Plodding and trudging along the silk road to return home
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Plodding and trudging along the silk road to return home to formidable far away China my materialistic foe whom I admire and cherish. Shaken not weapons at my weakened borders forgotten empire.
Ancient alliances now broken nostalgically tempt return to nippled Himalayas through moist trade routes. Alone trudging homeward I plod your well traveled silk road toward secret cocooning's.
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Thursday, July 24, 2014
situation room/ part 2
situation room/ part 2
fiction
edward w pritchard
Rich and powerful and in power politicians sit in a secret situation room somewhere in Washington and using the best technology available survey the planet. Our big brother is watching the world.
Were they watching the other day when a missile was fired in error at a passenger jet by a bunch of weekend anarchists playing soldiers? If we had the technology, say a secret super powerful laser in space, should our big brother have stopped the jet from being bought down? What of the repercussions? Should our big brother play God in another countries business?
Why have a situation room at all. We all know that when you build a secret special room the desire is multiplied to use the room to interfere and spy on others. That's how once isolationist America got to be big brother to the world.
If we were going to have a situation room; why not use it to stop killing children in war zones? The idea behind a situation room is if we get information early we can intervene.
Situation room. It's fun to pretend that someone is in control but actually evil and chaos do exist and if destructive technology and bad intentions are in the air terrible things will happen.
Here's what I wrote in situation room /part 1 it's about the day Bin Laden was shot and some musing on the day chief Big Foot was carried out of his hospital bed, an old man with pneumonia and shot; later it was claimed Big foot was shot during battle at Wounded Knee in 1890 in South Dakota.
As author has said before, War is absurd.
Stop the killing of children as a first step to a rational world.
situation room
fiction
edward w pritchard
A man is dead and in the situation room people far away watch anxiously. So powerful and wealthy from their own efforts that they no longer have to watch out for their own financial interests in these things: now it's all about power and position, and posterity and public opinion.
A man is dead. Some think about their own failings and fears. Their duty versus the need for justice. Maybe doubts. Did they get the whole story from others still having vested interests.
Geronimo is a interesting choice of code name for Osama bin Laden. An American Indian. When Geronimo surrendered a few had an interesting take on that situation. What if instead of Geronimo it was operation Big foot, the Sioux chief laying there perpetually dead and frozen in the snow. -Insert picture here- chief big foot frozen Sioux warrior. Bigfoot died in a firefight with the US military in 1890.
How might our enemies feel about us? A man is dead do we forgive our enemies?
.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Rich and powerful and in power politicians sit in a secret situation room somewhere in Washington and using the best technology available survey the planet. Our big brother is watching the world.
Were they watching the other day when a missile was fired in error at a passenger jet by a bunch of weekend anarchists playing soldiers? If we had the technology, say a secret super powerful laser in space, should our big brother have stopped the jet from being bought down? What of the repercussions? Should our big brother play God in another countries business?
Why have a situation room at all. We all know that when you build a secret special room the desire is multiplied to use the room to interfere and spy on others. That's how once isolationist America got to be big brother to the world.
If we were going to have a situation room; why not use it to stop killing children in war zones? The idea behind a situation room is if we get information early we can intervene.
Situation room. It's fun to pretend that someone is in control but actually evil and chaos do exist and if destructive technology and bad intentions are in the air terrible things will happen.
Here's what I wrote in situation room /part 1 it's about the day Bin Laden was shot and some musing on the day chief Big Foot was carried out of his hospital bed, an old man with pneumonia and shot; later it was claimed Big foot was shot during battle at Wounded Knee in 1890 in South Dakota.
As author has said before, War is absurd.
Stop the killing of children as a first step to a rational world.
situation room
fiction
edward w pritchard
A man is dead and in the situation room people far away watch anxiously. So powerful and wealthy from their own efforts that they no longer have to watch out for their own financial interests in these things: now it's all about power and position, and posterity and public opinion.
A man is dead. Some think about their own failings and fears. Their duty versus the need for justice. Maybe doubts. Did they get the whole story from others still having vested interests.
Geronimo is a interesting choice of code name for Osama bin Laden. An American Indian. When Geronimo surrendered a few had an interesting take on that situation. What if instead of Geronimo it was operation Big foot, the Sioux chief laying there perpetually dead and frozen in the snow. -Insert picture here- chief big foot frozen Sioux warrior. Bigfoot died in a firefight with the US military in 1890.
How might our enemies feel about us? A man is dead do we forgive our enemies?
.
Saturday, July 19, 2014
just another guitar player, jose feliciano
just another guitar player, Jose Feliciano
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A dark rainy Saturday morning, a Fall day encroaching in the middle of Summer.
It's a Jose Feliciano type day.
