagreement with how I came to be off my feet. I took the pain as a sign that I was still alive but I was not sure if I was on the verge of tears or overwhelming happiness. I could feel pain in my foot and it seemed a little too wet but I was not concerned by it. Mainly I was numb.... One thought bounced through my skull "How the hell had I got here?" I did not mean this park... I could tell you how to get here from the other side of the world. I knew where I was physically, this was more of a philosophical question. I meant how had I end up working a job I hated for the last five years? How had I stopped loving the woman I was with? How had I completely screwed up my life?

The week had started out normally. I woke up at 5:30 and headed to the bathroom and began shaving. I hated shaving but the job had strict rules on facial hair. The rule was "SHAVE!" I was working towards a supervisory position... I had an interview that day. My tepid goal was within my reach and I felt.... completely apathetic. I smiled at myself in the mirror but my eyes showed the truth. I turned away from my mirror image and entered the shower turning the nozzle and letting the brief splash of cold water slap me into reality. The day did not improve even though my interview seemed to have went well. At noon I found myself at the corner bar having a liquid lunch with a side of pretzels and peanuts. Feeling slightly less hopeless I stumbled back to my desk and chewed gum while staring at the computer screen until the day was over. Stephanie was there to pick me up and I slid quietly into my seat and she pulled away while busily talking to what seemed like nobody. The benefits of bluetooth connectivity.... I found out we were meeting with her friends Ted and Tina by listening to her conversation with Sandy. It occurred to me then that we had not had a conversation in a long time. We spoke at one another but we had stopped really talking. I wondered how long it would be before we went our separate ways but it seemed we were destined to keep plugging away because we would never have the talk. You have to talk to have the talk. We pulled up to Chez Bistro... I hate Chez Bistro and Stephanie knew this. She had just scored a point in her favor. I said nothing, just exited the car as the wind picked up. A wet piece of paper flew up and hit me squarely in the chest.... it was sopping wet. The headline read "Are you lost? Are you just going through the motions?" I ripped that top set of questions from the sheet and discarded the rest as I stuffed the questions in my pocket. Stephanie had not even stopped to see if I was following. I saw her long legs walk through the door and I stood there for a moment just staring as the door slowly closed behind her. I turned around and saw the Lotus Inn was behind me. The pink neon sign flashing with only the 'o' having burned out. I walked through those doors instead. The Lotus Inn was a seedy little bar that looked like it had always been a seedy little bar. It had never experienced a heyday, it had no illustrious past. If it was wiped off the earth only its current denizens would notice its absence as they looked for a new dank hole to hide in, to attempt to fill the hole in their souls with liquor. I bellied up to the bar and the bartender gave me a once over glancing just a little longer at the tie I wore. When he looked at my eyes the sarcastic comment died on his lips. I ordered a whiskey on rocks and sat down as he handed it to me. He had been kind enough to include a stir straw and I focused on it instead of the appraising looks from some of the cities worst that were in attendance. My phone began vibrating in my pocket, I pulled it out to see who it was. It was Stephanie and she must have finally realized I was not with her, it only took ten minutes. She was probably cursing my absence and attempting to explain it to Ted and Tina, she hated explaining unexpected things. One point for me. I ordered another drink as the phone vibrated against the wooden bar. Some one cleared their throat and I took the still vibrating phone off the bar and shoved it back in my pocket. I spent hours in there. A lot of people approached me like they wanted to test what I was about that night only to back up when they looked into my eyes. I walked out of that dive as the bartender announced last call and found Stephanie's car was gone. I started walking as the rain started up again.

When I finally made it home I was soaked to the bone. I had removed my wet jacket along the way home and had left it hanging on a guard rail. My tie I had tossed in a tree and my red dress shirt I had thrown in the back of a jeep. I was in my undershirt, slacks and dress shoes. It was 45 degrees but I was no colder with less items then I had been with the extra sopping wet layers. She had bought these clothes for me. I was done with them and I was done with her. I unlocked the door of our apartment and patted Talia's head. Her tail wagged, the only one in this house happy to see me. Stephanie was up, sitting in a dark room that was lit only by the flicker of the TV. She pointed at the message board but I did not turn to look I simply headed to the bedroom while shedding clothes until I fell into the bed. I thought "This bed is much warmer then I am" as I fell into a dark dreamless sleep.

