Sunday, March 22, 2009

The 'About Damn Time' Edition

The History Books And Me
Despite my recidivist absenteeism, I would like to wish one and all a Happy New Year (I used to wish a happy "and prosperous" new year - but the suicide hot line is way too busy right now).

Time does indeed fly, albeit in coach. My goodness, it's already been two months since we attended the inauguration.

I did say WE. Meaning, us.

Even if, like me, you were nowhere near the District of Columbia on that day; didn't it feel, just for a moment, that we were all part of the same neighborhood? Together, we shared not only hope. Collectively, we felt the relief of survival. For an instant, we had climbed back into the sunlight after years of crawling in darkness.

On this occasion, I ambled toward our town square where a swarm of humanity embraced a communal gazebo. As the throng executed a diplomatic pivot toward a large projection screen - I headed toward another area of the plaza.

Feeling more solitary than pretentious (as I was sole occupant of the structure) - I stood in the remains of the old slave market.

In that globally shared snippet of time - I stood proud, relinquishing a tear to those history stained bricks, as Barack Obama placed a hand on Abraham Lincolns bible, and became President of the United States.

Never a country of quitters, we soon went back to blaming each other for everything. God Bless America, please hurry.

And that goes double for 'Axel F'
Have you ever been "followed" by a particular song? Y'know - sometimes it seems that a specific tune always seems to be on the radio in the car, or on a satellite system when you go out for a bite to eat. For a week or so, you might hear that song a couple/few times a day. I'm certain it's happened to you. It must have.

Usually, I'm one to take pleasure in these instances. I celebrate the organizational question marks that the universe lays upon us every now and then. When I am a music target, as pre-described, I'm generally pleased to get re-acquainted with a familiar tune.

However, this months pick is 'Walking In Memphis', which is beginning to make me a little nuts. Because, I fucking hate that song.

Thoughts on change
The state quarter of Montana features, on it's non-George side, a cow skull. Honestly, A Cow Skull. Tough state, that one. It's kind of a threatening declaration, dontcha think? "In God We Trust, but you ain't him, sucker."

Tales from the Homeland, part 657
"Recently, I was at the bank..." is how a number of my tales begin. I wonder why the type of situation I am about to express always happens to me at the bank. Also, why do I always seem to be at the bank? Comparatively, me going to the bank is akin to motoring by the greenhouse to drop off a twig.

So, uh, I was at in line at the bank - it was a Saturday morning - I felt a tug on my arm.

"Well, will you look at that?!?" The middle aged woman spoke, in a husky, non-hushed tone. The wispy tendrils of her free hand pointed out the dread locked hairdo of a gentleman ten foot ahead.

She continued, still clutching, and louder.

"Can you believe it?," she cawed "Lookit that hair!"

It was my chuckle which caused her to release my arm, and to cackle with mis-guided satisfaction; "Looks like he put peanut butter up there!"

I use the term "mis-guided" because, my sleeve stretching friend - that chuckle was not derived from the sight of that doting dad - teaching his child about how a bank works. No ma'am. I chuckled when the aroma of your exhalations forced me to realize what you'd enjoyed for breakfast, rummy.

I detest the future, always have. Don't even mention now to me, ask me later.
Ever since ole Ben Franklin declared taxes and death as life's dual unavoidables - it certainly seems we've spent the most effort trying to dodge both.

Old man reflects on times past
I've staggered around this burg for the better part of 20 years. during one of my inaugural strolls about town, getting acquainted with new friends, I found a bit of the absurdity which continues to enthrall me about this little city.

Window shopping in a retail district one evening, my pals and I had gathered in a storefront, when a figure emerged from the shadows. what direction this ominous creature descended from we had no idea. We did catch a glimpse of moonlight in his palm. Realizing the size of the blade headed toward us, we prepared for the inevitable handing over of wallets, purses, et cetera.

It was then that they mystery of this tiny tourist trap spoke out - in the tired, yet forceful voice of our presumed mugger:

"Uh, any o' you wanna buy a knife?"

Stunned, we offered a stuttered variation of "No, thank you.," but I have no idea what was actually spoken - or by whom.

Our visitor turned slowly. With a shrug and an "O.K., then" - he ambled up the block.

Now, DO NOT get me wrong. Oft times in this city Danger IS Danger. Once in a while, though, "Danger" is just an awkward salesman.

Thanks for tuning in to Escalatorville,
Z.F. Lively

The opposite of hate is tolerance. the opposite of love is unthinkable.