house guests who don't go home
fiction
edward w pritchard
Her name was Johnie Walker like the whiskey and she rented her house to about ten tenants a month. She was the only woman but the old black men didn't bother her. They were past womanizing, at their age they lived to drink.
Mrs. Walker would take their pension or social security check, they would sign it over to her, and in return she would feed them and give them a warm place to live. The reason however the 70 plus year old Black men stayed was Mrs. Walker's liberal open bottle policy. The men could drink all day as much as they wanted as long as they didn't exceed twelve shots in a twelve hour period running 1Pm to 1AM. It was difficult for Mrs. Walker to count the shots but if she ever, even once caught some one cheating, out they went, no three day notice, just her and her 45 and they had 15 minutes to pack up and leave. Her enforcement policies kept people honest.
Mrs. Walker lived down in the poor side of town and her house sat real close to the sidewalk and street. Nothing happened on her front porch. The good ladies around her house didn't approve of Mrs. Walker or her tenants. They didn't approve of the lottery tickets she sold the men day in and out for double price and they didn't approve of the daily number that she sold to them and to others in the neighborhood based on the last two numbers of the closing Dow Jones industrial average for the day.
To keep her business away from her do gooder church going neighbors, Mrs. Walker had her small back yard completely covered in raised decks. Those old men would sit back there on a mismatch of old chairs at a bunch of old tables and play cards or listen to the radio or just sit and pass the day. Most of the old men had been raised in the South in Jim Crow times and our Northern City was not that hot to them, even in the middle of Summer.
Mrs. Walker cooked only lunch and dinner. A big pot of something would come out and it was a one pot meal. Lots of meat and then a couple of other things thrown in for flavor. Each of those old men would have a couple of thick slices of bread and butter and a huge bowl of her specialty of the day. Usually they wouldn't finish.
Mostly the men just wanted to drink. They preferred Chivas regal and she bought it for them. After they had a few drinks each day Mrs. Walker would cut the drinks with cheaper whiskey. I used to go get her a bottle often myself. I was one of her debit insurance agents. She paid about 150 a week in premiums on life insurance on the lives of a lot of those old men. If one died she collected on the policy, as beneficiary. First however, she made sure they had a nice simple but dignified funeral. I went to one and she was there and had the preacher at a church in the neighborhood give a nice sermon.
The men when they drank didn't argue or fight ever. Mrs. Walker was about six feet one at 75 years old so she must have been very tall once. She was direct with people and wouldn't let herself be pushed around. She had a good sense of humor and was fatalistic about life. She always called me policy man and when my first son was born she gave me a twenty dollar tip.
I met a lot of people like Mrs. Walker when I worked on a debit down in the Black part of town. That was before Black people had much equal opportunity and people like Mrs. Walker had to carve out a niche to survive. I learned about blues music from Mrs. Walker and I learned that you shouldn't have more than twelve drinks of scotch whiskey in a twelve hour period.
Friday, April 30, 2010
if good old Jesus came back tomorrow
if good old Jesus came back tomorrow
fiction
edward w pritchard
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow the detectives union wouldn't like it. Jesus could follow a suspect and be able to tell where the suspect had walked by the impression his shoes left no matter where he went. That's without using DNA evidence just footprints and he could pick them out on the most crowded street.
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow the psychological association would protest. Jesus could look at someone and see their whole life in just a glance. He could talk to them and straighten them out without medications.
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow the Poker players wouldn't like it. He could see your hand in your eyes, and no matter how dark the shades he could see your eyes. If you tried to just peek once at your cards he would know what you were drawing for even if he was passing popcorn to the player to his left.
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow the credit card companies wouldn't mind. They would just charge him the statutory highest rate. Missing years in his life between 12 and 33 they say.
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow I would take him out to Red Lobster and let him order whatever he wanted, my treat and then introduce him to my friends. That wouldn't take long but after that it's up to him to get his message out.
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow I bet he would be very busy and that's just around here, where I live.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow the detectives union wouldn't like it. Jesus could follow a suspect and be able to tell where the suspect had walked by the impression his shoes left no matter where he went. That's without using DNA evidence just footprints and he could pick them out on the most crowded street.
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow the psychological association would protest. Jesus could look at someone and see their whole life in just a glance. He could talk to them and straighten them out without medications.
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow the Poker players wouldn't like it. He could see your hand in your eyes, and no matter how dark the shades he could see your eyes. If you tried to just peek once at your cards he would know what you were drawing for even if he was passing popcorn to the player to his left.
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow the credit card companies wouldn't mind. They would just charge him the statutory highest rate. Missing years in his life between 12 and 33 they say.
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow I would take him out to Red Lobster and let him order whatever he wanted, my treat and then introduce him to my friends. That wouldn't take long but after that it's up to him to get his message out.
If good old Jesus came back tomorrow I bet he would be very busy and that's just around here, where I live.
end
Thursday, April 29, 2010
army recruiter
army recruiter
fiction
edward w pritchard
Norm was working over at the high school today. He was showing an aerodynamic plane guidance system. Students were coming out after lunch and he already had three good prospects. He was a recruiter for the army. He had talked to each student who expressed genuine interest for 20 minutes and then sent them on to sixth period.
After the three interviews Norm pulled put out his lap top and pulled up the credit scores of the three young students. All were eighteen and were graduating in two months. He had screened them carefully.
All three students had low credit scores, below the minimum threshold to qualify as a candidate to enter the army. He had no wiggle room on this.
Norm went out and helped pack up the large truck to move the exhibit to the next school. Tomorrow Norm would look for more prospects for the army.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Norm was working over at the high school today. He was showing an aerodynamic plane guidance system. Students were coming out after lunch and he already had three good prospects. He was a recruiter for the army. He had talked to each student who expressed genuine interest for 20 minutes and then sent them on to sixth period.
After the three interviews Norm pulled put out his lap top and pulled up the credit scores of the three young students. All were eighteen and were graduating in two months. He had screened them carefully.
All three students had low credit scores, below the minimum threshold to qualify as a candidate to enter the army. He had no wiggle room on this.
Norm went out and helped pack up the large truck to move the exhibit to the next school. Tomorrow Norm would look for more prospects for the army.
small business and job growth
small business and job growth
fiction
edward w pritchard
It's counter intuitive. It's so difficult to prove. It's touted by politicians ad nausea. It can't be measured. No one knows many people that work in small business but everyone is supposed to start there for it's gospel that job growth comes from small business. Go to Africa and find an out of the way tribe and ask them about America and they will know small business is the engine of job growth in the American economy. We told them.
Small business depending on who is asked is any business with fewer than 500 employees to as few as five.
Business are closing, offices are vacant and jobs are difficult to find, ask anyone looking for work. Still everyone believes small business create jobs.
Who says so?
Any time a new State or local politician gets newly elected to office they fill the new small business growth office they created with friends, supporters and family. Then they say they are working with small businesses to create job growth.
That's who says so.
fiction
edward w pritchard
It's counter intuitive. It's so difficult to prove. It's touted by politicians ad nausea. It can't be measured. No one knows many people that work in small business but everyone is supposed to start there for it's gospel that job growth comes from small business. Go to Africa and find an out of the way tribe and ask them about America and they will know small business is the engine of job growth in the American economy. We told them.
Small business depending on who is asked is any business with fewer than 500 employees to as few as five.
Business are closing, offices are vacant and jobs are difficult to find, ask anyone looking for work. Still everyone believes small business create jobs.
Who says so?
Any time a new State or local politician gets newly elected to office they fill the new small business growth office they created with friends, supporters and family. Then they say they are working with small businesses to create job growth.
That's who says so.
today's work
today's work
fiction
edward w pritchard
Two saw horses were in the drive way and an old door was stretched across them. Lance had work for the day and he was bustling about Mrs. Winslow's drive, yard and the entrance way to her house. He measured and cut and leveled and stained and beveled and carried and after 7 or eight hours Mrs. Winston inspected and paid. Mrs. Winston was happy and would have Lance back again in the future for small repairs.
Today was a good day for Lance and it was 4:00 and he checked his cell phone for messages. No work yet for tomorrow. Keep the faith something will come up maybe.
Mrs. Winslow paid in cash $175. Lance took twenty dollars for himself and put the rest deep into the pockets of his wallet for materials and to pay his bills. Driving home he stopped at the Wal Mart and bought his four year old daughter a doll from the Disney Company.
Coming out of the Wal Mart, Lance checked his phone again. No messages yet, no work yet for tomorrow. Maybe something will still come up.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Two saw horses were in the drive way and an old door was stretched across them. Lance had work for the day and he was bustling about Mrs. Winslow's drive, yard and the entrance way to her house. He measured and cut and leveled and stained and beveled and carried and after 7 or eight hours Mrs. Winston inspected and paid. Mrs. Winston was happy and would have Lance back again in the future for small repairs.
Today was a good day for Lance and it was 4:00 and he checked his cell phone for messages. No work yet for tomorrow. Keep the faith something will come up maybe.
Mrs. Winslow paid in cash $175. Lance took twenty dollars for himself and put the rest deep into the pockets of his wallet for materials and to pay his bills. Driving home he stopped at the Wal Mart and bought his four year old daughter a doll from the Disney Company.
Coming out of the Wal Mart, Lance checked his phone again. No messages yet, no work yet for tomorrow. Maybe something will still come up.
the passageria comes to Youngstown, Ohio
the passageria comes to Youngstown, Ohio
fiction
edward w pritchard
Carole Munson was the new economic development director of Youngstown, Ohio, fresh out of an MBA program at Ohio State University and was ambitious and had a super achievement drive. She was going to turn around this declining rust bucket town and bring tourists to the down town area.
Six months later she was nearly defeated in her efforts by reality. Few people wanted to visit Youngstown, Ohio. They had a very good art museum and some interesting things around the State University but competition was fierce with the recession for tourist dollars and she needed to try a new approach.
Carole received permission from the Mayor to visit San Antonio, Texas. The river walk in San Antonio was the stock success story among economic development aficionados and Carole was excited to see what the secret was in San Antonio that attracted tourists.
Carole enjoyed the river walk and decided to try to duplicate it in Youngstown, As a model she choose the Passageria in the hill towns of Italy. Every evening after supper the people of the small towns in Italy dress up in their good and fashionable clothes and stroll and talk and shake hands and kiss their neighbors; sometimes until ten at night. Tourists love it and it is good for everyone. Exercise, comradeship and a chance to get to know your neighbors.
Carole couldn't get a trip to Italy past the budget director, but she read up on the passageria and tried to duplicate it in Youngstown, Ohio.--
-- That proved difficult. --
Because of the job losses and continuing twenty five year recession in that part of Ohio the locals were suspicious by nature. They mistrusted government and some times saw the world as sinister and dark.
To jump start the effort of a passageria down the main street of Youngstown Carole was able to get the municipal employees union to give their members a paid two hours off work for every half hour they walked in the passageria at night after 7PM. The municipal employees needed to wear a special shirt and badge if they were to get credit.
The passageria in Youngstown became a success. However, the locals continued to be suspicious and distrustful of the local government. The locals developed an elaborate system of hand signals and gestures to communicate with each other during the walk and would often pass on information about the whereabouts of government employees, visitors and tourists or the local police. In time the passageria was discontinued in Youngstown Ohio because rather than make the people happy and contented it was promoting xenophobia and fear.
In a newspaper article in the Youngstown newspaper on the story of the passageria, one Professor from the State College there, in Youngstown, noted that a similar thing had originally happened in the hill towns of Italy. When the towns were occupied for a while by German armies the Italian citizens developed an elaborate system of hand signals and gestures to communicate without German soldiers knowing what they were doing.
Carole Munson in Economic development in Youngstown Ohio is not discouraged. She is working on some alternative ideas beyond the passageria to promote economic development in Ohio.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Carole Munson was the new economic development director of Youngstown, Ohio, fresh out of an MBA program at Ohio State University and was ambitious and had a super achievement drive. She was going to turn around this declining rust bucket town and bring tourists to the down town area.
Six months later she was nearly defeated in her efforts by reality. Few people wanted to visit Youngstown, Ohio. They had a very good art museum and some interesting things around the State University but competition was fierce with the recession for tourist dollars and she needed to try a new approach.
Carole received permission from the Mayor to visit San Antonio, Texas. The river walk in San Antonio was the stock success story among economic development aficionados and Carole was excited to see what the secret was in San Antonio that attracted tourists.
Carole enjoyed the river walk and decided to try to duplicate it in Youngstown, As a model she choose the Passageria in the hill towns of Italy. Every evening after supper the people of the small towns in Italy dress up in their good and fashionable clothes and stroll and talk and shake hands and kiss their neighbors; sometimes until ten at night. Tourists love it and it is good for everyone. Exercise, comradeship and a chance to get to know your neighbors.
Carole couldn't get a trip to Italy past the budget director, but she read up on the passageria and tried to duplicate it in Youngstown, Ohio.--
-- That proved difficult. --
Because of the job losses and continuing twenty five year recession in that part of Ohio the locals were suspicious by nature. They mistrusted government and some times saw the world as sinister and dark.
To jump start the effort of a passageria down the main street of Youngstown Carole was able to get the municipal employees union to give their members a paid two hours off work for every half hour they walked in the passageria at night after 7PM. The municipal employees needed to wear a special shirt and badge if they were to get credit.
The passageria in Youngstown became a success. However, the locals continued to be suspicious and distrustful of the local government. The locals developed an elaborate system of hand signals and gestures to communicate with each other during the walk and would often pass on information about the whereabouts of government employees, visitors and tourists or the local police. In time the passageria was discontinued in Youngstown Ohio because rather than make the people happy and contented it was promoting xenophobia and fear.
In a newspaper article in the Youngstown newspaper on the story of the passageria, one Professor from the State College there, in Youngstown, noted that a similar thing had originally happened in the hill towns of Italy. When the towns were occupied for a while by German armies the Italian citizens developed an elaborate system of hand signals and gestures to communicate without German soldiers knowing what they were doing.
Carole Munson in Economic development in Youngstown Ohio is not discouraged. She is working on some alternative ideas beyond the passageria to promote economic development in Ohio.
expansion and reflection on the bell curve
expansion and reflection on the bell curve
fiction
edward w pritchard
Ibn was going to sit in his garden and read. The garden was surrounded on four sides by the walls of the house and various gazebos and was a pleasant place to sit and read. The walled garden was inspired by the Alhambra in Granada Spain and was expensively decorated with understated fine marble statues and tiled fountains. The sound of running and cascading water provided a backdrop and muted sunlight filtered through the trees to provide shade and light.
First Ibn's daughter ran out to tell him goodbye. She jumped on his lap and kissed him and gave him a sweet piece of pastry she had saved for him from her lunch. She and her Mother were going to his mother-in laws for the day and she wanted to tell him she would bring him back some cherries. After she left there were some troubling details of business with his business associate who worked for him and spent 10 or twelve hours a day at his home. Today him and his business associate had started early and he finally was able to drive his associate away. Today was their half-day and IBN wanted to read and reflect. Future business dis-quietations would have to wait until tomorrow.
Today Ibn was going to read two books and compare the authors ideas on an interesting phenomena. The first book by Johann Carl Friedrich Gauss, a German, expanded on the work of the Frenchman Abraham de Moivre. The books concerned the bell curve and normal distribution.
Two hours later a screeching bird interrupted Ibn from a deep revelry. He was thinking about the implications of the bell curve and had taken a pen and a sketch pad and had drawn a point [dot] of ink at each end. Directly below he had drawn the normal bell curve as discussed by Gauss in the folded book sitting on the ground near Ibn.
Ibn often reflected in this manner and was known to spend his entire afternoon off on some similar sort of reflections, for he longed to understand things ethereal and timeless. Today the two points at the end of the bell curve had set him to thinking about the relationship between man and God. He carefully drew six dots across a large piece of paper and then with a colored ink drew the connecting bell curves.
He said aloud " man turns into God/ who turns into man /who turns into God /who turns into man/ who turns into God/" what if it would continue? man who turns into God/ who turns into Man/ who turns into God
Ibn carefully took the paper he had been working on and folded it in half upon itself. He now was thinking non-linearly. Ibn moved the first dot and the last dot and lined them up until they would touch except for the thickness of the paper separating them.
Ibn's daughter raced into his garden and jumped in his lap. " Daddy have you been sitting here drawing the whole time". Here are your cherries. Ibn's wife came in. She said his business partner was back and had to see him.
Ibn rose and took his daughter's hand and went to see his business associate. He lost his train of thought about the dots and the paper. Later the screeching bird swooped down and took the paper with the dots to add to the nest she was building.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Ibn was going to sit in his garden and read. The garden was surrounded on four sides by the walls of the house and various gazebos and was a pleasant place to sit and read. The walled garden was inspired by the Alhambra in Granada Spain and was expensively decorated with understated fine marble statues and tiled fountains. The sound of running and cascading water provided a backdrop and muted sunlight filtered through the trees to provide shade and light.
First Ibn's daughter ran out to tell him goodbye. She jumped on his lap and kissed him and gave him a sweet piece of pastry she had saved for him from her lunch. She and her Mother were going to his mother-in laws for the day and she wanted to tell him she would bring him back some cherries. After she left there were some troubling details of business with his business associate who worked for him and spent 10 or twelve hours a day at his home. Today him and his business associate had started early and he finally was able to drive his associate away. Today was their half-day and IBN wanted to read and reflect. Future business dis-quietations would have to wait until tomorrow.
Today Ibn was going to read two books and compare the authors ideas on an interesting phenomena. The first book by Johann Carl Friedrich Gauss, a German, expanded on the work of the Frenchman Abraham de Moivre. The books concerned the bell curve and normal distribution.
Two hours later a screeching bird interrupted Ibn from a deep revelry. He was thinking about the implications of the bell curve and had taken a pen and a sketch pad and had drawn a point [dot] of ink at each end. Directly below he had drawn the normal bell curve as discussed by Gauss in the folded book sitting on the ground near Ibn.