Jose Feliciano just another guitar player? Listen to Jose Feliciano play " Billy Jean" [ is not my love] or " thrill is gone". Genius, superb.
Your love is gone from me and today is that day.
Jose Feliciano, magnifico, esplendido.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A dark rainy Saturday morning, a Fall day encroaching in the middle of Summer.
It's a Jose Feliciano type day.
Jose Feliciano just another guitar player? Listen to Jose Feliciano play " Billy Jean" [ is not my love] or " thrill is gone". Genius, superb.
Your love is gone from me and today is that day.
Jose Feliciano, magnifico, esplendido.
Friday, July 18, 2014
fleeing passenger jet shot from the air by a missile/ part 3
fleeing passenger jet shot from the air by a missile/ part 3
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Here's what I wrote before about air crashes:
in memory of the 300 on the intercepted plane/ewp
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Here's what I wrote before about air crashes:
in memory of the 300 on the intercepted plane/ewp
Sunday, September 18, 2011
fly high, fly far Icarus
fly high, fly far Icarus
fiction
edward w pritchard
Fly high, fly far Icarus
be not afraid like myself.
When we walked the airport fence,
I kept us from being arrested by the gendarmes.
Now fly above and beyond all your fences
that we surrounded you with then
to keep you safe for now.
If you touch the Sun and crash down,
may the Lord shelter you from harm,
and return you to those who love you.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Fly high, fly far Icarus
be not afraid like myself.
When we walked the airport fence,
I kept us from being arrested by the gendarmes.
Now fly above and beyond all your fences
that we surrounded you with then
to keep you safe for now.
If you touch the Sun and crash down,
may the Lord shelter you from harm,
and return you to those who love you.
how long does it take a surface to air missile to go from the ground to a fleeing passenger jet?/ part 2
how long does it take a surface to air missile to go from the ground to a fleeing passenger jet?/ part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Maybe the only adult, the ranking officer in the four man group had had a fight with his wife and had been drinking. Not having a good day really. The decision to fire the new missile launcher recently acquired at a jet traveling at 33,000 feet fell on a couple of inexperienced young anarchists; out of work lads who needed a job and decided to enlist, not bad guys at all just with no experience in air traffic control or advanced missile systems. Couldn't tell a passenger jet full of civilians going on vacation jet's green bleep on a screen from their dreaded enemies soldiers traveling at 33,000 feet in a military transport vessel. Given the chance the soldiers wouldn't do it again and they will be sorry for a long time later for shooting civilians out of the sky.
So you are sitting in a passenger jet going from Amsterdam to Malaysia and you see a heat seeking missile coming at your plane. What's your move? Do you have time to forgive the lads playing soldier for shooting you down if you have military training and a quick mind and can deduce quickly the information above in paragraph one? Or do you think about your own children; maybe you had an argument with one of them before you left the airport? Or do you think about your luggage in the hold below your seat, it's Samsonite and expensive; will your luggage really be indestructible, like in the old television commercials?
It's too bad this writer isn't clairvoyant for real about artificial intelligence, thinking machines rapidly developing consciousness and the guided missile heading for the jet plane realizing what is about to happen and refusing to obey it's orders and programming and dropping to empty ground harmlessly rather than destroy 300 innocent persons who don't deserve too die like this. It's too bad too that there isn't a God who watches for such things, tragedies really and knows everything in advance and doesn't let things like a military missile locate, target and destroy three hundred unique individuals.
If you were sitting in a passenger jet about to be hit by a guided missile launched by a four man military crew that they really didn't understand how to properly operate, and they really never were educated to study ethics or the rules of civilized warfare to realize what was happening for real; if you were the passenger could you forgive the four man crew about to kill you? How about the geniuses who designed the weapon? Or the politicians in an un named Country who approved world class weaponry to be given to weekend soldiers trying to bring on Chaos? Bored with life type young soldiers but not bad chaps really. What about the factory workers somewhere or other who built and assembled the missile that killed 300 civilians, are they culpable?
Life is tragedy sometimes. No one's really to blame when horrible things happen. Everyone is just going about their business and sometimes bad things just happen. It's a shame really. 300 civilians die rather than have a nice vacation because someone decided to build a missile that is capable of knocking a jet fleeing at 400 miles an hour out of the skies over the Ukraine.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Maybe the only adult, the ranking officer in the four man group had had a fight with his wife and had been drinking. Not having a good day really. The decision to fire the new missile launcher recently acquired at a jet traveling at 33,000 feet fell on a couple of inexperienced young anarchists; out of work lads who needed a job and decided to enlist, not bad guys at all just with no experience in air traffic control or advanced missile systems. Couldn't tell a passenger jet full of civilians going on vacation jet's green bleep on a screen from their dreaded enemies soldiers traveling at 33,000 feet in a military transport vessel. Given the chance the soldiers wouldn't do it again and they will be sorry for a long time later for shooting civilians out of the sky.
