Cursing Hitler

House lights and street lights flickered and dimmed,
as the din of air raid sirens flooded every corridor
like ice cold blood rushing down from the hills.
Soon every light went black, and every sound went silent,
and every breath was held, and every hand was clenched.
Even the iron hands of the old town clock were too afraid to move.

Time stood still, and all the people in the city stood frozen.
But on this night instead of the hum of airplanes approaching,
the coarse scratch of a wood match against a concrete wall broke the silence,
and the flickering face of a withered old man lit the room.
Time moved for him alone as he inhaled from his pipe, and dropped the match.
Pushing through the stillness he opened a door, and stepped into the street.

“I’m sick of your bloody fucking war!” he cursed.
Then he looked up, puffing his tobacco,
and dared the sky to answer him.
Tired and proud, he stood alone,
and he waited, unwavering,
for Hitler to respond.

  

It Just Can’t Get Any Better Than This... Can It?

 
What a great day it was today. The sun was perched up over the house with a big warm grin on its face, and for the first time this year it actually felt like a proper springtime afternoon. Now I didn’t want to insult Mother Nature by staying indoors, so I decided I‘d go give the lawn its second mowing of the season. I used to think that mowing the lawn was a chore, but that was before I’d advanced from the drudgery of push mowing to the pleasures of motorized lawn tractor mowing, which is really just an excuse for drinking a beer and smoking a cigar in the middle of the week, while driving around in circles. You can’t say that about vacuuming now can you ladies? Of course not, so into the closet the vacuum cleaner went, and out the back door I went to answer the beckoning call of a manlier chore, with an ice cold beer in one hand, and a counterfeit Cuban cigar in the other.

In no time at all I was out there on the track lapping the competition… “Outta my way donkey! Look out goat!” Around the tree, past the horseshoe pits, and down the fence line I went. Mowin’ and drinkin’ and smokin’ and bouncin’ my way around the rutted weed carpeted grounds of Johnson Manor. Then about a half a beer later as I was cruzin' by the back deck I thought to myself “Man, it just can’t get any better than this.”

But then a glint of golden sunlight bounced off the glass French doors over by the hot tub, and shot back across the deck straight toward my amber bottle of now warm foamy refreshment, which it struck with an inspiring sparkle that caused me to amend my previous thought to “Man, maybe it could get better than this.” Then I looked back up at those glass French doors as my thoughts continued to drift… “Maybe a topless woman could come walking out of that doorway there, and bring me a fresh ice cold bottle of beer.” You know, because I was working so hard.

Yep, that’s me, the eternal optimist. So as I was riding around the yard smoking like a chimney and drinking like a fish… oh yeah, and mowing the grass, I pulled out my phone and called up the wife up at work and said “Hey honey, why don’t you leave the office early today? …Yes, you deserve it …Yeah, and when you get home could you grab me a beer, but before you bring it outside to me could you take off your….”

“Hello? ...hello?”

Darn cell phones. She must have had a bad connection. Hmmm, maybe I should call her back. I forgot to tell her which kind of beer I wanted.

Of Bottles and Diapers

  

Over the past couple days we’ve been taking care of a 2 month old little girl (the human variety.) Sure people occasionally drop off their dogs, cats and goats at my place, but seldom am I entrusted with a member of a higher species. Wait… before you panic, let me inform you that I did raise a couple kids of my own just a quarter (and change) of a century ago, so as they say it’s just like riding a bike, right?

Wrong! It’s more like riding a unicycle… on a high-wire, while juggling flaming chainsaws (Tickets still available for the midnight, and 4:00am shows.) Well to be honest, my wife is the one doing most the juggling. I’m just standing down here under the net giving her moral support, and assisting with some of the props (oh so many props!) and as I assist (safely out of spit-up range) I’m gaining a new level of respect (and sympathy) for my all grandparenting friends out there who do this sort of thing regularly.

Oh by the way, Mama will be stopping by at 4:00 this afternoon to pick up her adorable little chainsaw.

Parallel Universe

  

In a parallel universe moss and dandelions are prized, and mole hills are considered a luxury. As I walked down the driveway this morning to pick up my Sunday newspaper I accidently stepped into that universe for just a moment, and as I looked back at the house I realized that I have the nicest yard on the block.

Easter Morning

  

When I realized it was Easter this morning I ran to the refrigerator, flung open the door and yelled at the eggs “Run for your lives!” They just sat there looking up at me like the light was bugging ‘em or something. Just goes to show you can only help those who are willing to help themselves.

The Rite of Spring

  

Ah, the smell of fresh cut grass! Yes that’s right, today was the opening day of lawn mowing season here at Johnson Manor. It’s that special time of year when I hop on the old Cub Cadet, shift the lever from turtle to rabbit speed, pull out the choke and turn the key to begin the initial harvest of spring. Fuel and adrenalin surge as I feel the power of the machine with its twenty horses rumbling beneath me, and I feel my farming ancestors as they channel through my veins. Then with the mighty tractor’s finely tuned engine revving and its newly sharpened blades spinning in unison, I drive onto the lawn where I immediately begin flinging chipped rocks and bits of lost reading glasses all over the yard as the goats and donkeys run for cover; and then I pause to wonder, as chunks of rubber dog toys ricochet off the back of the house, why any engineer worth his college degree would design a riding lawnmower with only one beer holder.

C.E.O. Position Available:

Large American Corporation seeks C.E.O. with right qualifications. Applicant must be willing to accept obscenely large salary, benefit, and bonus package in compensation for slashing the wages and benefits of hourly employees, and eliminating hourly positions when and wherever possible. A successful applicant is one who can place short term profits above the long term health of the company, the community, and the environment. A successful applicant is one who favors modern marketing techniques over personalized service or quality products to maintain a strong customer base. The moral inability to deny a family a home, deny a woman her rights, deny a man his dignity, or deny a child a doctor may disqualify any applicant from this position. If chosen for this position you will be granted a chauffeured limousine, a company jet, and a seven city condo package. If you do not already have a trophy wife, one will be appointed to you at orientation. Large American Corp. is not an EEO employer. Wealthy white male psychopaths encouraged to apply.