The next morning I woke up to an empty bed. Being alone in the bed was not all that unusual these days. I headed to the bathroom and started shaving. I went to the kitchen and saw the living room was empty as well. The dog wasn't even there which was unusual. I felt a stab of pain as I set my foot down... the ground was littered with broken glass. I stifled a scream and began carefully hopping to a chair where I pulled the glass shard from my foot. My foot was bleeding pretty decently but I doubted I had hit any thing major. I walked to the bathroom wincing in pain with each step. I left a trail of one bloody footprint behind me. I had no intention of cleaning it up, this was her place and her broken glass. I wanted her to know she had scored her point this morning. I stood crane style with my foot in the sink as I poured isopropyl alcohol into the wound. It was not deep but it loved bleeding. I wrapped a towel around it and set my watch alarm for 10 minutes if the bleeding had not stopped by then I would call an ambulance. The amount of blood was alarming but not life threatening... at least that was what I was betting. The white towel began to color with blood but soon the spread stopped and even before my alarm rang I slapped a bandage on the wound. I hopped to the closet and grabbed Stephanie's crutches from when she had broke her leg the year before during a ski trip. I glanced at the mirror and saw I had managed to get blood on my clothes. I grabbed a new set of clothes and changed. I stood back up and used the crutches to avoid putting the foot down. A block down the road was a walk in clinic that opened at 7, I would go there. It was nearly 7 now.

The doctor at the clinic put sixteen stitches in my foot. He said no major damage had been done, one point for me. He warned me against walking on it as it might tear out the stitching. I nodded and maneuvered out of there and to the bus stop with the damn crutches and began my journey to work. I arrived late but the crutches and the bandaged foot were my excuse. I sat down at my desk and the message light was on. I picked up the phone half wanting it to be Stephanie asking about all the blood and the other half of me wanted it to be anybody except her. The second half was the side rewarded. My boss had left me a message letting me know I was with him for a meeting on Thursday. I settled into my job as well wishers dropped in with gifts and asked me to tell my tale of foot trauma. I told the truth only once and the reaction had been strange. So I began lying, the tales getting more elaborate with each rendition. The day was filled with small gestures of kindness but I still felt hollow. I walked out of the office at the end of the day and saw her car waiting there for me. I got in without hesitation and she drove off without comment. She was not on the phone today but no conversation was sparked. She did not ask about the foot or the crutches, she even neglected to let me know how much of a bastard I was. We were going a different way from home but I did not ask questions I just sat in silence. We rolled into an extended stay hotel and she handed me a room key and an envelope and then unlocked the doors. I got out and she pulled away and headed toward the exit. I stood there resting against my crutches as I watched her drive away. When she was out of sight I opened the envelope. It read: "Your room number is 354. Your room has all of your clothes hanging in the closet and food in the fridge. I used to love you, you know." I stared at the last line before flipping it over. "PS. There is an elevator to the third floor in the lobby. You probably need it." I stuffed the envelope in my pocket and made my way to the lobby.

The next morning began like every other day. I was staring at my reflection in the mirror as I attempted to eliminate the stubble. Then I showered, spending a little more time cleaning my foot as my doctor had recommended. It was ugly looking this morning, the abuse from the previous day showed in it's bruised appearance. I slowly dressed while staring at the message board that sat in front of the TV. Across it were the words written in red dry erase marker "What happened to us?" I turned away from it, stuffed my room key and wallet in my pocket. Then headed to the elevator and out to a nearby bus stop. Work was the same as any other day. People had stopped feeling sympathetic about my foot and no one was curious to hear the story. When I walked out at the end of the day I felt the first spot of regret when Stephanie's car was not waiting for me. I hobbled down to the bus stop and waited for it to whisk me back to my new home.

I woke up to my alarm blaring. I headed to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and the shadow of stubble covering my face and turned toward the shower. I decided to not shave, what was one day? I boarded the bus and made my way to work. My boss looked at the stubble when he came up to my desk. He decided not to comment and I followed him to the meeting. It was a new client and I was the pitchman. I went through the motions automatically, I was on autopilot. That was when it happened.... I simply stood up and walked out.

