At the Corner of Walnut and Crescent
Sunday, February 18, 2018
Only Male Birds Sing
Only Male Birds Sing by l. choy
Prologue
They were mewing loudly when Sam brother began shoveling loose dirt on top of the kittens. One flicked its ears, another covered its eyes with a tiny paw when dirt was showered on top of their spotted gray fur. They were wiggling and crawling over each other, desperately trying to extend their lives. The hole wasn't very deep so it took little time for those five tiny fur balls to be covered. I watched them slowly disappear as if erased from a blackboard. The mewing got weaker and then...stopped. Sam brother bent over and with the back side of the spade forcefully pounded the mound of dirt flat. His face was in neutral. I felt more of curiosity than remorse. I had as yet acquired empathy. I was six years old when I witness this event.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
My Fairy Godmother is Dead
My
Fairy Godmother is Dead
Did you know that Jesus wasn't an only child? In fact two of his brothers helped write the New Testament. To top it
off, the majority of the authors never interviewed him;
maybe because...they never met the Man? So a lot that was ever written about Him was all supposition. One of the major authors of the New
Testament, Saint Mark, was only a child when he saw Jesus, and only from a
distant. Saint Paul met Jesus' but only as a ghost. Scared the hell out of him. It was a dark night, you see, and he was all alone.
I discovered this unsettling fact when I did some research to prepare for my first Sunday school class. I was just past my teen-age years and the pastor volunteered me because I looked like a Neanderthal who could frighten uncivilized nine- year-olds to keep their seats.
But, getting back to the New Testament, it's not that what the Biblical authors said were true or false, but I was disappointed that Jesus never went on record to verified the quotes attributed to Him while he was preaching (because most of the authors never met the man and therefore no verification?. ...oh, I already said that). Regardless, I still had faith. I believed in fairy godmothers who are always watching over us.
I discovered this unsettling fact when I did some research to prepare for my first Sunday school class. I was just past my teen-age years and the pastor volunteered me because I looked like a Neanderthal who could frighten uncivilized nine- year-olds to keep their seats.
But, getting back to the New Testament, it's not that what the Biblical authors said were true or false, but I was disappointed that Jesus never went on record to verified the quotes attributed to Him while he was preaching (because most of the authors never met the man and therefore no verification?. ...oh, I already said that). Regardless, I still had faith. I believed in fairy godmothers who are always watching over us.
It wasn't the same for the tooth
fairy. I really believed until I
was the age of six when I caught my mom slipping the coin under my pillow when
she thought I was asleep. It shook my
belief in tooth fairies and dragons in closets. I blame her for the neurosis that I developed
later in life. She was a caring and a
loving parent, the kind that, when I was still in high school, would iron my Levis even after I told
her not to. The bullies just zeroed in
on me.
Not that I have lost faith in my fairy godmother when Trump was elected president (being a f--king moron doesn't disqualify you). He’s just being a run-of-the-mill normal human being showing enough empathy to get elected, but not enough to offend groups such as the NRA. Don’t think for a moment that we humans are more
caring and loving than other species.
I’ve seen blue jays feeding their babies and cleaning their nest by putting in their mouths the baby’s
excrement (shit) and spitting it out over the
edge of the nest. Can we humans top that?
Yet, I was sorely tested when I found
out that this corporate giant, Facebook, without my permission, has publicized the date of my
birthday, and telling everyone to wish me a
happy birthday. If some nameless persons forget to e-mail a birthday greeting, or the greeting is lost in the cloud, wouldn't some harm be done? Worst still, supposing (and it
can happen) there is no response at all to Facebook’s request for a birthday greeting for a person, and this lack of response is seen by everyone. Damn, was I
hurt. No, no, it wasn’t me…just a
Freudian slip. But it could happen and
the damage to one’s ego could be debilitating. There was nothing I could do against this corporate giant, yet, I kept the faith.