Ibn often reflected in this manner and was known to spend his entire afternoon off on some similar sort of reflections, for he longed to understand things ethereal and timeless. Today the two points at the end of the bell curve had set him to thinking about the relationship between man and God. He carefully drew six dots across a large piece of paper and then with a colored ink drew the connecting bell curves.
He said aloud " man turns into God/ who turns into man /who turns into God /who turns into man/ who turns into God/" what if it would continue? man who turns into God/ who turns into Man/ who turns into God
Ibn carefully took the paper he had been working on and folded it in half upon itself. He now was thinking non-linearly. Ibn moved the first dot and the last dot and lined them up until they would touch except for the thickness of the paper separating them.
Ibn's daughter raced into his garden and jumped in his lap. " Daddy have you been sitting here drawing the whole time". Here are your cherries. Ibn's wife came in. She said his business partner was back and had to see him.
Ibn rose and took his daughter's hand and went to see his business associate. He lost his train of thought about the dots and the paper. Later the screeching bird swooped down and took the paper with the dots to add to the nest she was building.
end
the singing principal
the singing principal
fiction
edward w pritchard
The assistant superintendent had his back to the wall. His iron clad rule was about to be obliterated. Circumstance was forcing him to move a successful school principal from one inner city school to another seven miles away.
The singing principal was very successful. She was blessed with two excellent assistant principals and both were ambitious and wanted her job. They both worked hard and did the unpleasant tasks necessary to maintain discipline and control so the teachers could teach, the good students could learn and the standardized test could be passed. In fact the singing principal got so good at her job that she became bored. In an effort to keep herself highly motivated and to entertain the staff and students she began to sing the announcements throughout the day. In time she made the school seem like a sound stage for a Bollywood musical about high school. However, despite the frivolity she was one of the most successful principals in the local school system.
Another Principal only seven miles away from the singing principal was having lots of trouble at her school. She had upset the parents, teachers and substitute teachers with her methods. She took we are management and you work for us attitude and it did not go over well. Teacher's to make a point called in sick more than usual, substitutes would not go to that school, and parents began to scream. The students who were about 13 years old sensed the lack of unity and took advantage. In time the Assistant superintendent had a mess on his hands. His boss the superintendent was besieged by the newspapers, teachers union, and community. One day the superintendent got a call from one of the local business people, clean up that situation or we will find another head guy.
The superintendent called the assistant superintendent and the assistant super called the singing principal. He told her directly you "just got a promotion and a raise". You start over at the troubled junior high Monday. He Oked her continuing her singing there. In fact she could do what she thought best, just clean up the mess.
end part 1
fiction
edward w pritchard
The assistant superintendent had his back to the wall. His iron clad rule was about to be obliterated. Circumstance was forcing him to move a successful school principal from one inner city school to another seven miles away.
The singing principal was very successful. She was blessed with two excellent assistant principals and both were ambitious and wanted her job. They both worked hard and did the unpleasant tasks necessary to maintain discipline and control so the teachers could teach, the good students could learn and the standardized test could be passed. In fact the singing principal got so good at her job that she became bored. In an effort to keep herself highly motivated and to entertain the staff and students she began to sing the announcements throughout the day. In time she made the school seem like a sound stage for a Bollywood musical about high school. However, despite the frivolity she was one of the most successful principals in the local school system.
Another Principal only seven miles away from the singing principal was having lots of trouble at her school. She had upset the parents, teachers and substitute teachers with her methods. She took we are management and you work for us attitude and it did not go over well. Teacher's to make a point called in sick more than usual, substitutes would not go to that school, and parents began to scream. The students who were about 13 years old sensed the lack of unity and took advantage. In time the Assistant superintendent had a mess on his hands. His boss the superintendent was besieged by the newspapers, teachers union, and community. One day the superintendent got a call from one of the local business people, clean up that situation or we will find another head guy.
The superintendent called the assistant superintendent and the assistant super called the singing principal. He told her directly you "just got a promotion and a raise". You start over at the troubled junior high Monday. He Oked her continuing her singing there. In fact she could do what she thought best, just clean up the mess.
end part 1
Sex, violence and gratuitous revenge against infidels
Sex, violence and gratuitous revenge against infidels
fiction
edward w pritchard
To:
Lucas, Cohen and Richardson
New York, New York
Subject
Fluff and placement payments
Gentlemen:
I have faithfully promoted wood chucks and molybdenum in my stories, two of your targeted words. Yet I have received no residual payments.
Please be advised that I will give you one week to pay all monies due or I will go back to writing Sex, violence and gratuitous revenge against infidels.
author
fiction
edward w pritchard
To:
Lucas, Cohen and Richardson
New York, New York
Subject
Fluff and placement payments
Gentlemen:
I have faithfully promoted wood chucks and molybdenum in my stories, two of your targeted words. Yet I have received no residual payments.
Please be advised that I will give you one week to pay all monies due or I will go back to writing Sex, violence and gratuitous revenge against infidels.
author
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
the air is thin up there
the air is thin up there
fiction
edward w pritchard
I am sure I was the only one to figure out what Lucius was up to. As soon as I read the article in the company internal newspaper I knew right away. Not bad for the Company but the US tax payers spent plenty on Lucius' scheme and with me being honor bound not to turn in a fellow janitor, we have our honor and all, Lucius pulled off a pretty slick little coup. As usual he messed up, fell down into it and came out smelling like a rose and sitting pretty, or should I say sleeping like a baby for Lucius always came to work to catch up on his rest.
Lucius wasn't lazy. He would work like crazy one minute and then find an out of the way place and nap for twenty. No problem, that's how he spent his day at work. We work at the aerospace over at the municipal airport in the little city in Ohio. It's a large company and we get a lot of important government jobs in national defense and we are subject to defense spending so we are always expanding rapidly and hiring like crazy and then cutting back, downsizing, cutting back, getting rid of good people. Eventually there are a lot of bad workers in some of the support jobs, not in engineering, but in an area like mine janitorial. We end up with patient people who are survivors and will put up with the up and down, boom and bust cycles the company goes through.
I am a supervisor in building maintenance and Lucius spent 6 months working in my area and I was his boss. He was intelligent, quick witted and lazy in my opinion. But Lucius always beat the system and I was smart enough not to make a lot of waves and just nurse him along for 6 months until I could help him post into a better higher paying job; which with my help Lucius did. To the day, day number 180 in my area, Lucius posted into a much better job. Before Lucius left to be a janitor in the engineering department, actually a maintenance janitor, I must have found him asleep on the job 83 times. He would go into a job do it very rapidly and then lapse in a dead sleep. He slept deeply at work mainly because of his girlfriend who he brought in to work sometimes, dear old Mary Jane. He would take Mary Jane to an out of the way place and secretively and furtively smoke some and then sleep peacefully for up to an hour or so.
I read in the Company newspaper that Lucius and the engineers over in the blimp hanger were doing some top secret government work on developing an atmosphere in a closed environment maximally conducive to employee morale and motivation. It was sponsored by the US Army and although the technique was secret it involved the air at the top of the Blimp hanger. Lucius although only a janitor was specifically mentioned in the article.
The blimp hanger is a huge black structure previously used to house large blimps. It is mammoth and can be seen from a long way away. Up close it is very high, maybe like a ten or twenty story building. Because of a lot of complicated factors at the top of the blimp hanger an atmosphere develops, and there are clouds and sometimes rain or light snow. There are a lot of catwalks at the top and although it is top secret in there most of us regular long time employees have been up into the clouds in the hanger and have experienced the thin air up in the clouds. It is exciting to walk up there and look down at the floor of the building far far below. You walk on a series of cat walks and as you walk you are high up and it can be very pleasant.
Lucius' division announced the plum defense department contract at a video conference. They had won a 200 million dollar contract sponsored by the army to study possible gases that might increase motivation and relaxation among employees of a control group.
The announcement was made by the head of engineering for Lucius' division and it was said that in a controlled environment, such as the top of the blimp hanger, gases would form that might enhance moods. There was some mention of molybdenum in the video for at ground level of the blimp hanger that element was used in some other top secret work and might be a catalyst that would cause gases to rise into the top of the blimp hanger. It was being studied, to see if someone walked up there on the catwalks if they could be subtlety effected by gases in the air and might enjoy their work day and be more mellow and relaxed at work. Lucius was in the video and when the camera paned to the group of engineers, who had been high up in the thin air at the top of the blimp hangers before the video conference, Lucius looked mellow and had a funny smile but looked a little droopy through the eyes. The video ended with the engineers and Lucius having a party to announce the plum government contract and eating sandwiches, Cheetos and chips and lots Doritos. Apparently a lot of the engineers had taken to exercising up on the cat walks and the thin air improved their moods and gave them an usual voracious appetite. Initially one of the engineers discovered the benefits of the air up in the clouds of the blimp hanger.
I went up in the blimp hanger top the next day and I think, I solved the mystery. There was a junction where three cat walks came together and there was a small platform formed by the intersection of the walkways. Some one had pulled a few low crates together. Immediately I thought of Lucius. If you stretched a blanket or two across the crates you could have a nice little sleeping platform high up in the thin air of the clouds. I didn't find any seeds or roaches but I did distinctly smell Lucius' friend Mary Jane's signature residual perfume near the platform. I felt invigorated when I came down.
The company is happy with the new army contract and Lucius' entire local engineering division got a nice quarterly bonus. Even the janitors. I never said anything about my findings high up in the thin air of the clouds that form at the top of the blimp hanger.
I have no conclusive proof that the mystery element in the thin air up in the catwalks is Mary Jane's perfume. I am honor bound by the code among us janitors not to speak out on something that might lose us a big contract based on only a hunch. The company needs the work. I am also OK with our soldiers getting to breathe in perfume filled air and perfume laced air to relax themselves. Its so much the better if it helps them stay motivated. Our soldiers have a very difficult job and if my silence can make their lives easier I am OK with that.
fiction
edward w pritchard
I am sure I was the only one to figure out what Lucius was up to. As soon as I read the article in the company internal newspaper I knew right away. Not bad for the Company but the US tax payers spent plenty on Lucius' scheme and with me being honor bound not to turn in a fellow janitor, we have our honor and all, Lucius pulled off a pretty slick little coup. As usual he messed up, fell down into it and came out smelling like a rose and sitting pretty, or should I say sleeping like a baby for Lucius always came to work to catch up on his rest.
Lucius wasn't lazy. He would work like crazy one minute and then find an out of the way place and nap for twenty. No problem, that's how he spent his day at work. We work at the aerospace over at the municipal airport in the little city in Ohio. It's a large company and we get a lot of important government jobs in national defense and we are subject to defense spending so we are always expanding rapidly and hiring like crazy and then cutting back, downsizing, cutting back, getting rid of good people. Eventually there are a lot of bad workers in some of the support jobs, not in engineering, but in an area like mine janitorial. We end up with patient people who are survivors and will put up with the up and down, boom and bust cycles the company goes through.
I am a supervisor in building maintenance and Lucius spent 6 months working in my area and I was his boss. He was intelligent, quick witted and lazy in my opinion. But Lucius always beat the system and I was smart enough not to make a lot of waves and just nurse him along for 6 months until I could help him post into a better higher paying job; which with my help Lucius did. To the day, day number 180 in my area, Lucius posted into a much better job. Before Lucius left to be a janitor in the engineering department, actually a maintenance janitor, I must have found him asleep on the job 83 times. He would go into a job do it very rapidly and then lapse in a dead sleep. He slept deeply at work mainly because of his girlfriend who he brought in to work sometimes, dear old Mary Jane. He would take Mary Jane to an out of the way place and secretively and furtively smoke some and then sleep peacefully for up to an hour or so.
I read in the Company newspaper that Lucius and the engineers over in the blimp hanger were doing some top secret government work on developing an atmosphere in a closed environment maximally conducive to employee morale and motivation. It was sponsored by the US Army and although the technique was secret it involved the air at the top of the Blimp hanger. Lucius although only a janitor was specifically mentioned in the article.
The blimp hanger is a huge black structure previously used to house large blimps. It is mammoth and can be seen from a long way away. Up close it is very high, maybe like a ten or twenty story building. Because of a lot of complicated factors at the top of the blimp hanger an atmosphere develops, and there are clouds and sometimes rain or light snow. There are a lot of catwalks at the top and although it is top secret in there most of us regular long time employees have been up into the clouds in the hanger and have experienced the thin air up in the clouds. It is exciting to walk up there and look down at the floor of the building far far below. You walk on a series of cat walks and as you walk you are high up and it can be very pleasant.
Lucius' division announced the plum defense department contract at a video conference. They had won a 200 million dollar contract sponsored by the army to study possible gases that might increase motivation and relaxation among employees of a control group.
The announcement was made by the head of engineering for Lucius' division and it was said that in a controlled environment, such as the top of the blimp hanger, gases would form that might enhance moods. There was some mention of molybdenum in the video for at ground level of the blimp hanger that element was used in some other top secret work and might be a catalyst that would cause gases to rise into the top of the blimp hanger. It was being studied, to see if someone walked up there on the catwalks if they could be subtlety effected by gases in the air and might enjoy their work day and be more mellow and relaxed at work. Lucius was in the video and when the camera paned to the group of engineers, who had been high up in the thin air at the top of the blimp hangers before the video conference, Lucius looked mellow and had a funny smile but looked a little droopy through the eyes. The video ended with the engineers and Lucius having a party to announce the plum government contract and eating sandwiches, Cheetos and chips and lots Doritos. Apparently a lot of the engineers had taken to exercising up on the cat walks and the thin air improved their moods and gave them an usual voracious appetite. Initially one of the engineers discovered the benefits of the air up in the clouds of the blimp hanger.
I went up in the blimp hanger top the next day and I think, I solved the mystery. There was a junction where three cat walks came together and there was a small platform formed by the intersection of the walkways. Some one had pulled a few low crates together. Immediately I thought of Lucius. If you stretched a blanket or two across the crates you could have a nice little sleeping platform high up in the thin air of the clouds. I didn't find any seeds or roaches but I did distinctly smell Lucius' friend Mary Jane's signature residual perfume near the platform. I felt invigorated when I came down.
The company is happy with the new army contract and Lucius' entire local engineering division got a nice quarterly bonus. Even the janitors. I never said anything about my findings high up in the thin air of the clouds that form at the top of the blimp hanger.
I have no conclusive proof that the mystery element in the thin air up in the catwalks is Mary Jane's perfume. I am honor bound by the code among us janitors not to speak out on something that might lose us a big contract based on only a hunch. The company needs the work. I am also OK with our soldiers getting to breathe in perfume filled air and perfume laced air to relax themselves. Its so much the better if it helps them stay motivated. Our soldiers have a very difficult job and if my silence can make their lives easier I am OK with that.
Monday, April 26, 2010
potato pan cakes
potato pan cakes
fiction
edward w pritchard
After he got laid off from the last remaining company making tires in our town, Akron Ohio, once rubber capital of the world, Harry took a year off and collected unemployment and weighted his options.
Harry's financial requirements were modest. He lived alone and drove an old truck and his house fit him and he seldom felt the urge to upgrade his house, his vehicle or his life style.
Toward the end of the unemployment Harry began to look for another job and found like others over fifty years old that the world is indifferent to whether or not we can make a financial go of it anymore.
Harry decided to work as a short order cook just to get busy and to get used to being out of the house again. He had done that job in college and had enjoyed it. He had been good at it and people came from all over town to get his hamburgers and especially his chili.
The diner where Harry got his job was open 24 hours and strived to keep prices modest and low, sometimes unsuccessfully, and Harry had freedom to cook what he wanted as long it was exactly like it was described in words and pictures on the menu. In a short time Harry became known locally as a good cook again and people began to line up to get his food when he worked.
After a few months Harry got bored with cooking the same things all the time. He began to experiment with potato pancakes, the only item not pictured in color on the menu. In fact there was no picture of the potato pan cakes on the five page menu only a brief description. "crispy fried potatoes, in a patty french style, hot and delicious.
Harry expanded on that description and began to make thin Chinese style potato pancakes and eventually began to roll up in the potato pancakes diced chicken, steak meat or for vegetarians a concoction of thinly sliced vegetables. Harry's pancakes were delicious and sold very well. Customers lined up to get them and the owner was very happy with Harry and began to pay him top wage, nearly $9.50 an hour.
Harry enjoyed the new job and took a lot of satisfaction in being the finest potato pancake chef in our home town. Sometimes however he did miss his old pay as a tire builder, nearly $22.59 an hour.
Money isn't everything, and that's good because Harry is pretty much capped out as a cook at the small diner. He could start his own diner but that would involve a bank loan and finding a building and a lot of upfront costs.
For now Harry is satisfied being the finest potato pancake cook in Akron, Ohio; and Akron is adjusting to not making tires anymore. Akron does have a lot of growth in telemarketing jobs. The telemarketing jobs don't pay well but the workers at the call center are kind of rushed at lunch and like to stop after work and have potato pancakes as long as the prices stay reasonable at the diner where Harry works. The diner's owner knows that his customers now are watching their budgets like never before and that's why Harry's pay is capped at $9.50 and hour.
The market determines these things. It balances out wages and profits and costs. Meanwhile Harry continues to make excellent tasting potato pancakes. Out of town companies like to move jobs like telemarketing into places like Akron, Ohio because wages are low. The City's economic development people like to proclaim all the new job growth. Sometimes it is hard for the new telemarketing employed people to afford houses and the aggregate property tax that pays for the school system keeps falling
causing cuts in the number of schools in the City of Akron and the quality of the education that students get. Of course there our other factors involved in determining the quality of education the students receive. Eventually prices for houses will fall and eventually the telemarketers will be able to afford houses. People who do the telemarketing jobs contribute to the local economy, have children and still send them to local schools even if they sometimes can't afford houses and therefore don't pay property taxes. Also the telemarketing employees enjoy potatoes pancakes after work and that's good for the economy and Harry's boss can afford to pay him top wage.
