Life

 

I saw a scamper in the woods

I heard a shiver in the cold

I didn’t do my list of shoulds

then suddenly I was too old

 

My little Sister

I took me a shower

Washed with the soap

The dirt went down the drain –

I brushed my teeth

And combed my hair

Then washed my face again –

With Q-Tips, oh so carefully

I cleaned around each ear

softly dressed in Sunday clothes –

so no one else would hear –

I walked into the living room

Little Sis was there

looked my way, then sadly said,

“Nope -

still Cooties everywhere.”

  

My Phone

 

My phone

forever upside down

I dare not drop it

on the ground

The insides then

would surely mangle

this pricy, plastic

black rectangle,

It dings, it rings

and buzzes too

I pick it up

surprise - it’s you,

I say hello

you ask what’s new,

I touch the screen

when we are through,

It shows the weather

I need not guess,

It finds me here

with GPS,

Blips of news

not hard to take

I just ignore

it’s mostly fake,

My phone is nice

though not a thrill,

when every month

I see the bill.

📱

He lives in the Bog

 

Even the gators go the other way.

Looks like she couldn't decide

 

Pooh gets a bad batch of Honey

 

100 Acre Wood

The Tour

 

At one point during the tour I asked to see their system.

That Sir, is proprietary.

What do you mean?

It means we don’t want anyone out there doing the same thing we are doing.

Why not?

Because they could figure out how to do it cheaper and then charge less for the product.  We would lose sales.

Can’t you figure out how to do it cheaper?

Why should we compete with ourselves?

So you could lower your price and then sell more.  You’d have a larger audience. You’d make more money.

We believe if we keep the price high people will think they are getting a high- quality product.

Is it a high-quality product?

Not really.

Then why do you give these tours?  What is it you are so proud of?

We make a small fortune at the gift shop.  It’s where this tour ends up.

 

J. Peterman

 

So off course was his ship that the sky held no stars at all.  His compass spun uncontrollably and his crew had gone silent.  He was alone in his lostness.  

Even his internal chatter had begun to turn on him.  Doubt was festering, and fester doubt did for his confidence began to melt like the forgotten ice-cream cone laying over there on the table.

Sure, people saw it but no one stopped to clean it up.  If it lay there much longer it would begin to dry and then stain the tabletop.  And if it were allowed to exist throughout tomorrow's Sun – flies would gather.

Somewhere in the back of his mind the Captain knew.  He knew that should flies be drawn to the abandoned cone they would have had to come from the mainland.

Tomorrow, with his high-quality, brass spyglass he had ordered from Amazon, $73.00 with free shipping, he would scan the skies to see from which direction the flies were coming.  Then he would know and he would point his ship in that direction.

His internal chatter began to calm down, his confidence slowly building.

Suddenly - from the crow’s nest he heard, “Building!  I see a building.”

Everyone just assumed the building in question was on land.

Spirits rose - pirate flags were lowered.  The ship was returning home.

zc

Here in my Noggin

 

You are not real

You’ve got no arms –

You cannot feel

You have no charms –

It’s human traits

You mostly lack

Tis why

You’ll never write me back –

You live nowhere

But in my nog

Where other people

call my Blog

I’ve traced your roots

And found no speck –

a little me

the rest 

Spell Check.

 

Two Pears

 

= One Pair

A Happy Tune

 

Where now sits a house

There were trees and shadows and things in the night

Where now sits a house

I would imagine creatures and could see birds

Where built a foundation

Sunlight now hits - birds have moved on

Where walls now stand

There are windows looking out over an absence of trees

There is a roof deflecting rain and bushes leading to a door

Where a lawn now lays

Memories of a forest slip away

In the distance an ice-cream truck plays a happy tune

zc

 

Christmas Cards

 

Thanks to everyone who 

made it all happen.

I cannot - for the life of me

 

I’m not sure what nincompoop ever came up with that phrase but trust me when I say - the life of me is worth much more than remembering – whatever.

 

Actually this post was scheduled to be erased

but I have somehow misplaced my monitor eraser.

I usually keep it here in the center drawer 

of the desk'

It's not like me to misplace things.

Give me a minute - I'll find it.

I'll Stop Here - thank you very much.

 

On this day in History

 

December 21, 1856

Nelson Cootameyer

was the first behaviorists successful in

teaching animals to brush their own teeth.

Cooties would be easier to avoid

 

if we could see them.

 

To Throw or Not to Throw

 

Each and every post on this blog started with a blank page.  It was only through a combination of my brain and typing fingers that they were filled with what you see today. 

It may not be readily apparent but that simple combination is the correlation between Shakespeare and MAD magazine.  That is the unspoken truth that nobody talks about. 