But then, my fairy godmother began to slip away from my life when I received this notice accompanying my phone bill which
stated, “If your phone is out of order, or if it doesn’t work, please call
us. Your business is very important to
us.” Or when I noticed that a roll of toilet paper is now shorter by an inch, or that sugar is now sold
in 4lb bags rather than the standard 5lb...and we still pay the same
price. Perhaps the manufactures hope we
wouldn’t notice? Or when they tell us
that the new tires are closer to the rims because it’s more stylish, and not
because it’s cheaper to make and therefore more prone to damage and horrific accidents? Or that the half gallon ice cream is no
longer half gallon but is package to look like one? I could go on but I’m an optimist even after all that. I still sense that my fairy godmother was stronger than corporations and was
still looking after me.
It was that one fine morning when the doctor told me that if I put any more salt in my food, I would die; that if i just take even a tiny bite of a sugared doughnut, I would definitely die; and forget about anything fried or eat anything that had legs, and as for coffee and sex, forget it. It was then, in that moment, that my beautiful
fairy godmother started to fade away and as I walked out of the doctor's office, she finally disappeared somewhere and died.
Friday, September 15, 2017
The Secret Russian-China Proposal
The Secret
Russian-China Proposal
On September the 6th, 2017,
U.S. Counter-Intelligence intercepted a phone message between Sergey Lavrov, Russia ’s foreign minister, and Wang Yi, foreign
minister to the People’s Republic of China . Wikileaks leaked it to the general public and
the following was what corresponded between the two. Both parties were fluent in English and that
was the language used. Since there are
no tenses in Mandarin, Mister Wang Yi spoke English only in the present tense.
Wang
Yi: Good morning, your Excellency. I hope I do not wake you. It is what, 5 a.m. there in Moscow ?
I know it is early but I can not wait.
I just confer with my boss (Xi Ping) and he wants to get your boss’s
(Putin) opinion on this matter.
Sergey
Lavrov: (Sputtering) Damn it, what could
be so important at this hour of the morning?
…Is your North Korean friends shooting missiles at the U.S again?.. Please, don’t tell me it hit somebody. The shock will be too much for my heart. It’s too early in the morning to start a
war.
WY: No, no, no war. What has happen is my boss summon me this
morning. He is in conference last night
with the Standing Committee and make a decision and like to present it to your
boss. This proposition is earth shaking,
I fool you not, and I know Mr. Putin want to act on this immediately.
SL: Please, Mr. Yi. If this is not an emergency, I would like to
brush my teeth and do my ablutions. I
will call you back in an hour after I’m dressed and have had my breakfast.
(3
HOURS GO BY)
WY:
You say you call back in an hour! Please
do not keep us waiting, Lavrov. It do
not make for an auspicious beginning for negotiations.
SL: I apologize for being late. My dacha is on the outskirts of Moscow and when I got to
the Kremlin, it was difficult getting an audience with Mr. Putin because he was
in the middle of a photo session. His
bodyguards would not let me get near him.
In order to interrupt him, I would have to say that war has been
declared somewhere and missiles have been launched.
WY: What kind of photo session of Mr. Putin is
more important than government business of the highest import?
SL: He will not discuss business when he is in
his white cotton Judogi and wearing his silk black belt, posing with world
class female Judoka practitioners. You
know how important his image is to him.
Think Trump and perhaps you would understand.
WY: Ah…My boss is quite the opposite. He is against any photos of himself, but the
paparazzi here is the worst. Since he
becomes the boss, he wears this stupid grin all the time in case some paparazzi
take a snap shot of him. He learns from
Stalin and Mao that you cannot afford to frown when there is chance people sees
you, so he smiles…a lot. He is tire of
wearing this frozen smile. Problems
arise when he is at home because sometimes he is very angry but he forgets he
is smiling, so his family do not know how to treat him. He is becoming very much like Trump: hard to
read. It is very sad, but I do
understand your predicament
SL: Thank you for understanding. I am now connecting Mr. Putin, so whatever you
say he will also hear and can inject at any time. Are you ready? Fine.
I will connect him so be aware he is listening. Now, what is this proposal that is so earth
shaking?