So you are sitting in a passenger jet going from Amsterdam to Malaysia and you see a heat seeking missile coming at your plane. What's your move? Do you have time to forgive the lads playing soldier for shooting you down if you have military training and a quick mind and can deduce quickly the information above in paragraph one? Or do you think about your own children; maybe you had an argument with one of them before you left the airport? Or do you think about your luggage in the hold below your seat, it's Samsonite and expensive; will your luggage really be indestructible, like in the old television commercials?
It's too bad this writer isn't clairvoyant for real about artificial intelligence, thinking machines rapidly developing consciousness and the guided missile heading for the jet plane realizing what is about to happen and refusing to obey it's orders and programming and dropping to empty ground harmlessly rather than destroy 300 innocent persons who don't deserve too die like this. It's too bad too that there isn't a God who watches for such things, tragedies really and knows everything in advance and doesn't let things like a military missile locate, target and destroy three hundred unique individuals.
If you were sitting in a passenger jet about to be hit by a guided missile launched by a four man military crew that they really didn't understand how to properly operate, and they really never were educated to study ethics or the rules of civilized warfare to realize what was happening for real; if you were the passenger could you forgive the four man crew about to kill you? How about the geniuses who designed the weapon? Or the politicians in an un named Country who approved world class weaponry to be given to weekend soldiers trying to bring on Chaos? Bored with life type young soldiers but not bad chaps really. What about the factory workers somewhere or other who built and assembled the missile that killed 300 civilians, are they culpable?
Life is tragedy sometimes. No one's really to blame when horrible things happen. Everyone is just going about their business and sometimes bad things just happen. It's a shame really. 300 civilians die rather than have a nice vacation because someone decided to build a missile that is capable of knocking a jet fleeing at 400 miles an hour out of the skies over the Ukraine.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
how long does it take a surface to air missile to go from the ground to a passenger jet?
how long does it take a surface to air missile to go from the ground to a passenger jet?
fiction
edward w pritchard
If you were in a passenger jet plane looking out the window could you see a missile fired from the ground if you were 33,000 feet above ground? If you could see the missile leave the ground would you deduce that anyone would fire a missile at a plane carrying 300 civilians?
While you sat in your seat in horror watching the flash of a missile approaching your jet plane and your seat would you have time to make a quick email or write a note? Would you perhaps try to move around the plane to make yourself more safe? Would you try to "climb in the back with your head in the clouds and your gone" [1]?
How long does it take a surface to air missile to go from the ground to a passenger jet at 33,000 thousand feet? If you saw the missile approaching would you feel the initial contact one second before explosion occurred?
What would flash across your mind as your last thought and what would you think of anyone who could shoot at a plane full of innocent civilians headed overseas for their annual vacation?
Flying in a jet plane as a civilian passenger and being shot from the air by teen age idiots playing soldier. It's a horrible way to die.
1. Beatles " Lucy in sky with diamonds"
fiction
edward w pritchard
If you were in a passenger jet plane looking out the window could you see a missile fired from the ground if you were 33,000 feet above ground? If you could see the missile leave the ground would you deduce that anyone would fire a missile at a plane carrying 300 civilians?
While you sat in your seat in horror watching the flash of a missile approaching your jet plane and your seat would you have time to make a quick email or write a note? Would you perhaps try to move around the plane to make yourself more safe? Would you try to "climb in the back with your head in the clouds and your gone" [1]?
How long does it take a surface to air missile to go from the ground to a passenger jet at 33,000 thousand feet? If you saw the missile approaching would you feel the initial contact one second before explosion occurred?
What would flash across your mind as your last thought and what would you think of anyone who could shoot at a plane full of innocent civilians headed overseas for their annual vacation?
Flying in a jet plane as a civilian passenger and being shot from the air by teen age idiots playing soldier. It's a horrible way to die.
1. Beatles " Lucy in sky with diamonds"
the end of the Finnish miracle; Microsoft lays off 18,000 nokiaites
the end of the Finnish miracle; Microsoft lays off 18,000 Nokiaites
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
During world war 2 isolated and alone Finland held off the mighty Russian army for many brutal months of fierce battle.
During the 1990's Nokia ruled the world from Finland developing and exploiting technology after innovation from Finland allowing mini Finland to be admired and respected economically by all the Counties of the world.
Now Nokia is gone absorbed by Microsoft and Microsoft which maybe isn't growing organically itself anymore must cut Nokia jobs in Finland and elsewhere to survive. It won't be long I suppose till Microsoft stockholders want the parent company broken up to enhance stockholder value.
