Brighter Days

Although there really is very little rhyme or reason (~certainly not “ Reasoning” ) involved in these essays that I post from time to time, I suppose that even where fiction is concerned there is always some element, or aspect, that comes from within the author himself however ridiculous,   inane,   horrible or even comically intended that piece may be. I write because I feel moved to do so, whether it’s because I feel compelled to describe some truly weird event happening in my terribly uninteresting life, or because I’m bored of my so-called existence here and would rather choose to express something more compelling (-to me mind you ) than to contemplate another useless day of my own as it would normally unravel before me. Some of the folks who read the things that I write are friends and family members and I am honored that they take the time occasionally to glance here and to look at what I have to say every so often. Apparently some of the individuals reading my ...

Well here it is another Thanksgiving come and gone with Christmas hurrying around the corner like Lance Armstrong on an anabolic high and New Years’ soon to be just another memory before we even have time to put away the funny looking pointy party hats. The Holiday season often seems to drag out getting here but once Turkey day arrives it’s an all out sprint to January One and if you get too caught up in the whirlwind rush of festivity preparation it becomes all too easy to miss out on the importance of these get-togethers to begin with. Now I don’t mean to get off on a rant here and I certainly know better than to weigh in on any of the religious overtones that tend to be so closely associated with this Holiday time of year. I’m a bit older now which goes without saying, we all are. Unfortunately older doesn’t mean wiser –at least not in my case apparently (-or at any rate that’s what younger folks seem to want to point out, but hey they’re “younger” so what the hell do they...

October 2012   ~HAPPY BIRTHDAY…HAPPY BIRTHDAY…HAPPY BIRTHDAY…HAPPY BIRTHDAY…!!!   Dear Sarah: Well hopefully this should reach your humble little doorstep on the appropriate day this coming Saturday, and, well if by chance NOT, I plan to blame it on the U.S. Postal service, the weather, gas prices, Plague-n-Famine, and a whole host of other potential possibilities other than myself and singularly Poor Planning on my part! You have been on my mind much lately and not just because of the forthcoming National Celebration of your much adored birth (~as if that wasn’t enough you may add) –will there be parades this year or is that planned for 2013?   No I actually do tend to think about my sister and her little brood of Boys-to-Men down South in “F-da” (-just made that up right there on the spot for you –“F-duh”, I kinda like it although perhaps it does gravitate a little towards the PG-13 in a Freudian-slip kinda unintentional way). I thought that per...

~An Update of sorts to “…And Laugh” dated September 18 th ….. I suggest skipping to the next post before returning here to glimpse these most recent macabre developments… So anyhow it has become increasingly apparent that inanimate objects (-in particular Automobiles) and me have some innate problem in the development of “healthy” long lasting and fruitful relationships. Actually in retrospect my ability to maintain any realistic normalcy in basic fundamentally social interactions is likely questionable too –but for now let’s just stick to cars in order to retain some focus, some succinctness…. In case you choose to first read this instead of taking my advice and skipping below for some relatively important background information regarding these most recent developments of the last 48 hours, I’ll try and relate a quick (-impossible for me) synopsis to get us up to speed-: My Honda has had some fairly unacceptable misfortunes over the last several weeks and my ability to...

These last few months or so I’ve been responsible for taking care of a young man who happens to have some substantial challenges in his life. Terrific guy and who among us can truly say that we are without the need for help in some form or another from the others in our daily migrations within our often, at times, chaotic existences…. At any rate, several weeks ago my friend and I were travelling in my car on a Saturday towards one of the movie theatres here in the western “hills” of North Carolina where we now both live. As we approached our destination that afternoon my cellphone rang w/a caller ID which indicated that it was a friend calling not for me but for my current travelling companion, who, at the time, was napping. As I swung into the theatre parking lot I nudged this sleeping person awake and handed him the phone w/his buddy holding on the other line. ~Now I probably should mention that at times I can be cheap and that my cellphone and network carrier reflect this...

~The path hemmed and hawed its way through tree lined latticework, mountain laurels and magnolias, bloodroot and bluet crowding for space in the meandering dirt and stone strewn expanse. Larger rocks and stray boulders some cleaved in two stricken perhaps by lightening or from earths great hellish heaving’s during some long ago terrestrial cataclysm and then pitched down the hillsides hither and yon to stand randomly like sentries from another world. Marauding old and twisted knees and elbows of larger trees broke up and through the surface of the lane as if requesting help, pleading their case. An occasional glimpse through wrecked and fallen timbers displaced a thick and gauzy haze exploding heavenward from out of the earth itself, silent, erect and vertically swirling, smoke-like apparitions, the ghosts of morning dew, damp fire pouring forth from the dawn of the newly baptized day, as if the mountains themselves were aflame and retching out some demented and forsaken anguish....

~The Old man snatched up his cards and ferried them broadways across the table to the dealer. He’d stayed long into the night and the time to leave this place had long since passed. He scooped up the tokens that were his and counted them out stacking them orderly by color and pushing them forward towards the man whose shack he and the rest had been sharing the evening with. The host recounted the stacks setting them back neatly into the stained   and leathered box that housed the chips and cards along with an old worn Texas Instruments calculator he’d used to total up the dividends of many an evening past spent. The host tallied up the count and uncoupled the hasp of the old cigar box that he’d used to ferret away the notes and coins which the players had traded for earlier in the evening and as necessary throughout the game. He pulled out a small sheaf of bills and a handful of assorted pocket change and handed the folded notes and coins to the old man. The old man crumpled ...