On The Cover of the Rolling Stone

 

 

 

 

 

Searching for Doctor Hook.

 

 

 



The Key

It was a key of sorts and the more I turned it the tighter I could feel the spring getting.

When the key would not turn any more it somehow made me feel good, and not just a feeling of accomplishment.  Exactly why I felt good I couldn’t say; I just did.

I didn’t give it another thought and just kept going about my business. 

That afternoon I cleaned out my garage, no small task, and after that I took several bags of empty cans and bottles to the recycling center. On my way back I made one stop at the hardware store but just to look around.  Its a guy thing.

Once home again I fixed dinner and popped it into the oven.  While that was cooking I ran the vacuum around the den and living room.

After dinner I put my TV tray away and cleaned up the dishes.  I leaned back in my favorite chair and clicked on the evening news.

I could tell I was finally beginning to unwind.

 

 

Product Placement

 

Even though it gets dull

guess what – so do I –

I’ve switched to a pencil

no pens, not for I,

 

No pens with their skipping

or smeary ink blotches,

No Paper-mates, Bics

or costly Mont Blanc’es,

 

No unsightly stains

below my shirt pocket,

Can’t run out of ink

half way through the docket,

 

No clicky-top noises

from push button tips -

Just sounds of co-workers

munching Frito Corn Chips.

 

 

 



I Call This Piece "S"

 

 

 

 



It's not like I make this stuff up...

 

 

 



I Liked it Better

 

 

when keys didn’t chirp.



 

 

 

 

 

 

(Not one of my photos - but I like it)

 



A Favorite - Really?

 

 



When they ran out of gas they simply pulled off the highway and set up camp.  They had been headed to the desert to camp anyway so why not here?

 

They got themselves far enough away from the road to be safe but still close enough to hear any help that might come along.

 

By that afternoon the wind had kicked up so hard they had to keep their faces buried in their hands to protect their eyes from all the sand, which was a shame because they never got to watch their tent go sailing up, spin around and finally fly out of sight, like some very expensive tent-shaped kite.

 

The only reason the arguing lasted into the evening was because you-know-who had locked the keys in the truck, so getting at the batteries and lamp oil was out of the question.

 

The ultimate decision to leave the truck there and start walking back to the highway in search of help had been unanimous. 

Had they left some kind of marker along the edge of the road they might have eventually been able to return to the spot where they had started, but of course they didn’t. 

 

Funny thing – even though they never did find their truck again, for some reason you-know-who’s dad had a major fit over the fact that they had lost his favorite shovel.