Things change. A phone is a phone but a different company must manufacture it and change the color over and over to keep business booming. Meanwhile the Finnish miracle is over.
Finland the country with wholesome blond women and a clever industrious workforce is still a beautiful place I suppose. I always wanted to go there. Once all the world admired their ability.
Microsoft announced with the layoffs that it will approaching the future from a new direction. Like many others it hopes to rule cloud computing, as does Apple and IBM which recently announced a partnership to exploit possibilities in clouds. Will Microsoft be able to grow it's 366 billion dollar market cap going forward? Perhaps it should look to buy a whole Country, but not Finland which is currently struggling itself to currently grow the old GDP and bring back the Finnish miracle.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
During world war 2 isolated and alone Finland held off the mighty Russian army for many brutal months of fierce battle.
During the 1990's Nokia ruled the world from Finland developing and exploiting technology after innovation from Finland allowing mini Finland to be admired and respected economically by all the Counties of the world.
Now Nokia is gone absorbed by Microsoft and Microsoft which maybe isn't growing organically itself anymore must cut Nokia jobs in Finland and elsewhere to survive. It won't be long I suppose till Microsoft stockholders want the parent company broken up to enhance stockholder value.
Things change. A phone is a phone but a different company must manufacture it and change the color over and over to keep business booming. Meanwhile the Finnish miracle is over.
Finland the country with wholesome blond women and a clever industrious workforce is still a beautiful place I suppose. I always wanted to go there. Once all the world admired their ability.
Microsoft announced with the layoffs that it will approaching the future from a new direction. Like many others it hopes to rule cloud computing, as does Apple and IBM which recently announced a partnership to exploit possibilities in clouds. Will Microsoft be able to grow it's 366 billion dollar market cap going forward? Perhaps it should look to buy a whole Country, but not Finland which is currently struggling itself to currently grow the old GDP and bring back the Finnish miracle.
too drunk to tell the Quinllen twins apart, the role of luck in life
too drunk to tell the Quinllen twins apart, the role of luck in life
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
for his honor, that's Joe to me:
As a young man in Minnesota I was often too drunk to tune a carburetor, too drunk to ice fish or too drunk to hunt elk or coyote. Never though would I have imagined I would be too drunk to tell one beautiful woman from another.
Until I dated one of the Quinllen girls that is. The Quinllen girls were identical twins, very pretty, hands on their hips nicely built to be with, and as I knew, easy. At least I knew and could testify if I wanted to in fact knew that Donna Quinllen was easy and a came on fast on a first date type woman to know.
Another thing I knew, even though I was stumbling around drunk at Barry Rogers after tournament victory party was the Quinllen girls had a strict code of dating etiquette. One never messed with or encouraged the other's men.
Donna Quinllen and her blond sister Hanna were dressed identically and had just arrived at Barry Roger's party. I had been at the party too long already and had drank five or six beers on an empty stomach. We were talking about going hunting up in the mountains later this month when I saw the Quinllen girls dressed in identical pink shirts with no midriff coverage and very tight white short shorts walking side by side towards me. They were too far away for me to use my sense of smell to identify, neither said a word so I couldn't reply on voice recognition and both walked in a distracting but deceiving way. Also being half drunk my other senses were lacking at the critical moment.
I had about two seconds before I would make either a classic dating faux pas or have my arms around the willing lady I loved for the rest of a long delightful evening.
As I said I am a Minnesota man and a hunter at that. Rather than reply on simply luck to decide which of the intriguing Quinllen twins to choose I gave a huge smile, took a large step forward, and using my left foot to trip my right sprawled on the floor in front of both of them.
As I hunter I was curious; would the girl who knew me be the first to react and help me up or would her sister. Sometimes luck will determine one's immediate fate and sometimes with a little fast thinking we can help luck along.
How did I fare with the Quinllen twins back a long time ago in Minnesota? Mustn't talk or brag about success in hunting, fishing or other such conquest tales. I am a Minnesota man; we have a certain code we follow you know.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
for his honor, that's Joe to me:
As a young man in Minnesota I was often too drunk to tune a carburetor, too drunk to ice fish or too drunk to hunt elk or coyote. Never though would I have imagined I would be too drunk to tell one beautiful woman from another.
Until I dated one of the Quinllen girls that is. The Quinllen girls were identical twins, very pretty, hands on their hips nicely built to be with, and as I knew, easy. At least I knew and could testify if I wanted to in fact knew that Donna Quinllen was easy and a came on fast on a first date type woman to know.
Another thing I knew, even though I was stumbling around drunk at Barry Rogers after tournament victory party was the Quinllen girls had a strict code of dating etiquette. One never messed with or encouraged the other's men.