The market determines these things.
fiction
edward w pritchard
After he got laid off from the last remaining company making tires in our town, Akron Ohio, once rubber capital of the world, Harry took a year off and collected unemployment and weighted his options.
Harry's financial requirements were modest. He lived alone and drove an old truck and his house fit him and he seldom felt the urge to upgrade his house, his vehicle or his life style.
Toward the end of the unemployment Harry began to look for another job and found like others over fifty years old that the world is indifferent to whether or not we can make a financial go of it anymore.
Harry decided to work as a short order cook just to get busy and to get used to being out of the house again. He had done that job in college and had enjoyed it. He had been good at it and people came from all over town to get his hamburgers and especially his chili.
The diner where Harry got his job was open 24 hours and strived to keep prices modest and low, sometimes unsuccessfully, and Harry had freedom to cook what he wanted as long it was exactly like it was described in words and pictures on the menu. In a short time Harry became known locally as a good cook again and people began to line up to get his food when he worked.
After a few months Harry got bored with cooking the same things all the time. He began to experiment with potato pancakes, the only item not pictured in color on the menu. In fact there was no picture of the potato pan cakes on the five page menu only a brief description. "crispy fried potatoes, in a patty french style, hot and delicious.
Harry expanded on that description and began to make thin Chinese style potato pancakes and eventually began to roll up in the potato pancakes diced chicken, steak meat or for vegetarians a concoction of thinly sliced vegetables. Harry's pancakes were delicious and sold very well. Customers lined up to get them and the owner was very happy with Harry and began to pay him top wage, nearly $9.50 an hour.
Harry enjoyed the new job and took a lot of satisfaction in being the finest potato pancake chef in our home town. Sometimes however he did miss his old pay as a tire builder, nearly $22.59 an hour.
Money isn't everything, and that's good because Harry is pretty much capped out as a cook at the small diner. He could start his own diner but that would involve a bank loan and finding a building and a lot of upfront costs.
For now Harry is satisfied being the finest potato pancake cook in Akron, Ohio; and Akron is adjusting to not making tires anymore. Akron does have a lot of growth in telemarketing jobs. The telemarketing jobs don't pay well but the workers at the call center are kind of rushed at lunch and like to stop after work and have potato pancakes as long as the prices stay reasonable at the diner where Harry works. The diner's owner knows that his customers now are watching their budgets like never before and that's why Harry's pay is capped at $9.50 and hour.
The market determines these things. It balances out wages and profits and costs. Meanwhile Harry continues to make excellent tasting potato pancakes. Out of town companies like to move jobs like telemarketing into places like Akron, Ohio because wages are low. The City's economic development people like to proclaim all the new job growth. Sometimes it is hard for the new telemarketing employed people to afford houses and the aggregate property tax that pays for the school system keeps falling
causing cuts in the number of schools in the City of Akron and the quality of the education that students get. Of course there our other factors involved in determining the quality of education the students receive. Eventually prices for houses will fall and eventually the telemarketers will be able to afford houses. People who do the telemarketing jobs contribute to the local economy, have children and still send them to local schools even if they sometimes can't afford houses and therefore don't pay property taxes. Also the telemarketing employees enjoy potatoes pancakes after work and that's good for the economy and Harry's boss can afford to pay him top wage.
The market determines these things.
the father son combination
the father son combination
fiction
edward w pritchard
I had known the Father as an expert in the nuances of the arcane art of finance. The Father was honest and sincere and through diligence and perseverance had became successful at advising someone on investing their money and then surgically removing a few quarters or a few quarters of per cent age from the clients money piles slowly over time.
I needed to talk to the Father about some voodoo aspect of the stock market and I couldn't get through to him. It was just the three of them, the Father, his son and their "girl", she answered the phones and executed the orders with the back office over on one of the moons of Saturn. Actually Saturn was the home office, for this Father/son office was just a production office, sales only now, the real stock brokerage having moved three or four times and now being in North Carolina, I was exaggerating a little about Saturn. I exaggerated because I might have been transferred to Saturn when trying to call the home office recently.
Bright and early one Monday morning I got a return phone call about my original question that I had eventually left with the girl for the Father. It was the son Walter calling. Young Walter, recently graduated from University. It was the same State College in our hometown that I had modestly attended and graduated from. Now however, our local institution had acquired the status and prestige of Harvard, or Oxford over in England. The son told me at the beginning of our conversation to establish his credentials.
Walter felt, and Dad confirmed that we were in a prolonged bull phase, just starting that would take the Dow to 16, 000 [ now at 11,000]. The market moved in 23 phases he explained, Fibonacci calibrated, influenced by the weather in Pisa, Italy [ Fibonacci hometown] and we were now in phase 2 and the next five steps would be sharply up and it was a good time, no a precipitous time, to top off ones portfolio with some classic blue chips stocks.
Walter, the son had a list that he and Dad had painstakingly compiled. After hemming and hawing, trying to protect the valuable intellectual property of the entire list he gave me the first four secret companies, proprietary to their local office of the mighty stock brokerage from North Carolina. I waited as Walter took the list from the office vault. The four companies, newly emerging into an explosive bull pattern, posed for rocketing exponential bull growth, but still having their required standard blue chip stability ratings were:
Pepsi Coke, McDonald's and Wal Mart.
Walter gasped and said they were going to rise through the next 7 to 9 Fibonacci cycles and then and this was normal, to be expected, and no cause for panic or alarm, would pull back approximately 4 per cent sometime either two years from now, June 23 or as late as July 8th, it was difficult to be precise because the actions of the Federal reserve were a wild card.
I took my leave of young Walter, by phone that is, and later went over to the Country Club. I am not a member but found Walter's Dad there and the Father even bought me a drink as he answered my question about the tax implications of dividend withdrawals. I didn't mention anything to him about Walter who was now summarily manning the phones as Dad sat at the Country club this Tuesday morning.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
I had known the Father as an expert in the nuances of the arcane art of finance. The Father was honest and sincere and through diligence and perseverance had became successful at advising someone on investing their money and then surgically removing a few quarters or a few quarters of per cent age from the clients money piles slowly over time.
I needed to talk to the Father about some voodoo aspect of the stock market and I couldn't get through to him. It was just the three of them, the Father, his son and their "girl", she answered the phones and executed the orders with the back office over on one of the moons of Saturn. Actually Saturn was the home office, for this Father/son office was just a production office, sales only now, the real stock brokerage having moved three or four times and now being in North Carolina, I was exaggerating a little about Saturn. I exaggerated because I might have been transferred to Saturn when trying to call the home office recently.
Bright and early one Monday morning I got a return phone call about my original question that I had eventually left with the girl for the Father. It was the son Walter calling. Young Walter, recently graduated from University. It was the same State College in our hometown that I had modestly attended and graduated from. Now however, our local institution had acquired the status and prestige of Harvard, or Oxford over in England. The son told me at the beginning of our conversation to establish his credentials.
Walter felt, and Dad confirmed that we were in a prolonged bull phase, just starting that would take the Dow to 16, 000 [ now at 11,000]. The market moved in 23 phases he explained, Fibonacci calibrated, influenced by the weather in Pisa, Italy [ Fibonacci hometown] and we were now in phase 2 and the next five steps would be sharply up and it was a good time, no a precipitous time, to top off ones portfolio with some classic blue chips stocks.
Walter, the son had a list that he and Dad had painstakingly compiled. After hemming and hawing, trying to protect the valuable intellectual property of the entire list he gave me the first four secret companies, proprietary to their local office of the mighty stock brokerage from North Carolina. I waited as Walter took the list from the office vault. The four companies, newly emerging into an explosive bull pattern, posed for rocketing exponential bull growth, but still having their required standard blue chip stability ratings were:
Pepsi Coke, McDonald's and Wal Mart.
Walter gasped and said they were going to rise through the next 7 to 9 Fibonacci cycles and then and this was normal, to be expected, and no cause for panic or alarm, would pull back approximately 4 per cent sometime either two years from now, June 23 or as late as July 8th, it was difficult to be precise because the actions of the Federal reserve were a wild card.
I took my leave of young Walter, by phone that is, and later went over to the Country Club. I am not a member but found Walter's Dad there and the Father even bought me a drink as he answered my question about the tax implications of dividend withdrawals. I didn't mention anything to him about Walter who was now summarily manning the phones as Dad sat at the Country club this Tuesday morning.
end
Sunday, April 25, 2010
sketches of women part 2
sketches of women part 2
fiction
edward w pritchard
the perfect runner
Many had objected to a woman making the run. The girl was 14 years old and had been chosen because she had perfect form and no one could challenge her in the tribe as a runner. She was the strongest runner. She shouldn't be doing this important task because a woman had never been welcome to lead the tribe for preparations of war. In the end however, she was chosen and she was running twenty two miles along the river toward the Southern village.
She carried only herbs, which it was hoped would make well the famous negotiator, and water for herself.
Her Father was disqualified as her coach for the run. He was not able to be objective, for he loved and worried about his daughter, and despite his duty and advice to treat her like a son he couldn't do it. The Grandfather was chosen to talk to her before the urgent run.
The Grandfather was respected and wore the multi- colored coat of honor from previous sacrifices for the tribe in warfare. The grandfather had his wife cut the sleeves of the coat, turning it into a light vest and gave it to the grand daughter to run with and wear the family colors a great honor for a woman.
When the girl, who was stretching accepted the vest from the grandfather, as he removed the shirt and stood in front of her she was amazed by the scars up and down his back and chest. He took both his hands and placed them on the girls forearms in the traditional sendoff to warriors to battle and she began to jog steadily toward the Southern lake village.
end
The handicapped girl
Joy through suffering. The girl was a student at the junior high and struggled to manipulate the crowded chaotic halls to get to class on time. She refused any special treatment and cheerfully endured her fate.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
the perfect runner
Many had objected to a woman making the run. The girl was 14 years old and had been chosen because she had perfect form and no one could challenge her in the tribe as a runner. She was the strongest runner. She shouldn't be doing this important task because a woman had never been welcome to lead the tribe for preparations of war. In the end however, she was chosen and she was running twenty two miles along the river toward the Southern village.
She carried only herbs, which it was hoped would make well the famous negotiator, and water for herself.
Her Father was disqualified as her coach for the run. He was not able to be objective, for he loved and worried about his daughter, and despite his duty and advice to treat her like a son he couldn't do it. The Grandfather was chosen to talk to her before the urgent run.
The Grandfather was respected and wore the multi- colored coat of honor from previous sacrifices for the tribe in warfare. The grandfather had his wife cut the sleeves of the coat, turning it into a light vest and gave it to the grand daughter to run with and wear the family colors a great honor for a woman.
When the girl, who was stretching accepted the vest from the grandfather, as he removed the shirt and stood in front of her she was amazed by the scars up and down his back and chest. He took both his hands and placed them on the girls forearms in the traditional sendoff to warriors to battle and she began to jog steadily toward the Southern lake village.
end
The handicapped girl
Joy through suffering. The girl was a student at the junior high and struggled to manipulate the crowded chaotic halls to get to class on time. She refused any special treatment and cheerfully endured her fate.
end
sketches of women
sketches of women
fiction
edward w pritchard
Beautician, part time only:
The young lady was six months pregnant, her husband had recently lost his job and she was working part time at the franchised beauty shop.
This was to be her third child. She was experiencing pain in her legs from standing but was fighting not to take a non aspirin product, maybe bad for the baby.
She walked into the back and let the woman who was getting her hair dyed wait a couple of extra minutes and sat down. Returning to work she listened to the customers complain about their boyfriends and inability to lose weight.
Young waitress:
She was very confident with herself, confident on her feet.
She looked at you straight in the eyes and was a little too pretty to look at for too long.
I am sure all the men were too friendly with her, but although she was young she had the look of the Medici, that is the Italian aristocracy, and she commanded a certain respect.
She said she was a student and wasn't sure what she wanted to do. She slid next to me, me sitting alone in my seat and she talked a minute.
When she left the room, she did look a little sad, at least once.
Old Waitress in costume jewelry:
Everything she said was a contradiction to her previous statement. No, I am not talking about someone ex-wife, it was our waitress, not a waitress at a donut shop, but at a dark diner in a dieing town, once a promising city.
We got a table, we didn't have to sit at the ice cream counter, it said Hershey's ice cream, and looked like a brightly colored coffin. Instead we were at a cramped table.
Our waitress was related to 11th century European royalty, at least in her own mind. She had an attitude that she was too good for her job, no harm really, but it did ruin our meal.
They say depression and anxiety are caused by our inability to deal with a situation that continues to bother us after we realize we should take some action. That waitress needs to make some changes in her life if she can.
I am OK with her going for therapy or even little white pills, but I kinda of liked her and left a nice tip, even though she ruined our meal. I am OK with her getting therapy and medication but please don't call it personal growth at least not around me.
A pretty girl with an accent and a hijab
She was a second year student at the college majoring in Mathematics. Her families financial situation had changed dramatically and she was forced to take a part time job in America where she studied at the University.
She had never faced any kind of prejudice before not even at home as a woman. It took her a while to get used to the gibes in America at her part time job.
She put up with the prejudice at the Midwestern town in America for three years and then after she graduated decided to move to a large east coast city to escape the provincialism.
Not a talker
A good person, who didn't have much to say so everybody eventually ignored her and took advantage.
Beautiful Girl
One day when I stopped to collect at his apartment he had an extremely beautiful blond girl there. He was very fat and really wanted to impress me and introduced her as a playboy bunny. It was probably true because he got a lot of important phone calls and tipped very well. She was about 5 or 6 years older than me and he told me a lot of suggestive jokes about her right in front of me.
Sunday when I was delivering papers at 5AM I saw her at the corner of the apartment building by the Lake, standing outside freezing, and smoking a cigarette and staring across the Lake. She asked me to stay a minute and she put her hand on my arm. She started to cry. I never was good at that kind of situation and I was worse at 15 years old.
Looking through the beauty I could see how she would look when she was old.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Beautician, part time only:
The young lady was six months pregnant, her husband had recently lost his job and she was working part time at the franchised beauty shop.
This was to be her third child. She was experiencing pain in her legs from standing but was fighting not to take a non aspirin product, maybe bad for the baby.
She walked into the back and let the woman who was getting her hair dyed wait a couple of extra minutes and sat down. Returning to work she listened to the customers complain about their boyfriends and inability to lose weight.
Young waitress:
She was very confident with herself, confident on her feet.
She looked at you straight in the eyes and was a little too pretty to look at for too long.
I am sure all the men were too friendly with her, but although she was young she had the look of the Medici, that is the Italian aristocracy, and she commanded a certain respect.
She said she was a student and wasn't sure what she wanted to do. She slid next to me, me sitting alone in my seat and she talked a minute.
When she left the room, she did look a little sad, at least once.
Old Waitress in costume jewelry:
Everything she said was a contradiction to her previous statement. No, I am not talking about someone ex-wife, it was our waitress, not a waitress at a donut shop, but at a dark diner in a dieing town, once a promising city.
We got a table, we didn't have to sit at the ice cream counter, it said Hershey's ice cream, and looked like a brightly colored coffin. Instead we were at a cramped table.
Our waitress was related to 11th century European royalty, at least in her own mind. She had an attitude that she was too good for her job, no harm really, but it did ruin our meal.
They say depression and anxiety are caused by our inability to deal with a situation that continues to bother us after we realize we should take some action. That waitress needs to make some changes in her life if she can.
I am OK with her going for therapy or even little white pills, but I kinda of liked her and left a nice tip, even though she ruined our meal. I am OK with her getting therapy and medication but please don't call it personal growth at least not around me.
A pretty girl with an accent and a hijab
She was a second year student at the college majoring in Mathematics. Her families financial situation had changed dramatically and she was forced to take a part time job in America where she studied at the University.
She had never faced any kind of prejudice before not even at home as a woman. It took her a while to get used to the gibes in America at her part time job.
She put up with the prejudice at the Midwestern town in America for three years and then after she graduated decided to move to a large east coast city to escape the provincialism.
Not a talker
A good person, who didn't have much to say so everybody eventually ignored her and took advantage.
Beautiful Girl
One day when I stopped to collect at his apartment he had an extremely beautiful blond girl there. He was very fat and really wanted to impress me and introduced her as a playboy bunny. It was probably true because he got a lot of important phone calls and tipped very well. She was about 5 or 6 years older than me and he told me a lot of suggestive jokes about her right in front of me.
Sunday when I was delivering papers at 5AM I saw her at the corner of the apartment building by the Lake, standing outside freezing, and smoking a cigarette and staring across the Lake. She asked me to stay a minute and she put her hand on my arm. She started to cry. I never was good at that kind of situation and I was worse at 15 years old.
Looking through the beauty I could see how she would look when she was old.
end
Divine design and common sense -version 2
Divine design and common sense -version 2
fiction
edward w pritchard
see version 1 same theme
Titus was traveling with his lord Gentile to the council of Nicaea in the year AD 325 in Iznik turkey [- for more on Iznik see the wandering beggar who impersonated Jesus feb blog]. His lord, Gentile was preoccupied and troubled throughout the journey.
Gentile was an honored speaker going to the council of Nicaea specifically to arrange and codify a consensus among all the bishops present concerning the role of divine design in the history of the cosmos. Nearly all of the major Christian bishops would be present.
It seems to us present readers, looking back into history from the convenience of our position in the future, regarding the Council of Nicaea, the seminal event in shaping modern Christian thought; that all present, men and bishops believed in God, they were specifically coming to reach common gound on doctrinal matters, and all were supposed to be Christians. However, at that time and place there was much disagreement, political in fighting, and favoritism for some people wouldn't support a position unless they got something out of it. In short despite the important religious underpinnings of the meeting, in reality things were similar to a political meeting now and it was stressful and unpleasant to reach a consensus on any issue; even one as important as agreeing to God's role in designing the Earth and the Cosmos.
