River Rocks

          It wasn’t anyone’s fault, although the mosquitoes didn’t help.  It’s simply the nature of river rocks to be slippery; it’s all they know how to be.  I was the first one across, then Sally and Sarah, followed by Nate and Wally.  Wally and his new boots.  By the time Wednesday had rolled around we were all tired of hearing about Wally’s new boots and as he started across the river he chimed in again on how absolutely perfect they were.  I’m sure the rest were thinking the same thing I was, for that much money they better be perfect.  Sally and I were already up on shore when Nate leaned forward to help Sarah manage the last little jump onto solid ground.  Everyone seemed to ignore Wally’s muttering but when he slipped the second time and his legs went out from under him we were all too far away to try to reach out.

          It was just that quick.  I’ve heard people say that when accidents happen they see things in slow motion.  I can’t say what Wally was going through but for the rest of us it was the blink of an eye.  A little yell - a splash and down stream he went.  That evening, around the campfire we finally began to talk about it.  Everyone just assumed he had hit his head when he fell.  There was no splashing around, no arm waving and no crying out, just this body rushing down river, bouncing about in the rapids, disappearing for a while and then bobbing up further away.

          We couldn’t even report the incident as nobody had any cell reception.  It would just have to wait.  The complexion of the group was sullen.  During the daylight hours Nate and I took turns carrying Wally’s things along with our own.  Sarah thought we should have put up a grave marker at the edge of the river where he had fallen in.  At the time no one commented on her suggestion and we all just let it drop, but now – thinking back on it, investigators are going to want to know exactly where it happened, when and how.  It was already two days in the past and nobody wanted to go back, physically or mentally.

          It was late into November when I saw the final report of the investigator.   After reading it a second time through I called Nate and asked if he had seen a copy. 

          “I know.  Can you believe that?” and then he began laughing. 

          I’m sure it was somehow inappropriate but I too joined in laughing.  This is unbelievable.

          “At first I wasn’t going to show the girls but this is too good.”

          I know, right?  Hitting his head on the rocks wasn’t the cause of death.  Turns out Wally’s boots were so airtight that it was like having a balloon tied to each foot.  They were holding his feet up out of the water and consequently his head under.

The End

         

You

Light up my Life.

A Tribute to Dr. Johnny Fever

WKRP

Which is Which?

Here is a picture of a Thomas’s English muffin.  According to advertising they are comprised of nooks and crannies. 

This photograph has not been altered.  The picture was taken in standard, over-head room lighting with no special filters or lenses.  The shadow in the lower, right corner was caused by me leaning over the muffin to snap the picture.  I apologize for that.

So here’s my question:  Which is a nook and which is a cranny?

Please send your answers to:

Zobostic Corwin

Subject line:  Muffin

zobosticc@gmail.com

and just so you know, there are no prizes for correct answers, however, the most creative response will be published on this Blog.

Dear Private Sector

No longer can I be laid off, let go or downsized.  Never again can I be passed over for promotion or assigned grunt work because I've done something you don't agree with.  My life is free of supervision, management and projects.  I will have zero employees reporting to me, calling in sick leaving me short staffed or sneaking smokes out behind the building when they should be working.

Companies run by Frank Burns and Les Nessman types can no longer reach me.  To every business owner having a  million dollars and no sense, I am not available for meetings or conference calls.  There will be no charts, graphs or Power Point presentations.  I remain immune to schedules and deadlines.

I am retired.  

Feel free to make three copies of this letter and file it under:  Unlisted.

Multiple Choice

1.     This gate is designed to keep something in.

2.     The lock on this gate keeps something out.

3.    The metal ring only needs to be on one post.

4.    This makes a better photograph than gate.

5.     Old technology works just fine.

6.    All of the above.

Do It Yourself - Home Project

It Doesn't Matter

if you're Republican or Democrat.

There are telltale signs if a politician 

has been in your yard.

Says it All

Is it better like this

or like this?

or like this?

Collecting Shells along the beach

in Normandy

Dear Zobostic,

"I find this to be in extremely poor taste.  You have apparently lowered your standards.  We have come to expect so much more from you.  I hope you'll do better in the future."

As always, this blog prints opposing views

whenever possible.

Keep in mind, it's not always possible.

Big Bang Theory

It began several years ago.  Edgar had decided to make a meatloaf for dinner.  He gathered his ingredients together, washed his hands and began to blend everything.

In one large bowl he placed the ground sirloin.  In a separate bowl he mixed one egg, salt, pepper, ketchup, bar-b-q sauce, and meat tenderizer.  He mixed those ingredients together before adding it to the sirloin.

Once everything had been poured over the meat he again washed his hands and then, with his hands, blended the mixture into the beef.

Over and over he worked his fingers into the meat, making sure it was all blended completely.  Once that part was complete, he rinsed his hands and then added the Italian bread crumbs.  Then he mixed it all again.

Placing his creation onto his meatloaf pan he slid it into the 350 degree oven and left it there for one hour.  When the loaf showed 160 degrees inside temp, he took it out to cool.

That week Edgar enjoyed wonderful meatloaf for dinner.  What he had not realized was while mixing the meatloaf with his hands, the meat tenderizer had softened his hands to the extreme.  Edgar suddenly had the softest touch in town.  So much so that people began to notice.

Soon he found himself the center of attention.  His name and picture appeared in the local paper, he was getting phone calls night and day, until one day he received a call from the government.

Uncle Sam wanted Edgar to train in their bomb squad.  They wanted the man with the gentle touch to become their expert at disarming bombs.

Edgar was beside himself.  That, as you can well imagine, caused great confusion. Fortunately, or unfortunately- depending on how you look at it, the government snatched up the wrong Edgar, leaving the real, soft touch, meatloaf eating Edgar behind.

Central Air

Needs roof, new walls, flooring,
windows, paint, driveway, landscaping.

Seller motivated.

It's for the Pigeons

Photo of the Weak

This photograph won 2nd place in the
National Conservation Photography competition.

 It took first place in the Harmony classification until the
judging committee discovered there were originally
three ducks.

Trout Fishing in America

A strange & enjoyable

book.

Page 102:

The Cleveland Wrecking Yard

(My favorite story)

Crouch Down

You need to keep low

so the enemy doesn't see you

even lower...

How's this?

Sleeping in

The pitter-pat of gentle rain

The quiet whoosh of summer breeze

The grind and clank of garbage trucks

I missed my trash day once again.

The pile grows throughout the week

Neighbors giving me the eye

Squawking crows will soon compete

with dogs, raccoons and flies.

Driveway strewn with orange peels

empty cans in disarray

Envelopes that carried bills

I was very late to pay.

Old Kleenex that once caught a sneeze

Candy wrappers – Hershey Bar

The quiet whoosh of summer breeze

Across my lawn it’s spread quite far.

Had I not hit the snooze alarm

ten more minutes – let me sleep

All my trash would do no harm

I instead just counted sheep.