Donna Quinllen and her blond sister Hanna were dressed identically and had just arrived at Barry Roger's party. I had been at the party too long already and had drank five or six beers on an empty stomach. We were talking about going hunting up in the mountains later this month when I saw the Quinllen girls dressed in identical pink shirts with no midriff coverage and very tight white short shorts walking side by side towards me. They were too far away for me to use my sense of smell to identify, neither said a word so I couldn't reply on voice recognition and both walked in a distracting but deceiving way. Also being half drunk my other senses were lacking at the critical moment.
I had about two seconds before I would make either a classic dating faux pas or have my arms around the willing lady I loved for the rest of a long delightful evening.
As I said I am a Minnesota man and a hunter at that. Rather than reply on simply luck to decide which of the intriguing Quinllen twins to choose I gave a huge smile, took a large step forward, and using my left foot to trip my right sprawled on the floor in front of both of them.
As I hunter I was curious; would the girl who knew me be the first to react and help me up or would her sister. Sometimes luck will determine one's immediate fate and sometimes with a little fast thinking we can help luck along.
How did I fare with the Quinllen twins back a long time ago in Minnesota? Mustn't talk or brag about success in hunting, fishing or other such conquest tales. I am a Minnesota man; we have a certain code we follow you know.
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
potato love
potato love
fiction
edward w pritchard
to recycle old love,
wrap some potato peels in discarded newspaper and put in the dark space under the sink
choose peels that aren't too rotten to start
use finger tips to gently roll eyes to encourage new growth
after budding has occured soak new potatoes in warm milk to flavor and soften
bake potatoes, and other ingredients to create a gentle souffle
a dash of pepper added while cooling will disguise bitterness caused during initial fermentation
serve loved one concoction in a deep sided bowl with a splash of chives and a hint of mint
fiction
edward w pritchard
to recycle old love,
wrap some potato peels in discarded newspaper and put in the dark space under the sink
choose peels that aren't too rotten to start
use finger tips to gently roll eyes to encourage new growth
after budding has occured soak new potatoes in warm milk to flavor and soften
bake potatoes, and other ingredients to create a gentle souffle
a dash of pepper added while cooling will disguise bitterness caused during initial fermentation
serve loved one concoction in a deep sided bowl with a splash of chives and a hint of mint
to be in India during the monsoons
to be in India during the monsoons
fiction
edward w Pritchard
To be in India during the Summer monsoons would be nice. With an umbrella yes but still standing under a tin awning listening to the patter of a driving rain soak the city.
I could watch you drive by on your bike wearing a leather rain hat with your jet black hair sticking out around the edges. Water would jump up from the street to soak your tiny shoes and feet.
If you would pull into the building I was waiting under I would speak to you in your own language and invite you for curry rice and tea.
Later I would ask you about your studies at the University, your plans to travel in Europe and inquire if your Mother was feeling better. If I caught a cold and you unexpectedly sent me home some soup I wouldn't tell you I added hot sauce for extra flavor.
Monsoon season ends suddenly and friendships can too.
fiction
edward w Pritchard
To be in India during the Summer monsoons would be nice. With an umbrella yes but still standing under a tin awning listening to the patter of a driving rain soak the city.
I could watch you drive by on your bike wearing a leather rain hat with your jet black hair sticking out around the edges. Water would jump up from the street to soak your tiny shoes and feet.
If you would pull into the building I was waiting under I would speak to you in your own language and invite you for curry rice and tea.
Later I would ask you about your studies at the University, your plans to travel in Europe and inquire if your Mother was feeling better. If I caught a cold and you unexpectedly sent me home some soup I wouldn't tell you I added hot sauce for extra flavor.
Monsoon season ends suddenly and friendships can too.
Monday, July 14, 2014
so sad, too bad, but what could be done
so sad, too bad, but what could be done?
fiction
The museum in Kabul, Afghanistan was a victim of the war and violence there in the 1990's. So many irreplaceable artifacts were looted or destroyed in the warfare. The museum was bombed and the collection was looted. Parts of the valuable collection of artifacts from the previous 7,000 years of Afghanistan's history have disappeared. Hopefully whoever stole the items was being greedy and not out to destroy Art and treasure for religious reasons.
So sad, too bad, but what can be done? War is Hell. We just wring our hands and shake our heads.
Soon, soon the intelligent machines will safe guard art and museums from the idiocy of humans. Paroling from the airspace over museums from above the intelligent machines will not look kindly on the destruction of art treasures for any reason. Soon, soon the intelligent machines will safeguard art and the museums of the world from the idiocy of humans.
fiction
The museum in Kabul, Afghanistan was a victim of the war and violence there in the 1990's. So many irreplaceable artifacts were looted or destroyed in the warfare. The museum was bombed and the collection was looted. Parts of the valuable collection of artifacts from the previous 7,000 years of Afghanistan's history have disappeared. Hopefully whoever stole the items was being greedy and not out to destroy Art and treasure for religious reasons.