Gentile was pacing about the campsite on the way to the meeting in Iznik tomorrow. They had been traveling for two days and Titus was functioning as a guide, body guard and assistant to Lord Gentile. Titus was not an educated man but he had seen much, been a soldier and had worked for other lords. For Gentile he functioned not as a slave but as business associate. It troubled him to see Gentile troubled and concerned him that Gentile had not written out his presentation for the assembled bishops on divine design. Titus knew Gentile to be brilliant but he couldn't see the issue. Titus saw God's hand in the world around him and didn't need to read about it or debate it to know that.
Gentile was still pacing and Titus decided to take the bull by the horns so to speak and show his lord what he Titus thought on the issue of divine design. He brought Gentile some fresh blackberries he had picked and gave them to the hungry Gentile who had got so preoccupied in his debating and fretting with himself that he had neglected to eat.
As Gentile attacked the delicious blackberries and then thanked Titus for picking them, Titus said there is your evidence of divine design master.
Among other things agreed at the Council of Nicaea, including the Creed of Nicaea, was consensus on divine design in the cosmos. There was much debate and unnecessary infighting but Gentile ruled the debate and began his presentation with "consider the blackberry" and then he gave each participant at the long afternoon meeting a bowl of the delicious fresh fruit passed out by his assistant Titus. Gentile ruled the day and the issue of divine design was voted as common sense needing no debate.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
see version 1 same theme
Titus was traveling with his lord Gentile to the council of Nicaea in the year AD 325 in Iznik turkey [- for more on Iznik see the wandering beggar who impersonated Jesus feb blog]. His lord, Gentile was preoccupied and troubled throughout the journey.
Gentile was an honored speaker going to the council of Nicaea specifically to arrange and codify a consensus among all the bishops present concerning the role of divine design in the history of the cosmos. Nearly all of the major Christian bishops would be present.
It seems to us present readers, looking back into history from the convenience of our position in the future, regarding the Council of Nicaea, the seminal event in shaping modern Christian thought; that all present, men and bishops believed in God, they were specifically coming to reach common gound on doctrinal matters, and all were supposed to be Christians. However, at that time and place there was much disagreement, political in fighting, and favoritism for some people wouldn't support a position unless they got something out of it. In short despite the important religious underpinnings of the meeting, in reality things were similar to a political meeting now and it was stressful and unpleasant to reach a consensus on any issue; even one as important as agreeing to God's role in designing the Earth and the Cosmos.
Gentile was pacing about the campsite on the way to the meeting in Iznik tomorrow. They had been traveling for two days and Titus was functioning as a guide, body guard and assistant to Lord Gentile. Titus was not an educated man but he had seen much, been a soldier and had worked for other lords. For Gentile he functioned not as a slave but as business associate. It troubled him to see Gentile troubled and concerned him that Gentile had not written out his presentation for the assembled bishops on divine design. Titus knew Gentile to be brilliant but he couldn't see the issue. Titus saw God's hand in the world around him and didn't need to read about it or debate it to know that.
Gentile was still pacing and Titus decided to take the bull by the horns so to speak and show his lord what he Titus thought on the issue of divine design. He brought Gentile some fresh blackberries he had picked and gave them to the hungry Gentile who had got so preoccupied in his debating and fretting with himself that he had neglected to eat.
As Gentile attacked the delicious blackberries and then thanked Titus for picking them, Titus said there is your evidence of divine design master.
Among other things agreed at the Council of Nicaea, including the Creed of Nicaea, was consensus on divine design in the cosmos. There was much debate and unnecessary infighting but Gentile ruled the debate and began his presentation with "consider the blackberry" and then he gave each participant at the long afternoon meeting a bowl of the delicious fresh fruit passed out by his assistant Titus. Gentile ruled the day and the issue of divine design was voted as common sense needing no debate.
end
divine design and common sense
divine design and common sense
fiction
edward w pritchard
devine design and common sense
Little Wanda was listening to her two uncles argue. She was about twenty feet away and was the only one except them left in the large room.
Phil and his brother Larry had been arguing for about twenty minutes. Tempers were flaring and the relatives had left the room. Both had long since past the point where a practical person would have agreed to disagree and been sitting instead with a cold beer and watching the football game.
Wanda who was eight was listening intrigued by their conversation. She didn't understand most of what they were saying but their methods were fascinating. She knew they did this often and then somehow were able to talk again afterward, but maybe not for a few weeks.
Wanda listen to what they were saying carefully:
They were arguing about things being irreducible, creation history, and scientific theory and evolution. Bacon introduced the empirical approach which was central to modern science.
Wanda loved bacon. She had smelled bacon cooking when she came to Grandma's twenty minutes ago and she got up and ran up to her Grandmother's kitchen to get some.
Aunt Josie was talking about Uncle Phil and Uncle Larry in the kitchen. Wanda again listened carefully to Aunt Josie talk about her brothers:
Larry was logical and thought that argument was teleological and often used the Socratic method to enlighten others.
Phil believed that words revealed truth but the individual often didn't comprehend meaning or significance. Phil had faith but was unsure why. He felt more than understood and often talked or wrote of dreams as inspiring or directing his understanding. Phil admitted there were many things he didn't under stand.
"About Five minutes to brunch, Wandie said Aunt Megan"
Wanda wandered back down and sat and listened again to her uncles again. Both were too engrossed to see her leave or return:
Uncle Phil called Uncle Larry a sophist of the literal, and Uncle Larry called Uncle Phil an impractical fool and architect who wouldn't never demolish a decrepit building.
Uncle Phil said Evolution cannot adequately account for the history, diversity, and complexity of life on Earth.
Uncle Phil said Uncle Larry delighted in confounding and confusing. Uncle Larry spent his time breaking and destroying any system but his own.
Uncle Larry said Both Jews and Christians had been considering the idea of the creation history as an allegory
Five minutes were up. Wanda went upstairs. Food was everywhere and her Aunt's were helping her cousins fill their plates. Before Wanda took a large plate of bacon for herself she got two large bowls of the fresh cold blackberries, two of the best spoons, and put a little whip cream on a third plate and took it to her Uncles on a small silver platter that grandma kept under the dish buffet in the dining room.
Uncle Phil was talking when she walked in:
Literal sense is for human needs; but allegorical sense is real, which only the initiated comprehend.
Both Uncles stood up. Where did you come from Panther said Uncle Phil. Uncle Larry took the platter and Uncle Phil rubbed Wanda's head in a circle like he had been doing since he had first looked at Wandie when she one day old.
Wanda sat a minute and watched her Uncle's eat. Both thanked and thanked her for the delicious black berries. Uncle Larry liked whipped cream on his but Uncle Phil didn't.
Wanda sat a minute or two to be polite and then raced upstairs to get a plate of bacon before her cousins took it all. On the way to the kitchen she asked her Aunt Vell how God made blackberries.
End
fiction
edward w pritchard
devine design and common sense
Little Wanda was listening to her two uncles argue. She was about twenty feet away and was the only one except them left in the large room.
Phil and his brother Larry had been arguing for about twenty minutes. Tempers were flaring and the relatives had left the room. Both had long since past the point where a practical person would have agreed to disagree and been sitting instead with a cold beer and watching the football game.
Wanda who was eight was listening intrigued by their conversation. She didn't understand most of what they were saying but their methods were fascinating. She knew they did this often and then somehow were able to talk again afterward, but maybe not for a few weeks.
Wanda listen to what they were saying carefully:
They were arguing about things being irreducible, creation history, and scientific theory and evolution. Bacon introduced the empirical approach which was central to modern science.
Wanda loved bacon. She had smelled bacon cooking when she came to Grandma's twenty minutes ago and she got up and ran up to her Grandmother's kitchen to get some.
Aunt Josie was talking about Uncle Phil and Uncle Larry in the kitchen. Wanda again listened carefully to Aunt Josie talk about her brothers:
Larry was logical and thought that argument was teleological and often used the Socratic method to enlighten others.
Phil believed that words revealed truth but the individual often didn't comprehend meaning or significance. Phil had faith but was unsure why. He felt more than understood and often talked or wrote of dreams as inspiring or directing his understanding. Phil admitted there were many things he didn't under stand.
"About Five minutes to brunch, Wandie said Aunt Megan"
Wanda wandered back down and sat and listened again to her uncles again. Both were too engrossed to see her leave or return:
Uncle Phil called Uncle Larry a sophist of the literal, and Uncle Larry called Uncle Phil an impractical fool and architect who wouldn't never demolish a decrepit building.
Uncle Phil said Evolution cannot adequately account for the history, diversity, and complexity of life on Earth.
Uncle Phil said Uncle Larry delighted in confounding and confusing. Uncle Larry spent his time breaking and destroying any system but his own.
Uncle Larry said Both Jews and Christians had been considering the idea of the creation history as an allegory
Five minutes were up. Wanda went upstairs. Food was everywhere and her Aunt's were helping her cousins fill their plates. Before Wanda took a large plate of bacon for herself she got two large bowls of the fresh cold blackberries, two of the best spoons, and put a little whip cream on a third plate and took it to her Uncles on a small silver platter that grandma kept under the dish buffet in the dining room.
Uncle Phil was talking when she walked in:
Literal sense is for human needs; but allegorical sense is real, which only the initiated comprehend.
Both Uncles stood up. Where did you come from Panther said Uncle Phil. Uncle Larry took the platter and Uncle Phil rubbed Wanda's head in a circle like he had been doing since he had first looked at Wandie when she one day old.
Wanda sat a minute and watched her Uncle's eat. Both thanked and thanked her for the delicious black berries. Uncle Larry liked whipped cream on his but Uncle Phil didn't.
Wanda sat a minute or two to be polite and then raced upstairs to get a plate of bacon before her cousins took it all. On the way to the kitchen she asked her Aunt Vell how God made blackberries.
End
Saturday, April 24, 2010
old pastor marquette
old pastor marquette
fiction
edward w pritchard
Because of the recession and bank foreclosures Pastor Marquette lost his parish house when the church closed and with our church not allowing marriage he ended up alone and homeless. We had no national religious affiliation and the remaining members of the congregation who didn't move away were unable to help old Pastor Marquette because of struggling to survive on their own.
All was not hopeless for the Pastor however. He received a small check from the State for unemployment for a year or more and he was able to find shelter because of his previous good works to the local community. The goodwill industries allowed him to live in the local large yellow collection box used for collecting and storing clothes and other items from charitable giving. Pastor was allowed first choice of any items donated so he always had a warm coat, gloves and usually comfortable shoes. He also had his choice of used golf clubs, out of print books or board games.
It was a little crowded in the yellow collection box sometimes but the Pastor didn't complain. In fact any time someone would make a donation he would recite an appropriate piece of scripture. This created a lot of warm feeling in the hearts of the givers of the kindly donations.
Many people in our town credit old pastor Marquette with helping our area successfully endure the last recession. He's gone now but I can still see him climbing out of the old yellow collection box, cheerfully greeting the charitable givers and humbly blessing them with an appropriate scriptural reading.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Because of the recession and bank foreclosures Pastor Marquette lost his parish house when the church closed and with our church not allowing marriage he ended up alone and homeless. We had no national religious affiliation and the remaining members of the congregation who didn't move away were unable to help old Pastor Marquette because of struggling to survive on their own.
All was not hopeless for the Pastor however. He received a small check from the State for unemployment for a year or more and he was able to find shelter because of his previous good works to the local community. The goodwill industries allowed him to live in the local large yellow collection box used for collecting and storing clothes and other items from charitable giving. Pastor was allowed first choice of any items donated so he always had a warm coat, gloves and usually comfortable shoes. He also had his choice of used golf clubs, out of print books or board games.
It was a little crowded in the yellow collection box sometimes but the Pastor didn't complain. In fact any time someone would make a donation he would recite an appropriate piece of scripture. This created a lot of warm feeling in the hearts of the givers of the kindly donations.
Many people in our town credit old pastor Marquette with helping our area successfully endure the last recession. He's gone now but I can still see him climbing out of the old yellow collection box, cheerfully greeting the charitable givers and humbly blessing them with an appropriate scriptural reading.
end
success was just out of reach
success was just out of reach
fiction
edward w pritchard
Setting
A cheesy looking office set on a television sound stage. There is a mural behind a desk displaying the sky line of Dubeque, Iowa. A young man in a very expensive suit and wearing thick expensive looking glasses tries to appear pensive, authoritative and empathetic to the late night TV viewer. He looks at first glance to be 14 years old but at second glace might be 19. Across from him at the desk is a provocative Russian looking gymnast/speed skater. She might have been a porn star or might be an aspiring small market TV weather girl.
The young man is holding his new book, his third this year and she listens intently, she attempts communication but fails but the camera pans from her legs to upper torso and occasionally freezes at length on her intriguing face.
Young Man enthusiastically-Success was always just out of my reach.- I came from an impoverished background. I had to drop out of high school after graduation. I attended a state college,-we traveled only off season, we had no servants at home. Everything I tried I failed at. I tried, I tried, career after career.
She-really Bobby, that sounds preponderating
Young Man -This saved me Tasha, My book, well not this book, I am holding here my third book, incidentally available through, Irrandom house, my first book actually saved me, the entire text came to me in a dream while I slept in my two story tree house in my parents back yard. [ young man goes on at length how he laid an egg, and wrote his first book].
Picking up the conversation
Her- Oh Bobby
Him Here's my invention that goes with my third book. He stands and although very short he is wearing titanium banded jumping boots. He bounces maybe ten feet into the air toward the high ceiling and holds tightly on to book. Camera pans to co-hosts legs.
Him- This is the revelation of my third book Tasha- it's easier to reach the top in America, recession or no, if you are taller. To be taller instantly wear my banded jumping boots. Taller is closer to God. God wants us to be successful. Read the books, especially number 3 and God Bless, see you on easy street. Peace and brotherhood.
Music appropriate per cable channel demographics follow and show ends with close up of Tasha.
End
fiction
edward w pritchard
Setting
A cheesy looking office set on a television sound stage. There is a mural behind a desk displaying the sky line of Dubeque, Iowa. A young man in a very expensive suit and wearing thick expensive looking glasses tries to appear pensive, authoritative and empathetic to the late night TV viewer. He looks at first glance to be 14 years old but at second glace might be 19. Across from him at the desk is a provocative Russian looking gymnast/speed skater. She might have been a porn star or might be an aspiring small market TV weather girl.
The young man is holding his new book, his third this year and she listens intently, she attempts communication but fails but the camera pans from her legs to upper torso and occasionally freezes at length on her intriguing face.
Young Man enthusiastically-Success was always just out of my reach.- I came from an impoverished background. I had to drop out of high school after graduation. I attended a state college,-we traveled only off season, we had no servants at home. Everything I tried I failed at. I tried, I tried, career after career.
She-really Bobby, that sounds preponderating
Young Man -This saved me Tasha, My book, well not this book, I am holding here my third book, incidentally available through, Irrandom house, my first book actually saved me, the entire text came to me in a dream while I slept in my two story tree house in my parents back yard. [ young man goes on at length how he laid an egg, and wrote his first book].
Picking up the conversation
Her- Oh Bobby
Him Here's my invention that goes with my third book. He stands and although very short he is wearing titanium banded jumping boots. He bounces maybe ten feet into the air toward the high ceiling and holds tightly on to book. Camera pans to co-hosts legs.
Him- This is the revelation of my third book Tasha- it's easier to reach the top in America, recession or no, if you are taller. To be taller instantly wear my banded jumping boots. Taller is closer to God. God wants us to be successful. Read the books, especially number 3 and God Bless, see you on easy street. Peace and brotherhood.
Music appropriate per cable channel demographics follow and show ends with close up of Tasha.
End
My Meeting with our President
My Meeting with our President
fiction
edward w pritchard
see An anti war sentiment for President Obama-for background January blog
I got shy at my meeting with our President and let him do the talking.
We were at the old Wal Mart on Arlington in Akron, and we had 8 minutes and twenty seconds together. Jo, the arranger/bodyguard, one of four body guards with us, was relentless when it came to watching the seconds in Our President's schedule. The Wal Mart was not a super store, or a mega store like they probably have down in the DC area where all the Country's money ends up, but the old Akron Wal Mart is comfortable and a very modern iconic American institution and a good place for our brief meeting.
Something I wrote had came to our President's attention.[ see Wat Tyler stay on your horse, An anti war sentiment for President Obama with all due respect, Jesus the unseen guest-January blog]. After a brief fury of phone calls I was sitting in the cafe at Wal Mart and I was behaving shyly.
Mr. President, you don't have to call him that, broke the ice, he is a good conversationalist, naturally. We talked about our children. Two Father's, different situations, lives a million miles apart, ancient common ground.
He asked me about baseball. How did he know I was a long suffering fan of the Cleveland Indians? His research staff I guess, or he likes baseball and knows that anyone from the top half of Ohio is a long suffering Indians fan. Actually what he asked me was insightful and provocative. Seriously, I doubt if he reads what I write so some one must have briefed him [see the piano comes to America part 8 for author's views on American Indians]. President Obama asked me if I was uncomfortable with the name Cleveland Indians, that is if it was derogatory. I explained that to me all Americans are part American Indian spiritually, part of our good part, and each must decide for himself on such conflicts between commerce and spiritual matters.
Your not allowed to write some things after you talk to the President for 31 days. Jo, the arranger has you sign a disclaimer and agreement, 24 pages, 5 copies, I already lost my copy so hopefully if I give an example it won't compromise international relations. You can't talk in detail about oranges if you had lunch with the President. Oranges are very dependent on the upcoming weather, and so is Oil, America is co dependent on Oil, and the President's opinion or lack of one on what's happening with oil is forbidden to discuss; Wall Street sympathizers are every where and we must all be careful what we say.
When you are with the President at Wal Mart avoid the magazine section. It's embarrassing to stand with him and see the headlines and the cruel things media say about him. He's just like us, one man trying to do a difficult job. Except his schedule is protected by a warden. It makes me nervous to have Jo, the bodyguard/arranger follow us around. He keeps looking at his blackberry, but I bet it's a stop watch counting backwards from 8 minutes and twenty seconds.