WY:
First, let me wish your president a good morning. Good Morning, President Putin. Sergey informs me that you are listening. My boss, Mr. Xi sends his regards and hope
you are in good health. Allow me to say
that we hold no animosity to the troubles that takes place in bygone years on
our mutual borders. We wish nothing but
peace and prosperity to both our countries. That being say, my boss wants to present this
proposal that is a benefit to both of us.
(The
voice of Putin is heard) Putin: Enough of the small talk, what is this
proposal?
WY: Err…Again, good morning, Mr. Putin. Let me begin by saying that President Xi, is
aware of your feints toward your western borders. We know that that is all it
is, feints. We are also aware that you
are casting your eyes to countries that will insure your safety in the future. You, no doubt, know that we are doing the
same. So here is what we propose… that
we set specific parameters to our sphere of influence so that we do not
accidently step on each other’s feet and cause unprofitable conflicts, now or
in the future. We propose that all of
South America be in Russia ’s
sphere of influence and that the continent of Africa be in China ’s sphere of influence. We
already have our agents in parts of Africa to
sow discontent and to anger the populace against any politician that is not on our
payroll. We are also able to hack their elections. We will organize the different factions in Africa and it is known as Sino-Africa Treaty Organization
or S.A.T.O. for short.
SL: And what will the acronym of Russia ’s
sphere of influence in South American be?
WY: We thought S.A.T.O,, for South American
Treaty Organization will be perfect!
Putin: But where is Russia ’s name in that acronym, and
aren’t those initials, S.A.T.O., the same as your organization?
WY: Why, why…you are absolutely correct, your
Excellency. A thousand pardons. We do not catch that flaw. But when you think of it, it is not a
flaw. Look at the beauty of it. Just think, your SATO unite with our SATO, to
become as one…We call it Slavic-Asiatic Treaty Organization or SATO. How is that sound, sounds clever, huh? And together we are truly invincible. Your country dominating South America while
we, in Africa , uniting the warring factions
under one banner. Why, together NATO
becomes shit and we the toilet paper.
SL:
Did you hear that Mr. President? I think
it is a fantastic proposition and should be brought up to the State Duma for
further discussions and to iron out the details.
Putin: I think it is cow dung.
SL: I think so too.
WY:
(a long pause)………Well, if the acronym bothers you because it do not have Russia
in it, I am authorize to change it. How
about Russia-America Treaty Organization?
Will that satisfy?
SL:
That would be…RATO?
WY: We can drop the “O” if you want.
Transmission ceased at this point when
the Russian Foreign Minister, Sergey Lavrov hung up the phone.
Sunday, August 27, 2017
How to Die Young
How to Die Young.
I went to the supermarket today and discovered 5 pound canned hams on the shelves again, the kind that vanished from the shelves of supermarkets decades ago. It was a ham injected with water, salt and all sorts of chemicals. The chemicals were labeled as seasonings, and printed in very tiny letter so it wouldn't frighten the consumers. Normally, I do not like regular ham…except those 5 pounders; those, I love. It was flavored with MSG, soaked with nitrites and all sorts of chemical enhancements. It was invented by food scientist and taste-tested in laboratories so that it would be tempting to even the most harden of vegetarians The canned ham was deliciously moist, succulent, and packed with pig fat, and all it the right places. It was irresistible. It was the kind that made heart surgeons rich beyond their wildest dreams.
Anyway, years ago, some damn do-gooders complained that there were no good reasons to inject water into can ham. They claimed it made the ham weigh more and we end up paying for water. What’s wrong with that? People buy bottled water. So what if the manufacturer makes money sending us to an early death. We all have to die sometime. As a result of the complaint (actually a good deal of complaints) the Food Safety and Inspection Center, FSIC, (not to be confused with the government financial arm) insisted that no water be injected, and that all the chemical ingredients be shown in a more conspicuous place, large enough so a magnifying glass would not be needed for people with normal eyesight. Changes were made to comply with the FSIC resulting in less and less 5 lb canned hams being sold and, eventually, producers stop making the 5 lb canned ham altogether.