I am in the park again.... I am no longer lost in thought. I watch the kids play with their parents. I feel a slice of envy sharply stab in my heart. I had told Stephanie it was OK when she had admitted she did not want kids. We had been eating a picnic under a huge weeping willow in the middle of this very park. I was telling her what I wanted from my life and she flinched when I mentioned my desire for children. I listened as she shattered my dreams.... telling me all the reasons she would never have kids. A gust of wind blew through as she spoke and my soda fell over soaking my sandwich. I stared at it for a long time, focusing my anger there. Mad at a sandwich instead of her. Our relationship had more or less ended there. It just took two years for it to become official. I decided to leave the park as that realization crystallized in my mind.

I started walking and got into more familiar territory. I saw Sadie's, Stephanie loved this place and we had spent several Saturday nights here singing Karaoke. We hadn't been in here together in at least 6 months. The bar called to me and I walked thought the doors. That was how I ended up in the booth, our old booth, just reminiscing. That was where I was when she walked through the doors and walked to me. She sat opposite me in the booth and took my hands in hers. We sat there not speaking to each other for a while. I looked up and said "I don't think it would have turned out this way if it hadn't been for that gust of wind..... that was when it all fell apart." She stared at me for a moment before nodding. Somehow understanding my unexplained statement, no other words came to my lips. The silence invaded the space again, the only sound was the waitress bringing us a new drink. My mind drifted between her being here and the feeling that my foot was sitting in a blood soaked sock. The stitches long since torn open and the wound reopened. She finally looked up at me again and looked in my eyes "Can we start over?"

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

My love for Bluegrass

I was born a small boy in the heart of Kentucky. I did not have much but the love of bluegrass. It was a hard living but I was detailed oriented and bluegrass was in my blood. I rose early each day and worked at bluegrass until the sun set. I toiled day and night and by the age of 8 my entire yard was painted blue.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

The story of the inaccurate demotion of Pluto

Well I am learning about self esteem in children this week. So far what I have learned is that it may or may not be developed at various ages. It may or may not have something to do with race, gender, age and parental support. So once again I learn nothing. So in continuing my odyssey of unprovable ideas and theories we go back to Pluto and the old guy known as G...O...D!

So a few of the faithful were curious about how I knew God lived on Pluto. Well I am not really able to reveal that to you (Satellite transmissions into the fillings in my teeth). The good news is God decided it was ok that I continue to tell you all about how he came to be on Pluto. No more lightning bolts up my wazoo. Anyway it was several decades ago... some may even say millenia. The time was the 1970's and God was on earth in disco pants. They had super wide bells at the bottom that defied logic (but of course he is God and logic means nothing to him). He was about to release his first ever music album to the world, it was called 'Disco Blues'. It was an album that combined disco and blues together and had the side affect of blowing people's minds, literally! Anyway he played it for a test audience and their heads exploded and he knew we just were not ready yet. So he got on his huge cosmic skateboard and went to Pluto. At first he was very cold but then he remembered he was God and cold was not really a factor. As he relaxed in the icy splendor of Pluto he realized he needed a drink. So he summoned a lime tree with an endless supply of limes, an endless supply of coke and rum and has been drinking Cuba Libres since. He had a limitless supply of ice on Pluto to use for his ice cubes. At the rate he was drinking it actually began diminishing the size of pluto (you try making a big enough drink for God). Pluto's shrinkage caused us, mere mortals, to decide to demote it to a junior planet. So needless to say God is a little peeved that we would deem to change how Pluto is listed since it has been his place of residence since the '70's! If anything we should promote it to head planet in charge!

This was inspired by an earlier post Where God Lives!

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

What Day Is It?

Well I finally did it. It was a highly anticipated event by many of my faithful readers as there was a gambling pool on when it would happen. I think you all know the story. I have alluded to it for a while.

I agreed to move to Idaho and try my hand at potato farming! Or is it potatoe farming, former vice-president Dan? I am sure some of you are shocked but they offered me 2.5 cents per spud and promised me a .40 acre farm with a horse (Anybody want to be a horse?) pulled tractor. No sane potato loving farmer could pass that up. I will be moving next Tuesday if anyone wants to help. I promise a box of potatoes for those that help to arrive sometime within the next season. When I first get there I am going to live in a rabbit burrow. I hear it is very roomy if you are the size of a rabbit. I figure I am not taller then Bugs Bunny by my estimates and that should work fine besides he always looked like he had a pretty cushy set up. I hear the burrow has cable! I hear rabbits are very tidy people... I am very excited about this great opportunity! I better go pack!