I can't discuss the real reason President Obama wanted to talk me, it's forbidden. It was however, about the Country's education system. I have been substitute teaching. Mr President noticed I do a lot of editorializing in my writing and then try to disguise it as fiction. He wanted to ask me about the standardized testing. I can't talk in this blog but will soon, it will be in disguised as fiction but the author is as transparent as a pretty hippy girl's pink silk shirt in 1968, so you will find my true opinion just read and [click after, love those sponsors].
President Obama is bound by a lot of secrecy and can't say a lot of things. For example[ see retraction and apology same author April blog] did you know he refuses to discuss the sorrowful plight of the American woodchuck? I feel like a friend after spending 8 minutes and 20 seconds with Mr. President and he ended our meeting with, concerning the woodchucks, no comment.
Well my times up, those eight minutes and twenty seconds are now ancient history, the meetings over and I bought Mr. President two kinds of fine cheeses and crackers at Wal Mart for the flight back to DC. If every American got 8 minutes with the President, it would take him 3805 years, of non stop meetings to see them all and if they all bought him two kinds of fine cheeses at Wal Mart it would take him a real long time to eat all that cheese.
fiction
edward w pritchard
see An anti war sentiment for President Obama-for background January blog
I got shy at my meeting with our President and let him do the talking.
We were at the old Wal Mart on Arlington in Akron, and we had 8 minutes and twenty seconds together. Jo, the arranger/bodyguard, one of four body guards with us, was relentless when it came to watching the seconds in Our President's schedule. The Wal Mart was not a super store, or a mega store like they probably have down in the DC area where all the Country's money ends up, but the old Akron Wal Mart is comfortable and a very modern iconic American institution and a good place for our brief meeting.
Something I wrote had came to our President's attention.[ see Wat Tyler stay on your horse, An anti war sentiment for President Obama with all due respect, Jesus the unseen guest-January blog]. After a brief fury of phone calls I was sitting in the cafe at Wal Mart and I was behaving shyly.
Mr. President, you don't have to call him that, broke the ice, he is a good conversationalist, naturally. We talked about our children. Two Father's, different situations, lives a million miles apart, ancient common ground.
He asked me about baseball. How did he know I was a long suffering fan of the Cleveland Indians? His research staff I guess, or he likes baseball and knows that anyone from the top half of Ohio is a long suffering Indians fan. Actually what he asked me was insightful and provocative. Seriously, I doubt if he reads what I write so some one must have briefed him [see the piano comes to America part 8 for author's views on American Indians]. President Obama asked me if I was uncomfortable with the name Cleveland Indians, that is if it was derogatory. I explained that to me all Americans are part American Indian spiritually, part of our good part, and each must decide for himself on such conflicts between commerce and spiritual matters.
Your not allowed to write some things after you talk to the President for 31 days. Jo, the arranger has you sign a disclaimer and agreement, 24 pages, 5 copies, I already lost my copy so hopefully if I give an example it won't compromise international relations. You can't talk in detail about oranges if you had lunch with the President. Oranges are very dependent on the upcoming weather, and so is Oil, America is co dependent on Oil, and the President's opinion or lack of one on what's happening with oil is forbidden to discuss; Wall Street sympathizers are every where and we must all be careful what we say.
When you are with the President at Wal Mart avoid the magazine section. It's embarrassing to stand with him and see the headlines and the cruel things media say about him. He's just like us, one man trying to do a difficult job. Except his schedule is protected by a warden. It makes me nervous to have Jo, the bodyguard/arranger follow us around. He keeps looking at his blackberry, but I bet it's a stop watch counting backwards from 8 minutes and twenty seconds.
I can't discuss the real reason President Obama wanted to talk me, it's forbidden. It was however, about the Country's education system. I have been substitute teaching. Mr President noticed I do a lot of editorializing in my writing and then try to disguise it as fiction. He wanted to ask me about the standardized testing. I can't talk in this blog but will soon, it will be in disguised as fiction but the author is as transparent as a pretty hippy girl's pink silk shirt in 1968, so you will find my true opinion just read and [click after, love those sponsors].
President Obama is bound by a lot of secrecy and can't say a lot of things. For example[ see retraction and apology same author April blog] did you know he refuses to discuss the sorrowful plight of the American woodchuck? I feel like a friend after spending 8 minutes and 20 seconds with Mr. President and he ended our meeting with, concerning the woodchucks, no comment.
Well my times up, those eight minutes and twenty seconds are now ancient history, the meetings over and I bought Mr. President two kinds of fine cheeses and crackers at Wal Mart for the flight back to DC. If every American got 8 minutes with the President, it would take him 3805 years, of non stop meetings to see them all and if they all bought him two kinds of fine cheeses at Wal Mart it would take him a real long time to eat all that cheese.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
reluctantly very reluctantly
reluctantly very reluctantly
fiction
edward w pritchard
Reluctantly very reluctantly Mr. Simmons accepted the asphalt job over at the church. The church was disbanding and would soon join with a larger congregation. The church was being sold to a used car dealer who would open in 45 days. The church had agreed to include the paving of the lot in the sale without consulting Mr. Simmons, church member and asphalt expert, and the job was a money loser. Reluctantly Mr. Simmons the asphalt contractor allowed his minister Pastor Thomas to convince him to do the job at cost.
Eighty two members of the small congregation showed up on the appropriate day of the paving. All wanted to help. The used car dealership owner stopped at about ten to check the work in progress. People were everywhere working on smoothing out asphalt, stirring pots of asphalt and of course the usual trucks and supervisors. When the car dealer redid the gigantic lot over by the expressway in the spring he gave the job to Mr. Simmons without competitive bidding. About a dozen of the old congregation have bought cars over at the new lot. The car dealer donates a lot of money to the churches raffles and fund raising schemes.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Reluctantly very reluctantly Mr. Simmons accepted the asphalt job over at the church. The church was disbanding and would soon join with a larger congregation. The church was being sold to a used car dealer who would open in 45 days. The church had agreed to include the paving of the lot in the sale without consulting Mr. Simmons, church member and asphalt expert, and the job was a money loser. Reluctantly Mr. Simmons the asphalt contractor allowed his minister Pastor Thomas to convince him to do the job at cost.
Eighty two members of the small congregation showed up on the appropriate day of the paving. All wanted to help. The used car dealership owner stopped at about ten to check the work in progress. People were everywhere working on smoothing out asphalt, stirring pots of asphalt and of course the usual trucks and supervisors. When the car dealer redid the gigantic lot over by the expressway in the spring he gave the job to Mr. Simmons without competitive bidding. About a dozen of the old congregation have bought cars over at the new lot. The car dealer donates a lot of money to the churches raffles and fund raising schemes.
end
a successs in life
a success in life
fiction
edward w pritchard
Tenuw was a bad student in high school and dropped out in the eleventh grade. Facing arrest he entered the military in a plea bargain to escape jail. Returning from the service he married and was unable to find meaningful employment. He became a part time janitor for the school system, a job he liked.
Tenuw's wife liked him to take her to dinner at a good but inexpensive restaurant every Saturday night. They left the kids with the baby sitter and enjoyed a long quiet meal. One night while sitting in an Italian restaurant waiting for his ravioli Tenuw was glancing out the front door of the restaurant as his wife talked to him. He noticed the plastic trash can/ash tray was being blown about by a mild wind.
Tenuw invented and marketed the "cement" trash can for use in front of public places where smokers might stand. The can was fireproof and nearly indestructible. Best it had a place on each side for advertisements. Often the ads were for cigarettes or other such things. In time Tenuw was able to quit the janitor job and live on the royalties of his invention.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Tenuw was a bad student in high school and dropped out in the eleventh grade. Facing arrest he entered the military in a plea bargain to escape jail. Returning from the service he married and was unable to find meaningful employment. He became a part time janitor for the school system, a job he liked.
Tenuw's wife liked him to take her to dinner at a good but inexpensive restaurant every Saturday night. They left the kids with the baby sitter and enjoyed a long quiet meal. One night while sitting in an Italian restaurant waiting for his ravioli Tenuw was glancing out the front door of the restaurant as his wife talked to him. He noticed the plastic trash can/ash tray was being blown about by a mild wind.
Tenuw invented and marketed the "cement" trash can for use in front of public places where smokers might stand. The can was fireproof and nearly indestructible. Best it had a place on each side for advertisements. Often the ads were for cigarettes or other such things. In time Tenuw was able to quit the janitor job and live on the royalties of his invention.
end
retraction and apology
retraction and apology
fiction
edward w pritchard
see do over part 2
Author sincerely and contritely apologizes to the members of the New York headquartered international society for the protection of the image and interests of woodchucks.
Any implication intended and or implied that anyone should, could or would contemplate shooting a woodchuck was not intended. See do over part 2 paragraph two.
Author is now knowledgeable in the plight of the woodchuck and will volontarily take steps to promote a positive image of this fine animal.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
see do over part 2
Author sincerely and contritely apologizes to the members of the New York headquartered international society for the protection of the image and interests of woodchucks.
Any implication intended and or implied that anyone should, could or would contemplate shooting a woodchuck was not intended. See do over part 2 paragraph two.
Author is now knowledgeable in the plight of the woodchuck and will volontarily take steps to promote a positive image of this fine animal.
end
your kids aren't you
your kids aren't you
fiction
edward w pritchard
It takes you twenty or thirty years to learn your kids aren't you. They look a little like you and they remind you of your partner sometimes but they confound and confuse you and you don't understand them just like your partner does sometimes and so it's understandable that your kids aren't you.
It's still hard to but out. Don't say things but be there when needed and then vanish. It's fine to like your grandchildren. Have your own life but pick up the phone quickly and don't let their calls go to voice mail. Try to keep a scheduled time to see them.
Most important don't get co dependent when there's bad trouble and don't try to love them too much but keep in touch. It's ok to ask them fishing if they like to fish. Mexican food is fine unless they don't like spicy meals then let them pick another restaurant. Don't talk to much at the restaurant about when they were little children.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
It takes you twenty or thirty years to learn your kids aren't you. They look a little like you and they remind you of your partner sometimes but they confound and confuse you and you don't understand them just like your partner does sometimes and so it's understandable that your kids aren't you.
It's still hard to but out. Don't say things but be there when needed and then vanish. It's fine to like your grandchildren. Have your own life but pick up the phone quickly and don't let their calls go to voice mail. Try to keep a scheduled time to see them.
Most important don't get co dependent when there's bad trouble and don't try to love them too much but keep in touch. It's ok to ask them fishing if they like to fish. Mexican food is fine unless they don't like spicy meals then let them pick another restaurant. Don't talk to much at the restaurant about when they were little children.
end
meteor shower
meteor shower
fiction
edward w pritchard
The kids in the neighborhood often joked about Mr. Dewitt who dragged a lawn chair into the middle of the back yard and then stayed up all night watching for meteors. He took a quart of beer out there and would watch until a little drunk he dozed off until at about 4AM the cold drove him into his house. Sometimes he would sleep through the morning cold and they would see him on their way to school and joke about it up past the second corner. Not a dignified thing for a 60 year old man to do.
Mr. Dewitt sat in the backyard and thought about the two girls. He worked at the hotel when he was nineteen and he rushed out near the overhang near the front door about 11PM to get someone to move the car. It was an expensive car but he rushed just the same and do his duties planning on yelling a little to clear the entrance to the hotel that he was in charge of for the next 8 hours. The two girls leaning on the car were very pretty, too pretty to pick a favorite. One thing lead to another and the two bored 18 year co-eds ended sleeping in lawn chairs out by the hotel pool.
Mr. Dewitt, as the young man, took out a blanket to the girls and the three of them sat in one lawn chair and watched meteors. Just watched meteors but all three slept a while together even Mr. Dewitt who was supposed to be watching the desk at the hotel even at 3:45AM. About five thirty they went into the lobby of the hotel and he used his key to the restaurant and found them a little something for breakfast.
After watching meteors all night Mr. Dewitt hears the children going to school even over the old music on his MP-3 player as he wakes up in the middle of his backyard a little hung over from watching meteors and stiff and cold in the damp morning air.
End
fiction
edward w pritchard
The kids in the neighborhood often joked about Mr. Dewitt who dragged a lawn chair into the middle of the back yard and then stayed up all night watching for meteors. He took a quart of beer out there and would watch until a little drunk he dozed off until at about 4AM the cold drove him into his house. Sometimes he would sleep through the morning cold and they would see him on their way to school and joke about it up past the second corner. Not a dignified thing for a 60 year old man to do.
Mr. Dewitt sat in the backyard and thought about the two girls. He worked at the hotel when he was nineteen and he rushed out near the overhang near the front door about 11PM to get someone to move the car. It was an expensive car but he rushed just the same and do his duties planning on yelling a little to clear the entrance to the hotel that he was in charge of for the next 8 hours. The two girls leaning on the car were very pretty, too pretty to pick a favorite. One thing lead to another and the two bored 18 year co-eds ended sleeping in lawn chairs out by the hotel pool.
Mr. Dewitt, as the young man, took out a blanket to the girls and the three of them sat in one lawn chair and watched meteors. Just watched meteors but all three slept a while together even Mr. Dewitt who was supposed to be watching the desk at the hotel even at 3:45AM. About five thirty they went into the lobby of the hotel and he used his key to the restaurant and found them a little something for breakfast.
After watching meteors all night Mr. Dewitt hears the children going to school even over the old music on his MP-3 player as he wakes up in the middle of his backyard a little hung over from watching meteors and stiff and cold in the damp morning air.
End
desperately seeking a way out of the cavern
desperately seeking a way out of the cavern
fiction
edward w pritchard
Creative writer desperately seeking a way out of the cavern. Fan of the Beatles, daily writes stories on myriad topics. Quality questionable, intentions sincere, technique needs tweaking. No adoring fans or screaming females in cavern but stuck just the same. Straight man seeks business partner possibly Brian Epstein or George Martin. Portfolio available for review on blog. Previous rejections from publishing community but unfazed. Like the four lads needs haircut and makeover. Looks fading, intellect steady, wit verbose, doesn't smile much, good heart for now. Chasing earlier dream of writing career. Never been to Hamburg and works very much alone.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Creative writer desperately seeking a way out of the cavern. Fan of the Beatles, daily writes stories on myriad topics. Quality questionable, intentions sincere, technique needs tweaking. No adoring fans or screaming females in cavern but stuck just the same. Straight man seeks business partner possibly Brian Epstein or George Martin. Portfolio available for review on blog. Previous rejections from publishing community but unfazed. Like the four lads needs haircut and makeover. Looks fading, intellect steady, wit verbose, doesn't smile much, good heart for now. Chasing earlier dream of writing career. Never been to Hamburg and works very much alone.
end
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Do Over- part 3
Do Over- part 3
fiction
edward w pritchard
Ciano waited in the darkness for the next move from the boys in the hall of the apartment complex. It was section 8 subsidized housing. Ciano did not want to shoot. Mrs. Ryan down the hall had fired a gun to scare off teenagers pounding on her door in the middle of the night and had to pay four hundred to re do the door. She complained about the door not being worth that much and they cut it to $175. net cost.
After about ten minutes Ciano put the gun away and started to plan what she would do with her son, Jake after he got back from visitation at his Father's house tomorrow afternoon about two.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Ciano waited in the darkness for the next move from the boys in the hall of the apartment complex. It was section 8 subsidized housing. Ciano did not want to shoot. Mrs. Ryan down the hall had fired a gun to scare off teenagers pounding on her door in the middle of the night and had to pay four hundred to re do the door. She complained about the door not being worth that much and they cut it to $175. net cost.
After about ten minutes Ciano put the gun away and started to plan what she would do with her son, Jake after he got back from visitation at his Father's house tomorrow afternoon about two.
end
Do over part 2
Do Over -part 2
fiction
edward w pritchard
There's more to truck driving than driving from here to there and back. You have to keep the log and handwriting is important. The PUCO reviews the log and there are fines and the owner of the trucking company doesn't like that. I got to write the logs on the run to Montana because I have a lot better handwriting than Jake. Jake is my Grandfather, the truck driver. I am Ciana and I have been sick and can't go to school for 10 days. I am just getting over a contagious disease and can't be left home alone, at 11 years old. I am going on the truck with Jake, that's what I have to call him when we are on a run, this time to Montana. He always calls me Chene [ long e, long e] even at home.
Time is critical on the run. You log it and you don't burn it or waste it. Even though we can't burn time Jake wanted me to see the woodchuck's and it was interesting. They live in groups like humans and the place we went in Montana has about 400 of them in one large community. Jake says you can learn a lot about human behavior by watching them. He stops by to see the woodchucks now and then when he's out this way. He has been driving a truck for 48 years so I guess he has stopped here a lot.
Meals are the best time. Everyone knows Jake at the restaurants and truck stops and the drivers and even the waitress call me pretty girl, in a nice way. If anyone gets too personal Jake stops them. Jake is nice to me but he gets mad easy sometimes if he is threaten. He says he has to be that way when he is alone on the truck, which is most of the time. I always can order any thing I want and as much as I want. You have to be careful, not ordering too much because the waitresses make sure the drivers get a lot of food because they tip well. If you are an 11 year old girl you are special on the trips and you get even more food. Jake gives me money each day for my pay for keeping the log but I am expected to pay my own tips.
We sleep in the truck. It has plenty of room for two behind where we drive in a little box like enclosure. I call it a cave and Jake doesn't like that but he doesn't get mad and sometimes he calls himself a cave dweller after I slip and call the sleeping area a cave. Jake misses Grandma Denise. She used to travel with him a lot before she got cancer and died in just three months. Jake still drives but Mom says it's not the same for him.
I get to sleep in the back of the sleeping area up by the skylight. I open the skylight and watch the stars and moon. I can hear the animals all night and the birds wake me about by 4AM. I am never tired even though I am supposed to be sick and run down. Being on the truck with Jake is revitalizing for me.