In 2003, I think I accidently bought a 5 lb can with the new format. It had no water, less salt, less chemical enhancements (and did it taste ever so disgustingly bland and as dry as cardboard). I stopped buying ham for several years. Then last week, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There it was: the 5 lb canned ham guaranteed to give you a stroke if you eat enough. Why have they started? Were the manufacturers hoping the new Trump administration will not enforce regulations? I didn’t care. I want to make America great again, so I bought a dozen.
I got the hams home, opened one, and I was not disappointed. It glistened with so much marbled fat that I nearly swooned. The ham is now in my sandwich, resting between sliced tomatoes, fatty mayonnaise, and wilted lettuce. I know it is very, very salty but it is balanced out generously with loads and loads of sugar so that you can hardly taste how salty that ham really is. It’s the same trick used in most restaurants to enhance the flavor of their food. Lots of salt will bring out hidden flavors in food, but how to cover it up? Lots of sugar, that’s how. That is why you feel so thirsty after eating in those restaurants and wonder, how come? The food wasn’t THAT salty…but oh yes it was.
Now, getting back to how to die young….I haven’t a clue. I just thought the title would attract readers (my immediate family).
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
The Road Not Taken
A Road Not Taken
“Can’t live with old people. I’ve a hard enough time looking at myself in
the mirror and seeing my turkey neck,” said Maddie Horowitz. “They say that old people die quicker in
places like this. I think I seen it in
a TV documentary; it was on PBS…or something like that. And if it ain’t true,
why would they say it?” Mother and
daughter sat side by side in the reception room of the Meadowlark Board and Care Home, both looking tensed and uncomfortable. Maddie continues, “There’s nothing wrong
with me. I get lapses of memory now and then, but that’s
typical at my age. I do not wear
diapers. I can walk without a cane, and I can feed myself. I don’t need people to care for me. Old folks should be protected from well meaning children…and I resent, I resent being shipped into a geriatric
institution just because you....
“Oh, shut up mom,” snapped Helen
wearily, “and don’t give me any more of your bullshit philosophy. Here’s the reality: this is the third time
you left something burning on the stove.
You nearly burnt the house down, goddamn it. It took your neighbor, who, by the way, hates
you, to call the fire department. She saw
smoke pouring out of your kitchen window.
I was told that when the firemen banged on your door, you opened it
and…guess what, mom; you asked them…YOU ASKED THEM WHAT THE HELL THEY WANTED! My god, doesn’t that tell you something?”
“That neighbor is always spying on
me. Listen, the fire was at the other end of the
house. I would’ve caught it if Joanie
hadn’t called. Joanie just love to
gossip and it would’ve been so rude to cut her off. Joanie’s my best friend, and I just got
caught up in the flow. It could’ve
happen to anyone” said Maddie.
“Not anyone, just old people like
you,” retorted Helen. “One time, you
fell asleep with the heater on right smack against the sofa…and the other time,
you went to visit, god knows who, and you left eggs boiling on the stove. Luckily I dropped in that day to see how you
were. And how many other accidents you
hadn’t bothered to tell us? You're old. You’re
nearly eighty, ma. Haight and Asbury isn't there anymore. They’re all here in
senior places like this. Look around
you. You can make new friends, enjoy the
company of people your age, talk about how you miss free sex, smoking pot, or
whatever you people talk about. You’ll
have time to relax…and this seems like a really nice place. It doesn’t smell of urine.”
“It smells of old people,” uttered
Maddie under her breath. She turned and
examined the décor of the lobby. They
were the same as the other care homes they had visited: fake floral
decorations, shinny linoleum floors, faded landscape prints on the wall, and
that smell…that smell of Fabrize…she hated that smell. It had the fragrance of a funeral
parlor. And the last thing she might
ever see in this world is its ceiling, when they wheel her out on a gurney, dying from bed sores or something close to it. “I don’t like places like
this. I don’t like the smell of
disinfectant. I don’t want to make new
friends. My old ones are bad
enough. At my age, I deserve privacy and
to die in my own bed and in my own home.”
Helen tightens her lips. She was middle aged and felt her energies
draining into the brown cushioned bench.