It reminds me of that great… OH, what’s his name?  You know… He was the one who…  Boy, my mind these days.

Let’s start over, maybe it will come to me.  I remember it dealt with the Pavlovian response.  You remember, ring the bell – the dog salivates believing he is about to be fed…

Okay, I remember.  It was Alpo.  Jason Alpo, the guy who talked Ed McMann into doing TV commercials live.  Those were the days, I’ll tell you.

I believe it was those commercials that led to Stupid Pet Tricks on the Dave Letterman show.  Now there’s an active brain for you.  Filming watermelons being thrown off a roof, now THAT’s entertainment.  I doubt William Shakespeare ever thought of that.

 

An Active Listing

 

There are no shoes in the front hall, no aromas of cooking wafting through the house and no sounds of life beyond that which is occasionally heard in the walls.  The lockbox on the front door suggests the realtors have given up.  The scampering and nest building in the attic are signs that the new tenants, the woodland creatures, have moved in.

An open listing is what the squirrels, chipmunks, bats and insects wait for.  It is their invitation to survive winter indoors. Only every now and then do they glance out of the frosted windows at their previous home, the trees, hedges and rotted logs of the back yard, that are now frozen and snow covered.

It is a changing of the guard, so to speak.  With fresh wires and insulation to feast on they are free to lounge about without fear of a hawk watching their every move.  There are no predators or people, with the exception of a random showing, even humans with their feeble bait traps and annoying pesticides have left for parts unknown.  

This 3-bedroom, two bath house, with pantry, walk-in closets, den and plenty of storage is now theirs and they knew it the moment the sign went up in the front yard.

What was that?

 

The thing about the dark isn’t the unknown or the strange noises.

It’s not about your imagination running wild or your heightened sense of danger.

No – wait, yes, it is.  It’s all those things.

 

Forget what I just said.

 

Just below the surface

 I tied a string onto my cell phone

and carefully lowered it into the water.

The trick was pushing the button

to snap the picture.

OK, truth be told, the cell phone was in

a plastic sandwich bag

and the string was tied to the bag.

I've looked at clouds

 

from both sides now

It is altogether possible

 that a space craft has already landed here,

has touched down in a swamp -

and the space creatures were eaten

by gators.

It could happen

 

Brain Surgery - No Thanks

 

I am aware that the clothes I have already worn are in the laundry basket and the fresh, clean ones are hanging up.  I know the very basics of an automobile and am completely aware of the dangers and hazards of driving one.  I believe I have a firm grasp of conversational English and a rudimentary understanding of sign language for the deaf.

 

My motor skills appear normal for my age and my instincts, up to this point in time, have served me well, The part I cannot comprehend is why my brain does not realize it has had a stroke.  Apparently, it is not self-aware.

 

How can a brain not be aware of itself?  How does a house not know there is a window open somewhere letting the cold air in?  The furnace knows.  It is suddenly working harder to heat the house.  The curtains know.  They are excitedly flapping to alert someone, anyone.

 

A few houses along the same street have noticed the open window but so far have not said anything.  Why is that?  An open window is not contagious.  Maybe it’s my neighborhood watch.  Maybe they have fallen down on the job.  Surely an open window would be worthy of their report.

 

Thinking about it, however, these are volunteer positions.  No one is getting paid to participate in a neighborhood watch program.  Maybe my brain looks at things the same way.  

"Why should I snitch?  What’s in it for me?"

 

I Hate This Dream

 

It is a very old city, although new to me.  So easy to get turned around, lost.  Cobblestone streets, narrow – uneven.  The feel is cold and impersonal.  My outlook for today is nothing.  I have no expectations, only hunger.  I’d like to come across a café and get a hot coffee – maybe a pastry but I doubt I even know what the currency is.  The language couldn’t be more foreign, the signs – forget about it.   I am fully aware this is a dream and yet I find myself here every night.  What does it mean?  Where am I and why am I here?

How is it I am now smelling coffee?  Is it just up ahead?  Maybe around this next bend?  Without even thinking about it my hands dig into my pockets for change.  There is nothing, no car keys, no papers.  What’s the matter with me?  How did I get here?

From behind me I hear footsteps.  This seems unfamiliar.  I don’t remember anyone else in this dream.  It has always been just me.  Should I stop – turn around and look?  Why is it suddenly different?  They are not high heels.  They sound more serious, if shoes can sound serious.  They are deliberate and getting closer.  Shoes can be deliberate.  I’m thinking nonsense.  My thoughts have gone off the rails.  Is this it for me?