Jake always walks completely around the truck before he gets into bed. He doesn't sleep well when I am with him. I know he worries about me when we are far out away from a truck stop and the other trucks when we sleep. Jake keeps a gun under his pillow and in two years when I am thirteen and a teenager he is going to teach me how to use it. Jake says you have to know how to use it for safety when you are out on the road alone.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
There's more to truck driving than driving from here to there and back. You have to keep the log and handwriting is important. The PUCO reviews the log and there are fines and the owner of the trucking company doesn't like that. I got to write the logs on the run to Montana because I have a lot better handwriting than Jake. Jake is my Grandfather, the truck driver. I am Ciana and I have been sick and can't go to school for 10 days. I am just getting over a contagious disease and can't be left home alone, at 11 years old. I am going on the truck with Jake, that's what I have to call him when we are on a run, this time to Montana. He always calls me Chene [ long e, long e] even at home.
Time is critical on the run. You log it and you don't burn it or waste it. Even though we can't burn time Jake wanted me to see the woodchuck's and it was interesting. They live in groups like humans and the place we went in Montana has about 400 of them in one large community. Jake says you can learn a lot about human behavior by watching them. He stops by to see the woodchucks now and then when he's out this way. He has been driving a truck for 48 years so I guess he has stopped here a lot.
Meals are the best time. Everyone knows Jake at the restaurants and truck stops and the drivers and even the waitress call me pretty girl, in a nice way. If anyone gets too personal Jake stops them. Jake is nice to me but he gets mad easy sometimes if he is threaten. He says he has to be that way when he is alone on the truck, which is most of the time. I always can order any thing I want and as much as I want. You have to be careful, not ordering too much because the waitresses make sure the drivers get a lot of food because they tip well. If you are an 11 year old girl you are special on the trips and you get even more food. Jake gives me money each day for my pay for keeping the log but I am expected to pay my own tips.
We sleep in the truck. It has plenty of room for two behind where we drive in a little box like enclosure. I call it a cave and Jake doesn't like that but he doesn't get mad and sometimes he calls himself a cave dweller after I slip and call the sleeping area a cave. Jake misses Grandma Denise. She used to travel with him a lot before she got cancer and died in just three months. Jake still drives but Mom says it's not the same for him.
I get to sleep in the back of the sleeping area up by the skylight. I open the skylight and watch the stars and moon. I can hear the animals all night and the birds wake me about by 4AM. I am never tired even though I am supposed to be sick and run down. Being on the truck with Jake is revitalizing for me.
Jake always walks completely around the truck before he gets into bed. He doesn't sleep well when I am with him. I know he worries about me when we are far out away from a truck stop and the other trucks when we sleep. Jake keeps a gun under his pillow and in two years when I am thirteen and a teenager he is going to teach me how to use it. Jake says you have to know how to use it for safety when you are out on the road alone.
end
do over
do over
fiction
edward w pritchard
Mulligan, if your miss or mess up a shot in golf just do it again.
Second Act often confounds but can resolve or redo at least in two act plays. Are there two act plays?
Do over to redecorate or in slang to try something again, like a mulligan in golf or getting a second chance with your life.
Ciana sat up in bed and screamed into the hall way "my husband is getting his gun". At least three young sounding men were banging on her apartment door for the third time in the last five minutes, at 2:45 AM. Alone she reached for the loaded gun under the magazine, on the night stand and patiently waited for the boys in the hall to make the next move.
How did she end up like this?
end part 1
fiction
edward w pritchard
Mulligan, if your miss or mess up a shot in golf just do it again.
Second Act often confounds but can resolve or redo at least in two act plays. Are there two act plays?
Do over to redecorate or in slang to try something again, like a mulligan in golf or getting a second chance with your life.
Ciana sat up in bed and screamed into the hall way "my husband is getting his gun". At least three young sounding men were banging on her apartment door for the third time in the last five minutes, at 2:45 AM. Alone she reached for the loaded gun under the magazine, on the night stand and patiently waited for the boys in the hall to make the next move.
How did she end up like this?
end part 1
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
at the rubber bowl still going strong
at the rubber bowl still going strong
fiction
edward w pritchard
One of the ninth grade students students at the junior high in Akron had been preaching at the school and the school system had to stop it or have a battle with the ACLU again. The boy's family objected and in a compromise the boy was allowed by the city to use the old football stadium now vacant, called the Rubber Bowl, a symbol of a bygone area of Akron's glory days to preach in.
The stadium is large, seating 42,000, cold and windy and everything is made of cement.
The student preacher was very excited and someday he will be an excellent evangelist for when he went to preview the site he would be preaching at he told his two friends he was with he would fill the stadium.
The appropriate night came and went and nearly 200 people mostly students showed up. The evangelist did a superb job and it was a remarkable initial foray for him into his chosen calling.
One of the two friends put the sermon the the evangelist gave on U tube. In confusion when students in India saw the name Akron, Ohio in the caption on the u tube video they assumed it was about Akron's favorite son the basketball prodigy [ see the blues singer who couldn't carry a tune and basketball prodigy same author]. Before a retraction was put on the u tube sight nearly 700,000 young people in India watched part of the service and sermon by the young preacher from Akron, Ohio.
Exuberant and unfazed by it all the young evangelist began to make plans to somehow talk to the basketball prodigy and tell him his message.
fiction
edward w pritchard
One of the ninth grade students students at the junior high in Akron had been preaching at the school and the school system had to stop it or have a battle with the ACLU again. The boy's family objected and in a compromise the boy was allowed by the city to use the old football stadium now vacant, called the Rubber Bowl, a symbol of a bygone area of Akron's glory days to preach in.
The stadium is large, seating 42,000, cold and windy and everything is made of cement.
The student preacher was very excited and someday he will be an excellent evangelist for when he went to preview the site he would be preaching at he told his two friends he was with he would fill the stadium.
The appropriate night came and went and nearly 200 people mostly students showed up. The evangelist did a superb job and it was a remarkable initial foray for him into his chosen calling.
One of the two friends put the sermon the the evangelist gave on U tube. In confusion when students in India saw the name Akron, Ohio in the caption on the u tube video they assumed it was about Akron's favorite son the basketball prodigy [ see the blues singer who couldn't carry a tune and basketball prodigy same author]. Before a retraction was put on the u tube sight nearly 700,000 young people in India watched part of the service and sermon by the young preacher from Akron, Ohio.
Exuberant and unfazed by it all the young evangelist began to make plans to somehow talk to the basketball prodigy and tell him his message.
one if by land
one if by land
fiction
edward w pritchard
There's an old firehouse over by the expressway that runs quickly through our hometown of Akron on the way to anywhere else for most of the world. On the firehouse is an old tower on the top for an earlier usage as surveillance station. The expressway is built high above the ground for technical reasons of engineering that no body but that profession understands and it is about level with the tower on the fire station and about 75 feet north of the tower. As the cars race past on the expressway they can see into to the tower which is now vacant.
Below, the tower, in the old fire station is now a kidney dialysis center. It was a credit union but a few years ago the local hospital chain opened a dialysis center.
One fall to publicize the plight of the kidney dialysis users with various forms of cancer the janitor of the building began to put a light up in the window for two nights when an area resident had been in remission for 180 days or more from cancer in the local hospital system. The Doctors in the hospital system who saw a lot of bad stuff on a daily basis got behind the program and put in a large chunk of money to promote the program. A publicist was hired and it was a very capable young woman from the University graduate school and she got an amazing amount of national TV exposure for the program.
One night a truck driver was driving down the road quickly through our town and saw the light in the window. It was a rare event and he was joyous to see it for he had heard about it on the radio talk program he listened to. Other than hearing things about the local basketball prodigy, akron's favorite son, it was the only thing he remembered hearing about Akron lately, and since he had family in the area, it made him feel good to see the light. Driving by sitting up high in the truck he distinctly saw two lights in the window.
Driving back through Akron, the next night from over by New York City, he distinctly saw the second light. As he drove west away from the tower in Akron Ohio he decided to call his talk radio station about it. He had lots of time, he would be driving all night and it took him a while to get through but he finally got to talk to the talk show host. He told the host about the two lights.
The talk show host knew the inside scoop. The janitor at the dialysis center always stayed up in the tower for a while after he lit the candle up there and smoked a cigar if a child was in remission.
The truck driver and the talk show host talked for a while about our little town and then the driver continued on toward Chicago.
fiction
edward w pritchard
There's an old firehouse over by the expressway that runs quickly through our hometown of Akron on the way to anywhere else for most of the world. On the firehouse is an old tower on the top for an earlier usage as surveillance station. The expressway is built high above the ground for technical reasons of engineering that no body but that profession understands and it is about level with the tower on the fire station and about 75 feet north of the tower. As the cars race past on the expressway they can see into to the tower which is now vacant.
Below, the tower, in the old fire station is now a kidney dialysis center. It was a credit union but a few years ago the local hospital chain opened a dialysis center.
One fall to publicize the plight of the kidney dialysis users with various forms of cancer the janitor of the building began to put a light up in the window for two nights when an area resident had been in remission for 180 days or more from cancer in the local hospital system. The Doctors in the hospital system who saw a lot of bad stuff on a daily basis got behind the program and put in a large chunk of money to promote the program. A publicist was hired and it was a very capable young woman from the University graduate school and she got an amazing amount of national TV exposure for the program.
One night a truck driver was driving down the road quickly through our town and saw the light in the window. It was a rare event and he was joyous to see it for he had heard about it on the radio talk program he listened to. Other than hearing things about the local basketball prodigy, akron's favorite son, it was the only thing he remembered hearing about Akron lately, and since he had family in the area, it made him feel good to see the light. Driving by sitting up high in the truck he distinctly saw two lights in the window.
Driving back through Akron, the next night from over by New York City, he distinctly saw the second light. As he drove west away from the tower in Akron Ohio he decided to call his talk radio station about it. He had lots of time, he would be driving all night and it took him a while to get through but he finally got to talk to the talk show host. He told the host about the two lights.
The talk show host knew the inside scoop. The janitor at the dialysis center always stayed up in the tower for a while after he lit the candle up there and smoked a cigar if a child was in remission.
The truck driver and the talk show host talked for a while about our little town and then the driver continued on toward Chicago.
Each one teach one
Each one teach one
fiction
edward w pritchard
see Standardized testing for students
Down in South America, in one of the Country's about a seventy years ago, illiteracy was high and they decided to try each one teach one a slogan from the President's offices, but an ancient form of self help maybe from Africa originally.
The grandfather was helping the little grand daughter diligently and in a few weeks she had surpassed him in reading. The grandfather was sad and a little embarrassed by this and expressed it to the grand daughter. The girl began each day to help the Grand Father so he could later help others as he had her. In time they would read when together and he would tell her about the children he was helping and she would tell him about the various people she was helping to learn to read or learn to read better. She always credited the grand father for helping her to learn to read.
end
This is the 200th story. If you like the stories tell others about the blog.
thank you
ed
fiction
edward w pritchard
see Standardized testing for students
Down in South America, in one of the Country's about a seventy years ago, illiteracy was high and they decided to try each one teach one a slogan from the President's offices, but an ancient form of self help maybe from Africa originally.
The grandfather was helping the little grand daughter diligently and in a few weeks she had surpassed him in reading. The grandfather was sad and a little embarrassed by this and expressed it to the grand daughter. The girl began each day to help the Grand Father so he could later help others as he had her. In time they would read when together and he would tell her about the children he was helping and she would tell him about the various people she was helping to learn to read or learn to read better. She always credited the grand father for helping her to learn to read.
end
This is the 200th story. If you like the stories tell others about the blog.
thank you
ed
marvin the priest
marvin the priest
fiction
edward w pritchard
Like most mangers Father Jon had a lot of trouble with one worker and for him it was Marvin. They were priests in a very early form of the Catholic religion and they had a very ritualized way to do things. Marvin was good at that for he was very pious and knew the procedures and policies well. He spoke the original ancient language and was knowledgeable and believable.
Marvin wasn't good at confession, greeting the flock or most inter personal things.
Some times the congregation was less than kind and loving and they complained about something Marvin had not said or how he was inappropriate and sometimes they said he was weird.
Father Jon was very capable and Saintlike for a man a rare combination. He was patient with Father Marvin and as was permitted in the liturgy Father Jon allowed Father Marvin to hand him things, assist with Eucharist and perform some of the songs and readings that were sacred parts of the service. Father Marvin did very well at these tasks. In time working together they became a very good team and when the bishop came in he was very happy.
About five years after Father Jon and Father Marvin began to work together, in confession, which they heard for each other; Father Jon admitted he had been questioning his faith.
Father Marvin told Father Jon in the sacred confessional to take the next two Sunday's off and Father Marvin would handle the services.
The next day Father Jon arrived for work early and gave Father Marvin a large jar of almonds, Father Marvin's favorite. Father Jon had decided to return to his duties and wanted to thank Father Marvin.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Like most mangers Father Jon had a lot of trouble with one worker and for him it was Marvin. They were priests in a very early form of the Catholic religion and they had a very ritualized way to do things. Marvin was good at that for he was very pious and knew the procedures and policies well. He spoke the original ancient language and was knowledgeable and believable.
Marvin wasn't good at confession, greeting the flock or most inter personal things.
Some times the congregation was less than kind and loving and they complained about something Marvin had not said or how he was inappropriate and sometimes they said he was weird.
Father Jon was very capable and Saintlike for a man a rare combination. He was patient with Father Marvin and as was permitted in the liturgy Father Jon allowed Father Marvin to hand him things, assist with Eucharist and perform some of the songs and readings that were sacred parts of the service. Father Marvin did very well at these tasks. In time working together they became a very good team and when the bishop came in he was very happy.
About five years after Father Jon and Father Marvin began to work together, in confession, which they heard for each other; Father Jon admitted he had been questioning his faith.
Father Marvin told Father Jon in the sacred confessional to take the next two Sunday's off and Father Marvin would handle the services.
The next day Father Jon arrived for work early and gave Father Marvin a large jar of almonds, Father Marvin's favorite. Father Jon had decided to return to his duties and wanted to thank Father Marvin.
the second house over there in Turkey
the second house over there in Turkey
fiction
edward w pritchard
It was not usual for families in Istanbul to have a second house outside of the city that was always in progress, building wise. As money was available materials would be bought and the extended family would go out to the house after work or dinner and all work on it. Most families if they drew from a large enough relative base didn't have to hire much of the work done and using sweat equity created a lot of value for the family over time. It was an ancient custom, born of instability and it hedged the family fortune, encouraged community and communications between generations and was a forced savings device.
In our family sometimes the generations argued about the project. This wasn't supposed to happen for we were supposed to respect the elders. Still the younger people sometimes had better heads for business having been to University or been in the army and traveled around a lot and saw different things.
We had been working on our second house for about ten years and there was an earth quake and it destroyed most of the second property. Like everywhere the insurance companies think of everything and there is no insurance on the property because it is in progress and they don't insure that because of excessive risk to them. We knew that collectively as a family but a lot of us assumed different.
We have decided to start another second property in a different area this time.
fiction
edward w pritchard
It was not usual for families in Istanbul to have a second house outside of the city that was always in progress, building wise. As money was available materials would be bought and the extended family would go out to the house after work or dinner and all work on it. Most families if they drew from a large enough relative base didn't have to hire much of the work done and using sweat equity created a lot of value for the family over time. It was an ancient custom, born of instability and it hedged the family fortune, encouraged community and communications between generations and was a forced savings device.
In our family sometimes the generations argued about the project. This wasn't supposed to happen for we were supposed to respect the elders. Still the younger people sometimes had better heads for business having been to University or been in the army and traveled around a lot and saw different things.
We had been working on our second house for about ten years and there was an earth quake and it destroyed most of the second property. Like everywhere the insurance companies think of everything and there is no insurance on the property because it is in progress and they don't insure that because of excessive risk to them. We knew that collectively as a family but a lot of us assumed different.
We have decided to start another second property in a different area this time.
in the tent
in the tent
fiction'
edward w pritchard
World War Two was awful and being in the army was bad. Every day your friends die, not in any pattern just here and there, now and then. Some just get wounded and that's worse.
Eventually you decide not to have friends but some other soldiers decided to make their philosophy to cope that they need friends so you still know people, some of whom are going to die or be wounded, maybe you.
The foods not much even for us poor people but you enjoy it sometimes, and then its not that bad.
Nature is good and you get to travel but there's always the war. Home is gone, no longer real or possible.
The only good thing is when you are in your own tent. After supper. Your fellow soldiers are on guard and they will be in their tents in a while and we all work very hard to make it so when one is in their tent they are safe, as safe as one can be in the army.
When we get somewhere and I must put up my tent I always follow the same procedure. I take lighter fluid and burn off the grass, to kill and drive away all inspects. I find the best spot I can, not wet or sloping and away from trees and with some kind of a view for coming and going. Then I put down something for a ground cloth, if available. Then I have my tent face the appropriate direction depending on too many factors to list. When it's all ready I put my stuff in there including my loaded rifle, I don't want to die without being ready. I also am duty bound I think to help my fellow soldiers, even ones I don't know.
Then at last I get in my tent, bravely turn my eyes from the opening and gradually drop off to sleep for about 35 minutes usually. I always wake up worrying and anxious or aggressive according to what's appropriate based on what might happen next. However, those 35 minutes are the best part about being in the army.
fiction'
edward w pritchard
World War Two was awful and being in the army was bad. Every day your friends die, not in any pattern just here and there, now and then. Some just get wounded and that's worse.
Eventually you decide not to have friends but some other soldiers decided to make their philosophy to cope that they need friends so you still know people, some of whom are going to die or be wounded, maybe you.
The foods not much even for us poor people but you enjoy it sometimes, and then its not that bad.
Nature is good and you get to travel but there's always the war. Home is gone, no longer real or possible.
The only good thing is when you are in your own tent. After supper. Your fellow soldiers are on guard and they will be in their tents in a while and we all work very hard to make it so when one is in their tent they are safe, as safe as one can be in the army.