Her brothers have moved away, far enough to provide the excuse for not
visiting more often. Her mother, on the
other hand, always had an atrabilious disposition, so Helen couldn’t blame her
brothers for staying away. Why are
daughters the only ones to be caring for their elderly parents? At least it seemed that way. And her mother is so difficult, so
peevish. Probably because she spent her
years tolerating, rather than loving, the man she married. When he died, she told her children that she
stayed married to the man because of them. Her main goal in life seemed to be expounding on the
sacrifices she’s made, and how unfairly life has treated her. Her children had become the captured
audience. No one else seemed to be
listening.
A door opened, and two men sauntered
into the lobby and approached. The nearest one spoke, “Mom, this is Mr. Holloway, the director of this establishment. Now, this isn’t a done deal, and we have
other places to look at, but, like I told Helen, I think this place is really
special, and it’s close to us. A little
pricey, maybe, but we can afford it.” The man who spoke was Richard, stock broker, and Maddie's son-in-law. Maddie thought he was a prick.
The other man was dressed informally
in a white T-shirt, blue jeans and a politician’s smile. He stuck out his hand. “How do you do,
Maddie? You don’t mind if I call you
Maddie, do you? We’re sort of like a
family here, and I want Sue,” he motions to the receptionist, “she’s our
assistant director, to show you what we have to offer, and I’m absolutely
certain that if you decide to stay with us, you will find this a most pleasant
place to live. So, Sue, please give Mrs. Horowitz the
tour of the place, and answer any questions she might have.”
“Like I said, this isn’t a sure
thing, mom,” injected Richard. “There are
still other places we can look at. We
don’t want to press you in any way. We
just want you to be happy.”
Wants me to be happy, that’s a load of
horseshit, thought Maddie. Just want me
out of their hair and their conscience.
Maddie wished her daughter had married someone else, but she had to
admit, Helen was no prize either. “It’s okay, Richard, it’s okay. So, Sue, lead the way and I’ll see what there
is to see. But don’t go too fast. I’ve got a bad hip.”
“Perhaps you need a walker?” asked
Sue, hugging a clip board. “We have several spare ones in the lobby. Should I get you one?
“Having a bad hip doesn’t mean I’m
cripple.” Maddie said, with a sarcastic
edge. “Maybe when I’m feeling better.”
“This is our main center,” said Sue,
as they entered an enormous room with a high sculptured ceiling, “and you can
see we have a large pipe organ on the side wall there, and a grand piano. Do you play?”
Maddie shook her head. Sue
continued the tour, “This is our little theater where we have many
activities. We do have professional
entertainment every Tuesday night and Bingo every other night, except on
weekends: those days we show movies and have ping-pong tournaments. There are card games, bridge and whist, and,
on Fridays, there’s casino nights.” They
walk further on to adjoining rooms. “On
Sundays, to entertain visitors, we have Karaoke. Do you sing, Maddie?” Maddie shook her head. Without missing a beat, Sue continued, “did I
mention we have arts and crafts? There
is a small studio off the grounds for those who are interested. We have throw wheels and kilns in case you’re
into pottery. We have an excellent
instructor who comes in Monday mornings.”
“No, I don’t do artsy-fartsy.”
“Excuse me?”
“You were going to ask me if I do arts
and crafts, and my answer is no, I don’t do artsy-fartsy. In fact, I don’t do much of anything.” Sue’s annoyance towards
Maddie begins to seed.
“Come along now. We’ve got lots of ground to cover.” Sue was
in the business of dealing with old curmudgeons and she gave this one a six,
ten being the worst. The itinerary will
continue, and the script will be followed. Chin up, clutch the clipboard and
march smartly. “This is the main dinner
room where, as you can see, it’s in a cafeteria style for those who are
ambulatory and can help themselves. We
try to encourage all our guests, like yourself, to be as self sufficient as
humanly possible. Complimentary snacks
and coffee is served between the hours of one and five in the afternoon. And you will note that we have fresh cut
flowers placed daily on the middle of every….,” as Sue droned on, Maddie
noticed a man, approximately her age, sitting in a corner table sipping from a
coffee mug.