So sad, too bad, but what can be done? War is Hell. We just wring our hands and shake our heads.
Soon, soon the intelligent machines will safe guard art and museums from the idiocy of humans. Paroling from the airspace over museums from above the intelligent machines will not look kindly on the destruction of art treasures for any reason. Soon, soon the intelligent machines will safeguard art and the museums of the world from the idiocy of humans.
welfare in America circa 2060
welfare in America circa 2060
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Circumstance dictated his choices. I remember studying that in middle school about some General's actions in the wars with the machines.
Because of circumstance I have decided to spend my two week vacation this year at the Cleveland clinic medical complex earning credits toward paying down my student loans by attending the Government subsidized medical lectures and exhibits at the sprawling Cleveland medical Mall located between Ohio and Canada out over and under Lake Erie.
First I have to get there and my train trip is totally free. It's not a rapid of course or first class but it's pleasant here in the coach and lots of the Doctors and pretty technicians travel to work at the clinic in coach to save credits and they all smile and nod at me perhaps thinking me a patient. Medical patients are appreciated at the Cleveland clinic medical complex. Patients pay the freight to keep the economy going as the slogan says.
I am going all in to earn credits myself so I use the hand held to select videos to watch on the TV monitors as we ride through the endless cardiac wings. You get extra credits if you choose your own videos rather than letting the intelligent programs pick for you after scanning your DNA for future medical problems using profiling technology. To earn even extra credits I am completing all the surveys at the end of each video. Yes, I would use aspirin manufactured at space station Alexandria 379, no I would never have a second alcohol while operating levitating equipment. I am not joking about earning maximum credits; according to what I read it's possible to pay off all of one's student debt by spending 9 years vacation time visiting Medical orientations.
I hate to say it but all these cardiac physicians all look the same. I am not talking about the robotic Doctors, I mean the humans. 5 feet 8 and no fat on their frame but they look a little uptight to me. They lose a lot of credits if they drop {kill} a patient for whatever reason and they all look a little glum with life to me. They work long hours and the walls in all the cardiac areas are blue, blue is soothing to patients but God awful for the Doctors and technicians to work in all day I suppose. I like the other halves { female} [1] technicians uniforms with the open backs.
I am already tired of watching videos. Most of them are for diet, diet, diet. How to lose that last two pounds by eating kelp filled M and M candy and things like that. Tonight after I settle in at my hotel room, free also, I have three lectures to attend. You and eczema, appreciate your pancreas and something about synthetic viruses.
Don't care what people say about America becoming a medical welfare State. I am going to stick with my nine year program and pay off my student debts by using my vacation time wisely. Two thousand fifteen minute informative medical lectures and I will be student debt free. You have to carry your own luggage into the Hotel to get the exercise credit so I packed light this year. I am going to tip the robotic bellboys even though I carry my own bags. Mustn't start off on the wrong foot with the hotel staff.
end
part 1
1. " Discover magazine does not condone sexist language, author was writing in a less enlightened time. We are sorry to include reference to gender but felt it was in keeping with author's persona." Editors
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Circumstance dictated his choices. I remember studying that in middle school about some General's actions in the wars with the machines.
Because of circumstance I have decided to spend my two week vacation this year at the Cleveland clinic medical complex earning credits toward paying down my student loans by attending the Government subsidized medical lectures and exhibits at the sprawling Cleveland medical Mall located between Ohio and Canada out over and under Lake Erie.
First I have to get there and my train trip is totally free. It's not a rapid of course or first class but it's pleasant here in the coach and lots of the Doctors and pretty technicians travel to work at the clinic in coach to save credits and they all smile and nod at me perhaps thinking me a patient. Medical patients are appreciated at the Cleveland clinic medical complex. Patients pay the freight to keep the economy going as the slogan says.
I am going all in to earn credits myself so I use the hand held to select videos to watch on the TV monitors as we ride through the endless cardiac wings. You get extra credits if you choose your own videos rather than letting the intelligent programs pick for you after scanning your DNA for future medical problems using profiling technology. To earn even extra credits I am completing all the surveys at the end of each video. Yes, I would use aspirin manufactured at space station Alexandria 379, no I would never have a second alcohol while operating levitating equipment. I am not joking about earning maximum credits; according to what I read it's possible to pay off all of one's student debt by spending 9 years vacation time visiting Medical orientations.