When we get somewhere and I must put up my tent I always follow the same procedure. I take lighter fluid and burn off the grass, to kill and drive away all inspects. I find the best spot I can, not wet or sloping and away from trees and with some kind of a view for coming and going. Then I put down something for a ground cloth, if available. Then I have my tent face the appropriate direction depending on too many factors to list. When it's all ready I put my stuff in there including my loaded rifle, I don't want to die without being ready. I also am duty bound I think to help my fellow soldiers, even ones I don't know.
Then at last I get in my tent, bravely turn my eyes from the opening and gradually drop off to sleep for about 35 minutes usually. I always wake up worrying and anxious or aggressive according to what's appropriate based on what might happen next. However, those 35 minutes are the best part about being in the army.
standardized testing for students
standardized testing for students
fiction
edward w pritchard
The suburban school system borrowed an executive from over at the aerospace company to act as a consultant and suggest reasons why the students were doing poorly on the standardized tests. The consultant had no axe to grind, was an honest man and was practical and astute. He wrote a short report:
The 8th grade students as a group do poorly on the standardized tests. There is much argument and disagreement why depending on the position of those involved. Here's what I found out:
1. The administration is organized and excellent. I interviewed over twenty substitute teachers who work in four or five districts and they praise the attitude and habits and procedures of the administration of the school. The substitute teachers are considered knowledgeable and the most objective source for this evaluation of the administration. Most do not know the administration and are not economically dependent on them, and would have a tendency to criticize more than praise based on the relationship[ management -non union temporary employee] between the parties.
2 Using local Real estate agents as a source from several districts the students are judged on a whole to be from a privileged area with above average economic advantages. It is assumed randomness would distribute the students and households in a normal way based on the sample size of 450 student households and that the Real estate agents would be astute enough to compensate their judgment. The Real estate agents are practical and skeptical people at times and are considered objective.
3. Teachers are considered good by this consultant based on observation and objective and subjective measures by this consultant. Facilities, equipment, building supplies and technology is above average, nationally and much above average locally.
4 School environment is enjoyable and pleasant according to many talked to from various sources including students who would be expected based on anecdotal evidence to dislike 8th grade and criticize the immediate environment. Subjectively this consultant finds the building and school a pleasant place to be as a visitor. Objectively as possible to be measured the school environment is above average in all ways including no policeman needed on grounds and no security which is unusual.
5 Substitute teachers interviewed enjoy working here even though they make less, something, they don't like. Still, they praise the school system, students and permanent teachers, and the environment and facilities. Other than standardized test scores which are low the school rates high on every other indicator of successful administration of running a school.
Conclusions:
Consultant believes primary cause of low student scores as a group is low reading ability by a large percentage of students causing trouble on all standardized testing. Of course some students pass tests and read well. That is a correlation that can be developed later.
Recommendation:
If passing the standardized tests is the measurement that is important to achieve then more time should be spent daily on developing skills to pass standardized tests. Reading and test taking practice daily is advised. Obtain old tests and have each teacher use them daily as a study guide. Other motivation and punishments to teachers, students and administration could be developed over time.
see each one teach one blog 200-april
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
The suburban school system borrowed an executive from over at the aerospace company to act as a consultant and suggest reasons why the students were doing poorly on the standardized tests. The consultant had no axe to grind, was an honest man and was practical and astute. He wrote a short report:
The 8th grade students as a group do poorly on the standardized tests. There is much argument and disagreement why depending on the position of those involved. Here's what I found out:
1. The administration is organized and excellent. I interviewed over twenty substitute teachers who work in four or five districts and they praise the attitude and habits and procedures of the administration of the school. The substitute teachers are considered knowledgeable and the most objective source for this evaluation of the administration. Most do not know the administration and are not economically dependent on them, and would have a tendency to criticize more than praise based on the relationship[ management -non union temporary employee] between the parties.
2 Using local Real estate agents as a source from several districts the students are judged on a whole to be from a privileged area with above average economic advantages. It is assumed randomness would distribute the students and households in a normal way based on the sample size of 450 student households and that the Real estate agents would be astute enough to compensate their judgment. The Real estate agents are practical and skeptical people at times and are considered objective.
3. Teachers are considered good by this consultant based on observation and objective and subjective measures by this consultant. Facilities, equipment, building supplies and technology is above average, nationally and much above average locally.
4 School environment is enjoyable and pleasant according to many talked to from various sources including students who would be expected based on anecdotal evidence to dislike 8th grade and criticize the immediate environment. Subjectively this consultant finds the building and school a pleasant place to be as a visitor. Objectively as possible to be measured the school environment is above average in all ways including no policeman needed on grounds and no security which is unusual.
5 Substitute teachers interviewed enjoy working here even though they make less, something, they don't like. Still, they praise the school system, students and permanent teachers, and the environment and facilities. Other than standardized test scores which are low the school rates high on every other indicator of successful administration of running a school.
Conclusions:
Consultant believes primary cause of low student scores as a group is low reading ability by a large percentage of students causing trouble on all standardized testing. Of course some students pass tests and read well. That is a correlation that can be developed later.
Recommendation:
If passing the standardized tests is the measurement that is important to achieve then more time should be spent daily on developing skills to pass standardized tests. Reading and test taking practice daily is advised. Obtain old tests and have each teacher use them daily as a study guide. Other motivation and punishments to teachers, students and administration could be developed over time.
see each one teach one blog 200-april
end
Robert was once an atheist
Robert was once an atheist
fiction
edward w pritchard
Once there was a wise atheist but he decide after thinking about it at length and came to believe in God.
Robert was a newly elected politician and he was going through a plethora of emotional changes as he looked at and experienced how the world worked.
Robert had a young daughter who he loved more than anything and he wanted and needed to protect her and keep her innocence.
Robert was becoming older and he no longer saw the world as good or benevolent or bad and evil.
Robert read and thought and went out into nature and talked to his wife and talked to his brother and then listened to the radio and was still confused.
Robert thought rationally and logically and decided that people who lived before couldn't all be wrong about everything and he decided to find someone he admired and see what they said on the situation.
Robert decided to look into Gandhi who he admired. Gandhi was known throughout the world, even by his enemies, as Mahatma meaning great person venerated for spirituality and high mindedness. Gandhi was also a practicing lawyer for a long time. Robert worked with and knew lawyers and their practical way of looking at things. He didn't know any Mahatma's but it seemed like a good combination, a lawyer with high mindedness and spirituality.
Robert read what Gandhi said about why he believed in God later in life after seeing a lot of the world's vice and suffering.
Gandhi said four things: in relation to God [and Hinduism]
1. everything in the universe is pervaded by God
2. Renounce it and then enjoy it
3 Don't covet anyone's wealth or possessions
4 all rulers must call themselves servants of God [ everything else follows from that]
Robert doesn't feel God in the world, or see God, and it is perfectly reasonable for the world, and universe to exist without God. Logically the existence of God seems unlikely, born of our fears.
Robert had decided to believe in God at this time. Perhaps it is irrelevant what he thinks.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Once there was a wise atheist but he decide after thinking about it at length and came to believe in God.
Robert was a newly elected politician and he was going through a plethora of emotional changes as he looked at and experienced how the world worked.
Robert had a young daughter who he loved more than anything and he wanted and needed to protect her and keep her innocence.
Robert was becoming older and he no longer saw the world as good or benevolent or bad and evil.
Robert read and thought and went out into nature and talked to his wife and talked to his brother and then listened to the radio and was still confused.
Robert thought rationally and logically and decided that people who lived before couldn't all be wrong about everything and he decided to find someone he admired and see what they said on the situation.
Robert decided to look into Gandhi who he admired. Gandhi was known throughout the world, even by his enemies, as Mahatma meaning great person venerated for spirituality and high mindedness. Gandhi was also a practicing lawyer for a long time. Robert worked with and knew lawyers and their practical way of looking at things. He didn't know any Mahatma's but it seemed like a good combination, a lawyer with high mindedness and spirituality.
Robert read what Gandhi said about why he believed in God later in life after seeing a lot of the world's vice and suffering.
Gandhi said four things: in relation to God [and Hinduism]
1. everything in the universe is pervaded by God
2. Renounce it and then enjoy it
3 Don't covet anyone's wealth or possessions
4 all rulers must call themselves servants of God [ everything else follows from that]
Robert doesn't feel God in the world, or see God, and it is perfectly reasonable for the world, and universe to exist without God. Logically the existence of God seems unlikely, born of our fears.
Robert had decided to believe in God at this time. Perhaps it is irrelevant what he thinks.
those bag holders again
those bag holders again
fiction
edward w pritchard
There was a lot criticism and raised eyebrows when the District court of appeals down in Cincinnati Ohio agreed to hear the case. There had been almost nothing significant constitutionally happen between Barberton, Ohio and down to Columbus the State Capital in twenty years. This mattered to the Nationally elected leaders of both parties down in Columbus, and in a show of unity and force both political parties had been pressuring the court to hear a few cases. In appropriations in Washington, DC, how many cases were reviewed in the District Court of appeals mattered financially and this part of Ohio were getting short shifted in federal dollars and pressure was coming from the public on the elected officials and they wanted help from the court.
Over the objection of a few Court members, the district court decided to hear the case nicknamed the bag holders revolt as a constitutional States rights issue for the Ohio courts had approved something an Ohio bank had done and federal regulators objected.
A small Bank south of Barberton, Ohio and North of Columbus had a long history of sound lending and a steady dividend payments. They got new President, a likable fellow, and he had the brainstorm to make a lot more loans to earn more fees and income and eventually gravity sank the portfolio and he was fired. The next new President, the replacement, didn't smile much and no one much liked him, or liked to hear what he had to say; but he said they had to raise capital immediately, before the next bank audit. He proposed a secondary stock offering which would badly dilute everyone one's stock holdings except his. Among other things he was an expert on Bank ratios because he had been a bank examiner for a long time. Reluctantly, very reluctantly the mostly new board of directors agreed.
The stock broker and lawyer came back with the bad news. Because of the situation on wall street, and the excessive scrutiny on honest small banks because of losses in New York, it would cost twenty five per cent of the new composite stock offering value to place the deal. Outrageous screamed the current stock holders and all the old directors. One of the new financial analysts, hired recently at the bank, had a brain storm and suggested a solution.
Instead of selling stock and being subject to all the SEC regulations why not sell something else as a proxy? They decided to sell purple cloth bags to help the environment and be to be used to carry one's groceries for two dollars each. Since the stock was selling for 45 cents a share now it seemed like a good idea. It was suggested to sell one million bags, all purple with the name of the Bank on them. Each current stock holder was asked to buy twenty thousand bags.
The banking regulators balked. This was a scam, a pretense, a John Law deal [early flim flam man]. The regulators said it was an attempt to avoid the regulation, which it of course was. The stock buyers countered their complaints by caring the bags around and using it for various things.
The court down in in Cincinnati is reviewing the case now. They bowed to political pressure and are now hearing the case of the bag holders revolt. The bag holders are united. They feel they have a right to carry the bags if they wish.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
There was a lot criticism and raised eyebrows when the District court of appeals down in Cincinnati Ohio agreed to hear the case. There had been almost nothing significant constitutionally happen between Barberton, Ohio and down to Columbus the State Capital in twenty years. This mattered to the Nationally elected leaders of both parties down in Columbus, and in a show of unity and force both political parties had been pressuring the court to hear a few cases. In appropriations in Washington, DC, how many cases were reviewed in the District Court of appeals mattered financially and this part of Ohio were getting short shifted in federal dollars and pressure was coming from the public on the elected officials and they wanted help from the court.
Over the objection of a few Court members, the district court decided to hear the case nicknamed the bag holders revolt as a constitutional States rights issue for the Ohio courts had approved something an Ohio bank had done and federal regulators objected.
A small Bank south of Barberton, Ohio and North of Columbus had a long history of sound lending and a steady dividend payments. They got new President, a likable fellow, and he had the brainstorm to make a lot more loans to earn more fees and income and eventually gravity sank the portfolio and he was fired. The next new President, the replacement, didn't smile much and no one much liked him, or liked to hear what he had to say; but he said they had to raise capital immediately, before the next bank audit. He proposed a secondary stock offering which would badly dilute everyone one's stock holdings except his. Among other things he was an expert on Bank ratios because he had been a bank examiner for a long time. Reluctantly, very reluctantly the mostly new board of directors agreed.
The stock broker and lawyer came back with the bad news. Because of the situation on wall street, and the excessive scrutiny on honest small banks because of losses in New York, it would cost twenty five per cent of the new composite stock offering value to place the deal. Outrageous screamed the current stock holders and all the old directors. One of the new financial analysts, hired recently at the bank, had a brain storm and suggested a solution.
Instead of selling stock and being subject to all the SEC regulations why not sell something else as a proxy? They decided to sell purple cloth bags to help the environment and be to be used to carry one's groceries for two dollars each. Since the stock was selling for 45 cents a share now it seemed like a good idea. It was suggested to sell one million bags, all purple with the name of the Bank on them. Each current stock holder was asked to buy twenty thousand bags.
The banking regulators balked. This was a scam, a pretense, a John Law deal [early flim flam man]. The regulators said it was an attempt to avoid the regulation, which it of course was. The stock buyers countered their complaints by caring the bags around and using it for various things.
The court down in in Cincinnati is reviewing the case now. They bowed to political pressure and are now hearing the case of the bag holders revolt. The bag holders are united. They feel they have a right to carry the bags if they wish.
end
a change in the winds aloft
a change in the winds aloft
fiction
edward w pritchard
see various Gabby and Beverly stories a gay couple together two years and then Gabby dumped Beverly suddenly. This story preceded the breakup. See the strange case of Dr Melvin to start backward through the stories on Gabby
Gabby was in charge of the rock climbing class because Eric was going to be late. They were climbing at an old two story house without ropes or special equipment. This climb was only for advanced certified climbers. Gabby was excited to lead the group and proud to be qualified to be in charge. She had been doing rock climbing for five years at Kent State University fitness center and worked at it intensely.
The regular highly certified instructor Eric was a perfect physical specimen. Tall and lean, a runner and he did yoga and rock climbing. He was also very attractive but that wasn't significant to Gabby for she had been born gay. However she admired Eric and his drive and intensity inspired her.
There were seven members of the group today including Gabby. Four were young college students, a couple of years younger than Gabby and one was an older man of about forty. Beverly the only other woman, Gabby's friend was late to class. Several college coed's had not come although scheduled. They feared this climb today. Even Eric's good looks could not motivate them to come here today. The reputation of the climb was intimidating them.
Gabby joked easily with the young men as they stretched in commradary. The leader in these situations was not questioned once the climb began and Gabby liked that. These guys liked Gabby. She was capable, intelligent, motivated and they knew her sexual orientation and it made things easier. The older man was nervous about this climb and he followed Gabby's instructions carefully and attentively. He was a department head at the college and Gabby was trying to protect him today.
The house was old and vacant and owned by the University. They had bought a large piece of farm property and reluctantly for now let the climbing group use the house. It was not that tall. Only two and a half stories. The challenge to the climb were the wood slat panels that went up from the ground to the roof ledge. They were put on upside down from a normal slat. There was a half inch recess at the top and then a slick piece of blue wood 8 inches wide until the next recess. The house was maybe 45 feet high. At the roof was a sharp old gutter that couldn't be hung on so the climber just had to go up touch the gutter and go back down. Of the 87 people certified to make the climb in the rock climbing group, each year only a dozen or so did and got their name on the board at the office at the fitness center for successfully climbing the North Ridge. This climbs nickname for being like Mt. Everest.
A few of the young men were anxious to start and Gabby let them go up ten feet or so. Immediately they saw the challenge; it was impossible to hold onto the the half inch slats and they was no room for the toes. Once one started the climb , they couldn't stop. Several of the confident young men slipped heavily to the muddy ground. Before a climb the maintenance department always saturated the climbing area to mitigate injuries.
Gabby was joking with the young men and taking charge helping a few up off the muddy ground when Beverly arrived.
As she walked up Beverly was glad to see Gabby happy. Beverly loved Gabby. Gabby was a loner and it made Beverly smile to see her with her friends. Beverly was in the rock climb group because of Gabby. Beverly was a superb athlete but once she mastered the wall at the gym she didn't need more of this stuff. Beverly did well at the gym in climbing because height mattered and weight was a handicap and Beverly was tall and lithe.
Gabby frowned a little when she saw Beverly. The men changed immediately when she arrived. They knew about Gabby and Beverly but where they treated Beverly like one of the guys no one could keep their eyes off Beverly. She was unaware of it and it always angered Gabby, but on the inside; for she didn't say a lot of things to Beverly or anyone else for Gabby didn't like to share her feelings.
As Beverly stretched the men began to help her with things and the older professor began to protect her. David wanted to give her a boost.
After the warm ups and stretching Gabby went through the rules of the climb. The leader of each climb did this and it was ritualized and unquestioned. Gabby began to joke about my wife is so dumb jokes as she reviewed the standard operating procedures.
She said my wife is so dumb that -----
She made a few dumb jokes as she went through the five minute speal about how to fall, what to do if you can't go on, then gave a motivational ending.
She concluded with my wife is so dumb she doesn't know she has a nice ass and thinks everyone looks at her because of the new yellow dress she bought.
The Professor shot Gabby a judgmental look and Beverly finally realized what was going on.
Beverly didn't enjoy the rest of the climb.
fiction
edward w pritchard
see various Gabby and Beverly stories a gay couple together two years and then Gabby dumped Beverly suddenly. This story preceded the breakup. See the strange case of Dr Melvin to start backward through the stories on Gabby
Gabby was in charge of the rock climbing class because Eric was going to be late. They were climbing at an old two story house without ropes or special equipment. This climb was only for advanced certified climbers. Gabby was excited to lead the group and proud to be qualified to be in charge. She had been doing rock climbing for five years at Kent State University fitness center and worked at it intensely.
The regular highly certified instructor Eric was a perfect physical specimen. Tall and lean, a runner and he did yoga and rock climbing. He was also very attractive but that wasn't significant to Gabby for she had been born gay. However she admired Eric and his drive and intensity inspired her.