He was dressed in a squalid bathrobe, and underneath peeked blue pajamas. On
his head was a sweat-stained, maroon baseball cap that had “Harvard” blazoned
in the front. He was shod in very old slippers, the colors of which were so
aged that they were indiscernible.
Something of his physical appearance piqued a section of her buried
memories, so she walked directly in front of the old man to gain his attention. Sue was still prattling on, walking forward
in a measured pace when she realized that Maddie was no longer behind her, or
being attentive.
“Oh Maddie…uh, Ms. Horowitz, please
stay with me…"said Sue. "We wouldn’t want you to get lost, now, would we?" Maddie ignored the request and stood there
staring at the old gentleman sipping his drink.
For a full half minute, he did not look up. Gradually, the old man became aware of two
boney ankles, with black socks and black buckled shoes visible below his
visor. He slowly followed the scrawny
legs upward until the owner was in full view.
He croaked, “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Oh, Maddie, do you know Mr. Salvador
here?” chirped Sue, hopefully.
A wide smile slowly manifests itself
in the old man’s face. “Well, goddamn,
well goddam it all. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it. Is that you; is that really you, Maddie? Well, hello there, can’t believe it’s
you. It is you? Of all places…can’t believe it. You’ve changed… but not much. Pretty as ever…er..you do look a little
dehydrated…but then, don’t we all.”
Well, fuck you too, thought Maddie,
“It’s good to see you, too, Sal. I hardly recognize you in that outfit. It is
you, isn’t it? Recognized your stoop. Boy, have you gotten thick. That bathrobe suits you. How long have you been buried in it? Didn’t know you were in the city. I take it
that you are a guest in this brightly lit mausoleum? .”
“Just got here. A few months, maybe.” Then came an embarrassing lull. They just stood there searching for a
smattering of small talk, trying to find the appropriate words to say. This meeting of providence came so suddenly
that they were both unprepared.
Sue, the assistant director, who was
being polite and a patient third party, said, “Look, Ms. Horowitz, seeing as
you both know each other, why don’t I just leave you two alone to chat for
awhile, and later I can let Mr.Salvador show you the rest of the place. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. And I’ve tons of paper work on my desk…and,
Sal, when you’re finish, just drop her off at the front desk. Her kids are waiting for her there.” Slowly,
Sue drifted toward the door where they had entered….”And behave yourself, Sal,”
she added before she disappeared.
Sal spoke up, “Would you like a cup
of coffee?”
“Yes, I could do with one.”
“Here, sit right here, while I get you
one. Cream and sugar, right?”
When Sal came back with the coffee, he
laid packets of sugar and powdered cream on the table. “Didn’t know how much you used, so I got a
bunch. Isn’t Sue something else? She runs the place, you know. We call her the ‘Empress’, the real power in
this place. You’ve met Holloway, right? Well, he’s just a front man.. Never leaves
his office…doesn’t like getting near old folks, thinks we’re contagious. Sue on the other hand likes us old
people…like an owner liking his pet dogs.
Maddie avoided looking at Sal’s eyes
which seemed to be staring at her. She
replied, “She seems nice enough, but that spiel sounded like a memorized list. I guess if you have to do it a dozen times a
month... Well, how’ve you been,
Sal? Such a coincidence, we meeting like
this. I wasn’t aware you were living in
the city. Last I heard you moved some
where back east, got married and had kids.” She stirred her coffee. “Well, how’ve you?…oh, I think I’ve already
said that. Sorry.”
“You get old, you repeat
yourself. It happens,” replied Sal. “To answer your question, I’ve been doing
okay. Can’t believe my eyes that you’re
here in front of me. I never…I never
though I’d ever see you again. But here
you are.” There was a long pause. Then Sal coughed and said, “When
was it? I think the last time I saw you
was…was at your mother’s. We had this
big fight, I remember, and I stormed out of the house. What, some sixty plus years ago, was it? Yea, I think it’s been over sixty years.”