Around the corner there is a café.  I know this place and instantly I can feel there are coins in my pants pocket.  I take a seat at the counter.  A middle-aged lady with too much makeup, wearing an apron asked what I would like.

I dig the coins out of my pocket and place them on the counter.  Is this enough for coffee and one of those pastries?  She nods.  Her cigarette bounces as her head moves.

“What about those?” she asks.

I turn and look behind me.  There, on the floor, are a pair of deliberate shoes.

 

 

This Has to Be...

 A Government project.

Five O-Clock Owl

 

There is a 5 o-clock Owl

and 6:30 Crows

that refuse to sleep in

just why, Heaven knows

 

A dog barks at joggers

who try to stay fit

They are up before dawn

before anything’s lit

 

There’s a list of to-dos

bouncing round in my head

and a 5 o-clock Owl

as I previously said

 

There’s a fog on the lake

and a chill in the air

An uncomfortable ceiling

when I lay there and stare,

 

So I guess I’ll get up

shake off morning dew

turn on the computer

and send this to you.

 

 

A Whisper of Wind

 

It wasn’t what anyone would call warm inside the old cabin.  Snow drifts piled high around three sides, with a very thin shoveled path at the front door.  A whistle of wind was making its way through a crack in the wood next to the kitchen window causing the lantern to flicker more than it should.

I wasn’t worried about provisions.  I had a completely stocked pantry and enough lamp oil to get me through the rest of winter.  No, my greatest concern was the uninvited guests that could possibly see the smoke from the chimney and knock upon my door.

If such an intruder had the virus, then I could certainly accommodate their needs for a few nights, but should anyone show up who has had the government issued inoculation then absolutely not.  No one had anticipated the grisly side effects or drastic behavioral changes seen in those treated.  It was as if the entire country was in a Stephen King novel, with no happy ending in sight.

What began in Europe as a few isolated incidents, quickly became connected with local homicide cases.  The news media were instructed to keep a lid on things, but in no time at all there was widespread panic based on the stories that did get into the press.

Mandatory lockdown orders from the governor were ignored by those suffering the effects of the vaccine.  In no time at all the jails were full and make-shift holding tanks were established.  Hospitals and their parking lots became war zones.  It was never safe to be outside, especially after dark.

Only a few close friends knew about my cabin and they also knew better than to come up here.  So any knock on the door would most certainly be some stranger, someone lost or someone up to no good.  I’d like to think I would give people the benefit of the doubt, but if it came right down to it, who knows?  Anything could happen.

Breakfast Woods

 

There are Trees of Shredded Wheat,

though you'll need your own bowl -

and although they aren't spoon-size,

in the very early morning

they are Frosted.

Some climbing required.

 

Today's Date

 

A Letter to You,

 

Hi.  First I’d like to thank you for reading my blog.  I know it is 99.9% gibberish and nothing here really amounts to anything, yet here you are, day after day.  Sometimes you even let the important things go just so you can come and see what I have written.  That is impressive but I hope you are not becoming obsessed with it. 

I mean, I haven’t heard you vacuuming in a while, and I know last week you were going to get the oil changed in your car but instead you put it off.  You came in here and spent – I forget how much time, just looking back over some old posts.

What is it you are hoping to find?  Did you see something once that caught your attention and now you can’t remember what it was, or even if it was here in this blog?  Nothing should be that important that you put your life on hold for this.  I guess that is why I thought I had better write to you directly, you know, before this gets out of hand.

Here’s what I suggest, try limiting yourself to just one hour a day.  It doesn’t matter when, any hour of the day, but make it the same time every day.  That way you won’t end up sitting here for hours at a time.  You do know, don’t you, that you only have so many days left?  No, I haven’t heard anything.  I’m just saying, the clock keeps ticking no matter what you are doing, so don’t waste your life staring at this screen.

I’ll tell you what, whenever you are not in here just turn out the lights in the room, maybe close the blinds.  Just make it dark.  That way when I’m here working on this blog I won’t be looking at your empty chair.  I’ll just know that something more important has come up and that you will be back later.

I wouldn’t suggest that you be gone for days at a time.  I mean, remember – I will be looking at a dark room, wondering what you are doing, where you have gone.  Maybe you’ve forgotten about me.  How am I to know?  There are other blogs out there, some a lot fancier than this.  Maybe you’ve outgrown me.  It is all together possible you’re tired of me.  Who could blame you?  Look at this…  It’s pathetic; no moving animation, very few pictures. No spark.

 

And Left-to-Write, now what’s that all about?  Who needs it?

 

I’m outta here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Resolution - 2021

 

My choice for the new year is Happy

I won’t do as I’m told – I’ll grow a bit old –

and avoid things that make me feel crappy.