I hate to say it but all these cardiac physicians all look the same. I am not talking about the robotic Doctors, I mean the humans. 5 feet 8 and no fat on their frame but they look a little uptight to me. They lose a lot of credits if they drop {kill} a patient for whatever reason and they all look a little glum with life to me. They work long hours and the walls in all the cardiac areas are blue, blue is soothing to patients but God awful for the Doctors and technicians to work in all day I suppose. I like the other halves { female} [1] technicians uniforms with the open backs.
I am already tired of watching videos. Most of them are for diet, diet, diet. How to lose that last two pounds by eating kelp filled M and M candy and things like that. Tonight after I settle in at my hotel room, free also, I have three lectures to attend. You and eczema, appreciate your pancreas and something about synthetic viruses.
Don't care what people say about America becoming a medical welfare State. I am going to stick with my nine year program and pay off my student debts by using my vacation time wisely. Two thousand fifteen minute informative medical lectures and I will be student debt free. You have to carry your own luggage into the Hotel to get the exercise credit so I packed light this year. I am going to tip the robotic bellboys even though I carry my own bags. Mustn't start off on the wrong foot with the hotel staff.
end
part 1
1. " Discover magazine does not condone sexist language, author was writing in a less enlightened time. We are sorry to include reference to gender but felt it was in keeping with author's persona." Editors
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Why no one shops retail in America anymore
Why no one shops retail in America anymore
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Been to the Mall lately. No one shops retail in America anymore. Matter of fact other than gas and very expensive coffee no one buys anything at all in America anymore. Everyone just pays bills, and utilities, and taxes.
Try to save for retirement. If you are a new young worker you will need about three million old script [ formerly called dollars] to retire and maintain a bourgeois lifestyle.
Want to know what happen to retail? Go to a Sears store, yes they still are at Malls, and find the tool section. They have hundreds of kinds of socket sets. When was the last time anyone needed a socket wrench? Come to think of it when was the last time anyone needed a screw driver, a hammer, an anvil to fix a horseshoe or a special knife to carve an arrow.
Things have changed in America. No one shops retail anymore.
Here's what I wrote before. This is personal. It's about my America, now gone.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Been to the Mall lately. No one shops retail in America anymore. Matter of fact other than gas and very expensive coffee no one buys anything at all in America anymore. Everyone just pays bills, and utilities, and taxes.
Try to save for retirement. If you are a new young worker you will need about three million old script [ formerly called dollars] to retire and maintain a bourgeois lifestyle.
Want to know what happen to retail? Go to a Sears store, yes they still are at Malls, and find the tool section. They have hundreds of kinds of socket sets. When was the last time anyone needed a socket wrench? Come to think of it when was the last time anyone needed a screw driver, a hammer, an anvil to fix a horseshoe or a special knife to carve an arrow.
Things have changed in America. No one shops retail anymore.
Here's what I wrote before. This is personal. It's about my America, now gone.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Hunter Green
Hunter Green
fiction
edward w pritchard
We framed all the doors and windows in hunter green paint and planned on repainting the whole world that way.
We had a hunter green van and kept beautiful children in there and tried to keep them from growing up.
We bought stocks and gold and silver and watched them closely for they were the future.
We kept up all the insurances for it guarded us against life's risk and we were confident that we were safe and secure.
We lead the whole world and we felt a little sorry for the rest of them because they lagged behind us and didn't know how to keep up.
One day the houses weren't homes any more and the vans were no longer stylish. The gold and silver belonged to someone else and the stocks were viperous. The insurance worked fine but there was now more insurance than value to insure. The children grew up and despite their massive potential we saw their lives would be hard and we suffered for them.
The rest of the world felt a little sorry for us because they knew these things all along. The rest of the world had learned them long ago.
We in America had felt that for the last twelve thousand years events had happened one after the other to bring about the blossoming of our culture in about 1995. It took about twenty years but time and circumstance caught up with America and now every day we slip back a little and we don't understand why.
fiction
edward w pritchard
We framed all the doors and windows in hunter green paint and planned on repainting the whole world that way.
We had a hunter green van and kept beautiful children in there and tried to keep them from growing up.
We bought stocks and gold and silver and watched them closely for they were the future.
We kept up all the insurances for it guarded us against life's risk and we were confident that we were safe and secure.
We lead the whole world and we felt a little sorry for the rest of them because they lagged behind us and didn't know how to keep up.
One day the houses weren't homes any more and the vans were no longer stylish. The gold and silver belonged to someone else and the stocks were viperous. The insurance worked fine but there was now more insurance than value to insure. The children grew up and despite their massive potential we saw their lives would be hard and we suffered for them.
The rest of the world felt a little sorry for us because they knew these things all along. The rest of the world had learned them long ago.
We in America had felt that for the last twelve thousand years events had happened one after the other to bring about the blossoming of our culture in about 1995. It took about twenty years but time and circumstance caught up with America and now every day we slip back a little and we don't understand why.