“God, has it been that long? Mom was the one who told me that you got
married,” said Maddie. “And that you had
a couple of kids. She also added,’good
riddance’. She really didn’t like
you. I have to admit, it’s strange
talking to you like this. Like you said,
I never thought we would run into each other again.
“Same here. So what have you been up to all these
years? Married?” asked Sal.
“Remember Harold Horowitz?”
Sal pondered for a moment. “Oh, that
jock …we were all in the same statistic class at J. C, if my memory serves
me…not the brightest guy in the world.
Good looking, though, what about him?
No, you didn’t?”
“Oh, but I did.” And Maddie rolled her
eyes. “It was just a couple of months after we broke up. Mom thought he was the greatest thing since
canned tuna and was going places, and she really pushed him in front of
me. God was she wrong….”
“Geeze, sorry to hear that,
Maddie. And is he…?
“Oh no, he passed away many years ago. Been happy living alone since. He was one big loser, that guy…but he did
give me three wonderful kids. Of course,
they’ve all moved on, except my daughter, Helen. She lives here in the city. In fact, she’s the one who bought me
here.” She hesitated for a moment and
ponders if she should extol her children’s success. Should she say how well they were doing? Maddie hated it when others brag about their
children, instead she said,” And you?
What have you been doing all these years?”
Sal began fidgeting with his spoon,
calculating which role to play, what voice to use, a trait developed at
countless Toast Master meetings. “Well, I got married. She passed away several years ago. Also had a couple of kids, all girls. The marriage was okay. Remember what we use to say, ‘the secret of a
long marriage is the ability of both parties to tolerate boredom with each
other’…”
“Oh, I remember that. Who said it?
I forgot.”
“We made it up ourselves.”
“We did? Imagine that.
Uh, did you do well? Financially,
I mean.” Asked Maddie.
“Well, does it look like I did? I mean, this great Armani bathrobe, and my
Pierre Cardin pajamas underneath, and you know I’m not wearing underwear. I’m also depressed, in need of a shave, and
lodged in an old-age home. I think I reek of success, don’t you?”
“Looks are deceiving, said
Maddie. “I married one that was cheerful
as hell, looked terribly successful, and turned out to be just the biggest
loser around. But this place is kinda
expensive, and Sue treats you with respect.
I can tell. In fact, I think
she’s kinda afraid of you…which means you’re either a serial killer or you got
money. Have I got that right? You were cute…once. Now look at you. Ugly as sin and probably as rich as Trump.”
“You know those little plastic tags
that tells you the price of an item in the super market? Well, I manufactured those little tags for
most of the chain stores in this state, or I did before I sold the business.”
“Is there money making those little
tags?” asked Maddie
“You wouldn’t think so,” answered Sal.
“You know, I’ve always thought of you
now and then,” said Maddie, “less as the years rolled by, but I always had that
‘what if’ when I did think of you.” Maddie paused and looked up at the
ceiling. “Sometimes I get sad, very sad,
knowing you’ve probably passed away, and we would never meet again, never to
have closure, never to catch up on things, or find how things turned out.”
“God damn it, that’s…that’s awfully
sad,” said Sal, and he brushed the soiled sleeve of his pajamas across his
eyes. And as they chatted on, their talk
grew in momentum, with periodical bursts of laughter. They detailed their lives to each other as if
they were strangers; they reminisced about their mutual friends and
acquaintances, living and dead, their whereabouts, their destinies and the
surprise at what they had became, of old haunts and restaurants that no longer
existed. The hour passed, the fuel of
gossip turned into embers and the silence between sentences began to
lengthen. And near the end, they both
became quiet, both staring into space. Finally, Sal spoke up.
“But here we are…and I thought of you
a lot, too,” said Sal. “I thought of writing…I knew where you lived but not the
address. I couldn’t bring myself to
finding out. Anyway, I was already
married, and when my wife, Annie, died, I just kinda gave up on everything and
moved back here. Got into this rest home
so the kids don’t have to worry about me.
What about you? Same reason?”
“No.
I hate goddamn places like this.