There were seven members of the group today including Gabby. Four were young college students, a couple of years younger than Gabby and one was an older man of about forty. Beverly the only other woman, Gabby's friend was late to class. Several college coed's had not come although scheduled. They feared this climb today. Even Eric's good looks could not motivate them to come here today. The reputation of the climb was intimidating them.
Gabby joked easily with the young men as they stretched in commradary. The leader in these situations was not questioned once the climb began and Gabby liked that. These guys liked Gabby. She was capable, intelligent, motivated and they knew her sexual orientation and it made things easier. The older man was nervous about this climb and he followed Gabby's instructions carefully and attentively. He was a department head at the college and Gabby was trying to protect him today.
The house was old and vacant and owned by the University. They had bought a large piece of farm property and reluctantly for now let the climbing group use the house. It was not that tall. Only two and a half stories. The challenge to the climb were the wood slat panels that went up from the ground to the roof ledge. They were put on upside down from a normal slat. There was a half inch recess at the top and then a slick piece of blue wood 8 inches wide until the next recess. The house was maybe 45 feet high. At the roof was a sharp old gutter that couldn't be hung on so the climber just had to go up touch the gutter and go back down. Of the 87 people certified to make the climb in the rock climbing group, each year only a dozen or so did and got their name on the board at the office at the fitness center for successfully climbing the North Ridge. This climbs nickname for being like Mt. Everest.
A few of the young men were anxious to start and Gabby let them go up ten feet or so. Immediately they saw the challenge; it was impossible to hold onto the the half inch slats and they was no room for the toes. Once one started the climb , they couldn't stop. Several of the confident young men slipped heavily to the muddy ground. Before a climb the maintenance department always saturated the climbing area to mitigate injuries.
Gabby was joking with the young men and taking charge helping a few up off the muddy ground when Beverly arrived.
As she walked up Beverly was glad to see Gabby happy. Beverly loved Gabby. Gabby was a loner and it made Beverly smile to see her with her friends. Beverly was in the rock climb group because of Gabby. Beverly was a superb athlete but once she mastered the wall at the gym she didn't need more of this stuff. Beverly did well at the gym in climbing because height mattered and weight was a handicap and Beverly was tall and lithe.
Gabby frowned a little when she saw Beverly. The men changed immediately when she arrived. They knew about Gabby and Beverly but where they treated Beverly like one of the guys no one could keep their eyes off Beverly. She was unaware of it and it always angered Gabby, but on the inside; for she didn't say a lot of things to Beverly or anyone else for Gabby didn't like to share her feelings.
As Beverly stretched the men began to help her with things and the older professor began to protect her. David wanted to give her a boost.
After the warm ups and stretching Gabby went through the rules of the climb. The leader of each climb did this and it was ritualized and unquestioned. Gabby began to joke about my wife is so dumb jokes as she reviewed the standard operating procedures.
She said my wife is so dumb that -----
She made a few dumb jokes as she went through the five minute speal about how to fall, what to do if you can't go on, then gave a motivational ending.
She concluded with my wife is so dumb she doesn't know she has a nice ass and thinks everyone looks at her because of the new yellow dress she bought.
The Professor shot Gabby a judgmental look and Beverly finally realized what was going on.
Beverly didn't enjoy the rest of the climb.
out on the ledge
out on the ledge
fiction
edward w pritchard
Kery a woke to find him find himself in a constant cold drizzle climbing down a sloping tin roof trying to get to the north edge of the roof which was the lowest so he might drop off and get back on solid ground. There were ribs sticking up in the roof about four inches high that held the roof together and they were very sharp. To move down toward the drop off point Kery had to settle himself down slowly, while fighting gravity, which wanted to crash him forcibly to the ground below which would kill him because of the fall. All the time he lowered himself, lying face down on his stomach, stretched to his full height, moving slowly forward a cold rain froze to the metal roof and made his hands not function properly. He needed his hands because he had to hold them just so so or he would slice his fingers on the razor sharp ribs holding the roof together on the old house. Kery's arms ached from the exertion of holding himself steady and the muscles of his stomach and sides quivered from the exertion.
Looking down into the house below he could see the people in the room below had had a baby girl. The girl was the center of attention and was in a small baby crib and several people crowded around. The realization came to Keri that he might be looking into his great grand mother's house and the baby was his grandmother. The great grandmother had died when Keri was four, he had been taken to see her once at an old nursing home when she was 98. The grand mother, who might be the baby girl, had died when Keri was twelve and he had known her only as an old woman. The great grandmother was dark haired and beaming. The baby was a beautiful baby.
It was windy up on the roof and Kerry had to stay low to be able to see because of the icy rain driven by a light persistent wind. His lower back began to spasm from the strain of steadying himself as using his hands he descended along the sharp ribs toward the drop off point at the edge of the roof. He was very fatigued. Once or twice the realization flashed to him that if he let go he would still end up on the ground.
He was aware suddenly that gloves would help his ordeal. After that flash of insight he became aware how desperately he wanted to get to the ground safely. He tried to stop in his descent and rest and found out he could, but the pain to his muscles and hands intensified. With that realization Keri inched painfully toward the drop off point. Now he was aware that he was being resisted from moving forward. He was being pushed down strongly and held back forcibly. There was profound fear of the next outcome. Keri was driven to move. In addition to the rain and wind he began to hear sounds. Keri continued toward the drop off point.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Kery a woke to find him find himself in a constant cold drizzle climbing down a sloping tin roof trying to get to the north edge of the roof which was the lowest so he might drop off and get back on solid ground. There were ribs sticking up in the roof about four inches high that held the roof together and they were very sharp. To move down toward the drop off point Kery had to settle himself down slowly, while fighting gravity, which wanted to crash him forcibly to the ground below which would kill him because of the fall. All the time he lowered himself, lying face down on his stomach, stretched to his full height, moving slowly forward a cold rain froze to the metal roof and made his hands not function properly. He needed his hands because he had to hold them just so so or he would slice his fingers on the razor sharp ribs holding the roof together on the old house. Kery's arms ached from the exertion of holding himself steady and the muscles of his stomach and sides quivered from the exertion.
Looking down into the house below he could see the people in the room below had had a baby girl. The girl was the center of attention and was in a small baby crib and several people crowded around. The realization came to Keri that he might be looking into his great grand mother's house and the baby was his grandmother. The great grandmother had died when Keri was four, he had been taken to see her once at an old nursing home when she was 98. The grand mother, who might be the baby girl, had died when Keri was twelve and he had known her only as an old woman. The great grandmother was dark haired and beaming. The baby was a beautiful baby.
It was windy up on the roof and Kerry had to stay low to be able to see because of the icy rain driven by a light persistent wind. His lower back began to spasm from the strain of steadying himself as using his hands he descended along the sharp ribs toward the drop off point at the edge of the roof. He was very fatigued. Once or twice the realization flashed to him that if he let go he would still end up on the ground.
He was aware suddenly that gloves would help his ordeal. After that flash of insight he became aware how desperately he wanted to get to the ground safely. He tried to stop in his descent and rest and found out he could, but the pain to his muscles and hands intensified. With that realization Keri inched painfully toward the drop off point. Now he was aware that he was being resisted from moving forward. He was being pushed down strongly and held back forcibly. There was profound fear of the next outcome. Keri was driven to move. In addition to the rain and wind he began to hear sounds. Keri continued toward the drop off point.
end
Monday, April 19, 2010
impressionism
impressionism
fiction
edward w pritchard
Aunt Jennie was the smartest person in our extended family, I think. She used to help me with my trigonometry when I was in high school and she was in College. She said she didn't like trig, and it wasn't her best subject, but she knew more about Trigonometry than either of the math teachers at our school.
Aunt Jennie is older now and she works for herself as an inventor. She worked five years at the Goodyear and then decided to go off on her own.
She gave me a lamp for my bedroom she invented. It's to display the paintings she gave me earlier. I like the paintings she gave me and she has a lot of similar works herself of the same style at her apartment. The paintings are impressionist paintings.
Impressionism is a French style of painting from the 19th century mostly in France. Cezanne, Monet and of course Van Gogh. My favorites are of the sunrises.
Aunt Jenny invented a light that would mimic the waning and setting sun and the effect that would have on the landscape of the earth. The artists when they painted in the impressionistic style would come back to the same spot at the same exact minute every day to paint a tree or cloud in one of their pictures to get the exact light they wanted to illuminate their picture. Sometimes it was about shadow and lack of light to the artists. I keep Aunt Jenny's lamp in my room and it illuminates the three impressionistic style paintings I have. I like to see how the pictures look with the different kinds of light.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Aunt Jennie was the smartest person in our extended family, I think. She used to help me with my trigonometry when I was in high school and she was in College. She said she didn't like trig, and it wasn't her best subject, but she knew more about Trigonometry than either of the math teachers at our school.
Aunt Jennie is older now and she works for herself as an inventor. She worked five years at the Goodyear and then decided to go off on her own.
She gave me a lamp for my bedroom she invented. It's to display the paintings she gave me earlier. I like the paintings she gave me and she has a lot of similar works herself of the same style at her apartment. The paintings are impressionist paintings.
Impressionism is a French style of painting from the 19th century mostly in France. Cezanne, Monet and of course Van Gogh. My favorites are of the sunrises.
Aunt Jenny invented a light that would mimic the waning and setting sun and the effect that would have on the landscape of the earth. The artists when they painted in the impressionistic style would come back to the same spot at the same exact minute every day to paint a tree or cloud in one of their pictures to get the exact light they wanted to illuminate their picture. Sometimes it was about shadow and lack of light to the artists. I keep Aunt Jenny's lamp in my room and it illuminates the three impressionistic style paintings I have. I like to see how the pictures look with the different kinds of light.
the sensitive Casandra
the sensitive Casandra
fiction
edward w pritchard
Sometimes the World's not benevolent.
It's so easy in a television news story. A righteous cause, caring friends, getting out the word, the ball gets rolling, the final sound byte of everyone happily eating cake on TV. Problem solved. When our friend got cancer without health insurance it didn't work like a TV story for us.
Our friend Jo, a girl, was 14 had cancer and there was no health insurance so all of us at the ninth grade sold pins with a puzzle piece on it and a bow to help raise money. Then we washed cars and we had a ravioli dinner and then we went to the suburban newspaper and several of our father's places of employment. After a couple of months we had by herculean effort raise about $800 dollars and we decided to try a new strategy.
We went to the community bank for a loan. We took the story about our fund raising and our friend's plight to the Community Bank to the President, Mr. Ray who had spoke to us in the business class in our ninth grade social studies class. He was very helpful, taught us a lot, and the Bank donated $50 and so did he, donate another $50, from his own money. We found out the World was not always benevolent. Not indifferent just preoccupied with other pressing concerns. We didn't get our loan.
Mr. Ray, the Bank President when we pressed and pressed him refereed us to Mrs. Brown. She was the only black lady in our Suburban neighborhood. She lived in a large brick house with an expensive fence around it. She worked on her gardens a lot. Her husband was dead and she didn't leave her house much. When we were in grade school and selling anything at school we would race to her house to get there first for she would always buy candy or Christmas cards or pins made of puzzle pieces and ribbon to raise money for a friend with cancer. She also would pay $15 dollars to have you shovel the snow with her snow shovel off her sidewalk every time it snowed. Completion was fierce every time it snowed when we ran to her house to ask to shovel the snow.
I went to see Mrs. Brown. I am Sheri, and I took Ossie and Lancey and our friend with the cancer is Jo, a girl but she didn't go, too sick. Mrs. Brown lives alone and listened to us and gave us some pineapple juice to drink. She gave us $25 for Jo. Lancy blurted out about the stock market. " We were desperate and the world isn't benevolent and we had to help Jo to help fight the cancer which was very expensive" Please help us I said.
Mrs. Brown said no. The stock market was too risky and we didn't understand.
We brought Jo over with her shaved head and then Mrs. Brown was sad but asked us to bring her a Wall Street Journal every morning. She would to have start reading it again if she was going to help us. Everyday we raced to her house from Feeman's drug store with a Wall Street Journal, one can of Pepsi for her, her favorite, from us and a different kind of candy bar, to her again, from who ever of us was bringing her the paper.
She eventually picked an IPO stock. It was 1997 and stocks were flying, it said in the Wall Street Journal. Jo's family needed the money for the cancer treatments.
We worked on Mrs. Brown's elaborate garden that Spring and she followed that stock. We went to the store for her and did errands for her for Mrs. Brown didn't get out of the house much normally.
It took about ten weeks but somehow Mrs. Brown turned $1100 dollars into 18,400 after commissions and taxes in the NASDAQ stock market. My Dad said it couldn't happen and after it did he said it was miraculous.
Jo's doing better with the cancer. Its in remission and its a year since we went to Mrs. Brown to help us.
Her nephew came to see me, I am Sheri and I am the leader of our group who wanted to raise money for our friend Jo with cancer. We were successful but now Mrs. Brown isn't gardening anymore. She can't. She can hardly leave the house, even with her nephew's help. Her nephew told me. She could study the stock market in the Wall Street Journal and was very good at picking stocks. If the market was going up, in a bull phase she was usually very successful at picking stocks. The bad part was studying all the inter relationships of the world and how they effected stock prices depressed her badly said her nephew. It was very bad for her and she had been told by her Doctor's not to do it. Mrs. Brown understood the inter relationships between events but it depressed her to study them and try to peer into the future, a necessary task to make money with the stock market.
Mrs. Brown can't garden anymore, at least not this year. Her nephew has asked us not to try to do the gardening now. The garden's not doing too well. The high fence is still around the large brick house and Mrs. Brown sits in the rocking chair on the screened in porch a lot, I can see her when I ride by on my bike. She nods I think, its hard to tell with the rocking. I am sorry I asked her but I didn't know and she didn't tell us exactly.
Jo is in remission now but Mrs. Brown is not doing well, at least not now.
The world's not benevolent sometimes.
End
fiction
edward w pritchard
Sometimes the World's not benevolent.
It's so easy in a television news story. A righteous cause, caring friends, getting out the word, the ball gets rolling, the final sound byte of everyone happily eating cake on TV. Problem solved. When our friend got cancer without health insurance it didn't work like a TV story for us.
Our friend Jo, a girl, was 14 had cancer and there was no health insurance so all of us at the ninth grade sold pins with a puzzle piece on it and a bow to help raise money. Then we washed cars and we had a ravioli dinner and then we went to the suburban newspaper and several of our father's places of employment. After a couple of months we had by herculean effort raise about $800 dollars and we decided to try a new strategy.
We went to the community bank for a loan. We took the story about our fund raising and our friend's plight to the Community Bank to the President, Mr. Ray who had spoke to us in the business class in our ninth grade social studies class. He was very helpful, taught us a lot, and the Bank donated $50 and so did he, donate another $50, from his own money. We found out the World was not always benevolent. Not indifferent just preoccupied with other pressing concerns. We didn't get our loan.
Mr. Ray, the Bank President when we pressed and pressed him refereed us to Mrs. Brown. She was the only black lady in our Suburban neighborhood. She lived in a large brick house with an expensive fence around it. She worked on her gardens a lot. Her husband was dead and she didn't leave her house much. When we were in grade school and selling anything at school we would race to her house to get there first for she would always buy candy or Christmas cards or pins made of puzzle pieces and ribbon to raise money for a friend with cancer. She also would pay $15 dollars to have you shovel the snow with her snow shovel off her sidewalk every time it snowed. Completion was fierce every time it snowed when we ran to her house to ask to shovel the snow.
I went to see Mrs. Brown. I am Sheri, and I took Ossie and Lancey and our friend with the cancer is Jo, a girl but she didn't go, too sick. Mrs. Brown lives alone and listened to us and gave us some pineapple juice to drink. She gave us $25 for Jo. Lancy blurted out about the stock market. " We were desperate and the world isn't benevolent and we had to help Jo to help fight the cancer which was very expensive" Please help us I said.
Mrs. Brown said no. The stock market was too risky and we didn't understand.
We brought Jo over with her shaved head and then Mrs. Brown was sad but asked us to bring her a Wall Street Journal every morning. She would to have start reading it again if she was going to help us. Everyday we raced to her house from Feeman's drug store with a Wall Street Journal, one can of Pepsi for her, her favorite, from us and a different kind of candy bar, to her again, from who ever of us was bringing her the paper.
She eventually picked an IPO stock. It was 1997 and stocks were flying, it said in the Wall Street Journal. Jo's family needed the money for the cancer treatments.
We worked on Mrs. Brown's elaborate garden that Spring and she followed that stock. We went to the store for her and did errands for her for Mrs. Brown didn't get out of the house much normally.
It took about ten weeks but somehow Mrs. Brown turned $1100 dollars into 18,400 after commissions and taxes in the NASDAQ stock market. My Dad said it couldn't happen and after it did he said it was miraculous.
Jo's doing better with the cancer. Its in remission and its a year since we went to Mrs. Brown to help us.
Her nephew came to see me, I am Sheri and I am the leader of our group who wanted to raise money for our friend Jo with cancer. We were successful but now Mrs. Brown isn't gardening anymore. She can't. She can hardly leave the house, even with her nephew's help. Her nephew told me. She could study the stock market in the Wall Street Journal and was very good at picking stocks. If the market was going up, in a bull phase she was usually very successful at picking stocks. The bad part was studying all the inter relationships of the world and how they effected stock prices depressed her badly said her nephew. It was very bad for her and she had been told by her Doctor's not to do it. Mrs. Brown understood the inter relationships between events but it depressed her to study them and try to peer into the future, a necessary task to make money with the stock market.
Mrs. Brown can't garden anymore, at least not this year. Her nephew has asked us not to try to do the gardening now. The garden's not doing too well. The high fence is still around the large brick house and Mrs. Brown sits in the rocking chair on the screened in porch a lot, I can see her when I ride by on my bike. She nods I think, its hard to tell with the rocking. I am sorry I asked her but I didn't know and she didn't tell us exactly.
Jo is in remission now but Mrs. Brown is not doing well, at least not now.
The world's not benevolent sometimes.
End
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