 

My socks will all match as they lay in the drawers

If a cold I should get, rest assured you can bet

I’ll sneeze into my elbow - not yours.

 

Although it’s a crime, poems won’t always rhyme

so your tongue it may stumble as my meter may crumble

and you’re left with a thought in the air -

I’ll not get uptight, it will all turn out right

If it don’t, I doubt I will care.

zc

The Police

 were able to get a partial print.

In the Huddle

 

40 Feet within a Blink

 

They live in the woods.  They are extremely quick and have ultra-keen vision.  In fact, they only move when they see you momentarily look away.  

When they are standing still you could be looking directly at them, yet never see them.  They can travel about 40 feet within a blink and you’ll never hear them.  Your only response will be to think – you saw something move, but you are never sure, and they’ll be right up on you before you can say Stephen King.

They aren’t the only ones of course living in that unseen dimension, but they are the only ones that enjoy taunting humans.  Much like people sneaking up on sleeping cows and tipping them over, these guys scoot right up to your imagination, jump out into your peripheral vision and then just as quickly – step to the side.

If you hear anything at all, it’s an ever so slight giggle.

Food for Thought

 

We pass in clusters.  The mass of us you see here were all born and live on this planet at the same time.  Of course, we each depart on our own schedule, but the cluster of us is, for the most part, a specific collection of people.  There are X number of doctors, engineers, schoolteachers, bums, muggers and factory workers.  Sprinkled into the mix are firemen, policemen, con men, the rich, the struggling and the middle class.

But for now, it’s the collection I wish to focus on.  Our particular cluster doesn’t have Henry Ford, or Lewis & Clark.  Our cluster has Neil deGrasse Tyson, The Beatles and you and I to name a few.

The point of this is to assist us in examining our own function.  The question of, why are we here, can never be answered until we first examine the general function of our particular cluster.

A key aspect of the cluster is its starting and ending point.  I’m sure you can see where this would be a very debatable issue.  It cannot be a solid line, identifying a specific division, but rather an abstract blur of time and events, with some events experiencing abrupt endings, while others festering in memories, leaving confusion as to their exact reality.

Think of it this way; you take a standard #2 pencil and one sheet of typing paper.  You draw a sketch upon the page.  We can all see the sketch.  We all heard the dry scraping sound of the pencil lead across the paper, and although each of us may see the drawing as something different, none of us knows exactly how many pieces of typing paper there were in the stack.  This page has this sketch, seen by these people.  Human knowledge has built-in limitations, whereby none of us is privy to that cluster of paper, whose partial function has now been to accommodate the theoretical sketch. 

Okay, you just lost me.  I was with you right up to the 

guy drawing something on the page, but you follow that

up by saying it was a "theoretical sketch."

How am I supposed to deal with that?  What's real

and what isn't?  And how does something not end,

but simply fester in someone's memory?

I don't think this is food for thought at all.

I think it's a recipe for indigestion.

Sometimes in Nature

 

Strange things Grow.

Just like, sometimes people

grow strange.

So what is Art

 

and what is simply a mess?

The 100 Acre Wood

 

There is no telling where

 

the Christmas spirit will show up.

FIVE STAR RATING

 

There are a great number of products on the market that get a five-star rating - as long as you never use them.  They are clever, fun to look at and absolutely useless. 

Do yourself a favor.  Before you buy, read the reviews.  Hear what the people have to say that have already spent their money and tried these products.

The DVD rewinder is a good example, also the yard catapult, if you look closely, just below the picture, you’ll see the words, Actual Size.

Advertisers walk a fine line, and leave even a finer print.  They sell you on an idea, that may or may not be ready for market.  These ads are always in high gloss, with brilliant colors and are shown being used by smiling morons, jumping up and down.  Give me a break.

If the Energizer Bunny keeps breaking through the base drum, then it isn’t a stronger battery, it is a defective toy.

Wake-up People.

 

This is ZC with your Holliday review.

Seasons Greetings

In the News

"Catch a falling star

and put it in your pocket

save it for a rainy day -

Catch a falling star

and put it in your pocket

never let it fade away..."

 Tragedy struck Muncy Indiana last Thursday when Mr. Nelson Heymeyer, of 714 N. Loyola Street, attempted a romantic gesture for his estranged wife, Wanda Heymeyer.

Spurred on by the lyrics of an old Perry Como song, Nelson positioned himself directly into the path of a falling star.  

Onlookers said he just stood there, holding his pants pocket open.

The glowing projectile traveling at some 30,000 miles per second…

 

Story continued on 3C, below the fold.  (Nelson’s, not the papers)