My daughter wants to put me in here.
But never mind all that. What
bothers me right now is…why did we break up?
Do you remember? It was your last
semester in college and I was still a junior.
We were together for…what …nearly a year? It was something to do with…I really can’t
remember. I do remember it was at my
mother’s place, and you were talking to my mother, and I got angry and I
screamed at you. You slammed the front
door on the way out, and broke the stained glass panel. Then you ran to your car, that old, beat
up Pontiac . I still remember the blue sun shade in front
of the windshields and the fluffy pair of white dice hanging from your rear view mirror.”
“The car had wires holding up the
bumpers. Do you remember that?” asked Sal.
“Yea and it rattled every time you and
I were….” And Maddie began to laugh. “So, what the hell happened to us?”
“We were young. Too young, I guess,” said Sal, amusingly. “I
think it was because I agreed with your mother when she criticized you for
something…something to do with your appearance.
Anyway, it could’ve been something else, but the main thing was, I took
her side too often. And that one time
was one time too many. I thought about
it later and you were right to get angry at me…but I did it only because I
didn’t think your mother liked me, and I
just wanted to please her. Anyway, it
was just some petty shit… I do remember thinking how grossly unfair of you to
suddenly lose your temper and telling me to leave. So, I did.
I remember slamming the front door when I left but I don’t remember
breaking any glass.”
“Well, you did,” said Maddie.
“But, you know what? I was sitting and waiting in the car, hoping
that you’d come out and…sort of apologize,” said Sal. “I waited quite a
while before taking off.”
“Bullshit, you did!” said Maddie. “I knew I was wrong when I yelled at
you. It wasn’t that long when I came out
looking for you…and you were already gone.”
“You came out?”
“Yes, I did. And you weren’t there,”
“Well, why didn’t you call me
after? I waited by the phone.”
“Why didn’t you? I waited too,” said Maddie.
Sal began rubbing his forehead and
noticed the assistant director, Sue, and some other people standing by the
entrance of the cafeteria. Sue was
pointing at her watch. “I think our zoo keeper is trying to tell us something. Is that your daughter standing next to her?”
Maddie turned her head and said,“Yes, that’s her…and next to her is Richard, my
son-in-law. He’s a prick,”
“If you say so, then he is. Look, Maddie, let’s get together here
for dinner tonight. The food isn’t half
bad and I’m sure it's complementary for potential residents. Can’t pass up free food, now, can we? Go join your kids, they’re looking kinda
nervous, and I’ll see you this evening, okay?
“I guess so.” And Maddie got up from
her seat and walked toward the group.
She hesitated, turned, and waved bye-bye. They all began to walk toward the lobby.
Richard spoke up. “Who the hell was that?”
“Somebody I knew a long, long time ago,”
answered Maddie.
“See.
What did I tell you, mom”, said Helen.
“You’ve barely just got in here and already you’re making friends. I think this place will really suit you,
aren’t I right, Richard?” Richard and
Sue nodded their heads approvingly. “So, should we sign up today? Might as well. We’ve been to half a dozen places and you’ve
got to agree, it’s the best so far.”
“No, I don’t like this place,” said
Maddie, suddenly. “I want to leave
now. And I don’t ever want to come
back.” And she hobbled toward the
entrance leaving the group standing there, all puzzled and confused. Maddie didn’t look back. She reached into her purse for her cell
phone. She punched in a number, waited
for an answer and said, “Joanie, you wouldn’t believe in a million years who I
saw today…”
“
Monday, July 17, 2017
Putin's Plan
Putin's Plan
A Top Secret
phone conversation between Viadimir Putin and Sergey Lavrov was hacked by
Wikileaks on January 4, 2017 and released on You Tube on July 18, 2017. 1st voice was identified as Sergey
Lavrov, Russia ’s
foreign minister. The 2nd
voice was identified as Viadimir Putin, President of the Republic of Russia .
VP: Yes, tell a lie long
enough and loud enough and it will be believed.
Who said that?
Telephone
transmission ceased at 9:33 PM, Moscow
time on January 4th, 2017
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