I’m at the doctor’s office, sitting on the uncomfortable green torture device, I mean table. Or is it a chair? No, couch? Whatever it is, it has a strip of white paper running under my behind to protect the next person from whatever is wrong with me. This sitting apparatus is not exactly made for comfort, and my back is starting to complain.
I started out by waiting in the waiting room. Boy, did they name that place correctly. There was some horrible home show on the TV with some guy blowing a whistle and screaming about auctions. Needless to say, he got on my nerves in about 30 milliseconds. I don’t know why he was blowing the whistle but I already had made plans about what I would do with it if he blew it one more time. I got to hear the conversation of the couple ten feet away, and now I know more about a stranger’s gastrointestinal maladies and trouble with his bathroom functions than I want, or need to. I’m going to file that nugget under, “Things you can’t unhear.” Continue reading Waiting…
Everybody was dressed in their Class A uniforms. The full nine yards. Boots and shoes were shined so bright that you could go blind if you looked at them too long. Everybody looked good.
The Sheriff walked up and down the line of Deputies, Correctional Officers and Professional staff, shaking hands and smiling at each of them. The only people missing were the deputies, dispatchers and correctional officers on duty. Everybody else was there. Continue reading Inspection
In 1972 I had a pair of purple bell bottoms with black pinstripes. As you wipe the tears of laughter from your eyes I will point out that there were two or three other guys with the same pants! We all bought them on sale at Zodys.
In 1974 I had long blond hair. It was parted down the middle, and I was the epitome of cool.
In 1977 I had a baby blue polyester leisure suit. I wore a white gauze shirt with embroidered cuffs and collar. Again, I was the epitome of cool. Continue reading Purple Bell Bottoms
My babies were dead. All ten of them. Wiped out in a moment of senseless violence. My children had been murdered, and my brother Greg had done it.
I loved my babies. My dad and I went to the lake and retrieved them lovingly, one by one. Oh sure, they were tadpoles now, but they would be turning into babies soon. I was going to raise them; I would be their dad. Continue reading Tadpole Babies
We had all of the fixings laid out to make Christmas chocolates. My mom had gotten out the hot plate, the chocolate for melting, strawberry jam, grape jelly, and some kind of marshmallow creme. Yep, we had everything we would need to make Christmas chocolates.
Except tuna. Continue reading Tuna Chocolates
A few years ago I was happily winging my way toward Monterrey Bay in my wife’s PT Cruiser. The stereo was blaring classic rock, I had just finished an In-N-Out Double Double and had an ice cold Diet Coke in the cupholder. Everything was great.
Then, only 45 miles from my destination the car began to act funny. As I pulled up to a stoplight in Los Banos, the car began to make a crunching noise. Then it wouldn’t go. You don’t have to be a master mechanic to know that these are bad things. Continue reading Choices
It all started with my grandpa…
“Why don’t you shave off your beard, Jerry? You look like a criminal.” Hardly the kind of support you look for from your grandfather, but his true thoughts nonetheless. His simple statement sent my head spinning. “What would I look like without my beard?” I wondered.
So I shaved it off. After twenty years with a mustache, over twelve years with a beard of some sort, I shaved it all off. Continue reading The Beard
Bernie stared at the floor, afraid to glance at the clock again. Time was dragging on. Two more minutes. Two more long, agonizing minutes until freedom.
His fellow captives had spoken of nothing but this day for the last month or so. Was it a rumor, were they really going to release us? Some believed; others were not so sure. There had been broken promises before, the food would improve, exercise time would expand. Just more broken promises.
It’s time! As the clock slowly moved into the appointed hour, the guard said, “Let’s do this in an orderly fashion, people. Stand up slowly, and march single file through the door and out into the courtyard.” Continue reading Bernie The Prisoner
I have a 1968 Mustang. It is a 6 cylinder with an automatic. I love the car, it is fun to drive and I get waves and thumbs up wherever I go.
I also have a 2008 Mustang. It is a 6 cylinder as well, with an automatic, but this one is a convertible.
Of the two Mustangs, the newer one is much nicer. My ’68 is a classic, but I wouldn’t want to drive a long distance in it. It is kind of noisy, doesn’t have a whole lot of power and doesn’t ride or turn particularly well. Sure, I could fix all those things by adding more modern parts to it, but it is still a car that is over 40 years old. Continue reading Old vs. New
“R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me…”
I have been thinking a lot about respect lately. Our society has kids who show a total lack of respect for their parents and teachers. My wife actually had a mom tell her, “I don’t make my daughter respect her teachers if she doesn’t think the teacher deserves it.” What? A teacher deserves common respect if for no other reason than that they show up each day to teach your brat, ma’am. Continue reading R-E-S-P-E-C-T