Wear the badge just over your heart if you are going to be the Sheriff
Wear the badge just over your heart if you are going to be the Sheriff
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Un-pure thoughts spring to mind when I contemplate your Heart my Dear.
Wear the badge just over your heart my angel on a black vest if you are going to be the Sheriff.
I like the way the badge sways across your chest when you walk or undulate your arms rhythmically over your head my sunshine.
Remind me my lady I have forgotten my crimes; why don't you remove the vest and boots to press up against me in the shower anymore?
Approach me slowly taking small steps with your legs apart when you confront me at high noon on main street for our meeting with destiny my sparrow. I'll let you draw first and I'll say something memorable after I fall like " do not forsake me oh my darling".
If it's not too much trouble drag me out to boot Hill and bury me without a marker. It would be nice though if you would pin your badge to a crooked stick and drive it into the thorny ground heaped over me.
If you don't feel like singing please "whistle a tune that will carry me back to old Tombstone Territory."
buried on boot hill with no marker
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
For over a century I felt a certain distinction to be buried on boot hill with no marker. Eventually however my lack of respectability and status began to gnaw at me and I began to contemplate how to remedy my situation by changing how I would face the rest of my time in eternity.
I've decided to become a tourist attraction. Now that I know what I want it shouldn't be so hard to accomplish my goals.
end
" whistle a tune that will carry me back to tombstone territory" by William Backer Esteem music
" do not forsake me oh my darling" from "High Noon" sung by Tex Ritter written by Ned Washington
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Un-pure thoughts spring to mind when I contemplate your Heart my Dear.
Wear the badge just over your heart my angel on a black vest if you are going to be the Sheriff.
I like the way the badge sways across your chest when you walk or undulate your arms rhythmically over your head my sunshine.
Remind me my lady I have forgotten my crimes; why don't you remove the vest and boots to press up against me in the shower anymore?
Approach me slowly taking small steps with your legs apart when you confront me at high noon on main street for our meeting with destiny my sparrow. I'll let you draw first and I'll say something memorable after I fall like " do not forsake me oh my darling".
If it's not too much trouble drag me out to boot Hill and bury me without a marker. It would be nice though if you would pin your badge to a crooked stick and drive it into the thorny ground heaped over me.
If you don't feel like singing please "whistle a tune that will carry me back to old Tombstone Territory."
buried on boot hill with no marker
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
For over a century I felt a certain distinction to be buried on boot hill with no marker. Eventually however my lack of respectability and status began to gnaw at me and I began to contemplate how to remedy my situation by changing how I would face the rest of my time in eternity.
I've decided to become a tourist attraction. Now that I know what I want it shouldn't be so hard to accomplish my goals.
end
" whistle a tune that will carry me back to tombstone territory" by William Backer Esteem music
" do not forsake me oh my darling" from "High Noon" sung by Tex Ritter written by Ned Washington
Saturday, July 12, 2014
good health, bad health it's all the same to the Blackfeet Indians
good health, bad health it's all the same to the Blackfeet Indians
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
thoughts on " Obamacare health insurance"
Once the Blackfeet Indians of Montana would use the jumping routine to drive the buffalo over the side of a cliff. Everyone would drag and carry meat and bone back to camp or scrape, sort and puncture to make treated hides for tee-pees and new vestments or if they were a chief or medicine man get to eat some buffalo tongue, a real delicacy.
The ancient way of life changed drastically for the Blackfeet Indians of Montana and Alberta Canada after the Europeans came to their homelands. The tribe became fierce and affiliated several times with other native Americans previously enemies or rivals but even when they got horses and rifles try as they might they couldn't adopt economically to the changes brought on by the onslaught of European settlers hungry for land and obsessed with making something of themselves in their new homeland.
Today the American portion of the Blackfeet Indians live on reservations and 95% of them live in poverty. The total living in poverty would be higher but luckily there is oil and gas under the land they live on resulting in the usual and customary divisions between rich and poor.
Good health, bad health it's all the same for the Blackfeet Indians these days. Poverty is a real drag. Everyday you get a little older and less able to cope with the changes coming at you but the good news is you don't have time to worry about small pox, or measles or other assaults on your immune system brought about by challenges to your health because you are in a running battle with the economic forces silently but obstreperously destroying your ancient way of life.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
thoughts on " Obamacare health insurance"
Once the Blackfeet Indians of Montana would use the jumping routine to drive the buffalo over the side of a cliff. Everyone would drag and carry meat and bone back to camp or scrape, sort and puncture to make treated hides for tee-pees and new vestments or if they were a chief or medicine man get to eat some buffalo tongue, a real delicacy.
The ancient way of life changed drastically for the Blackfeet Indians of Montana and Alberta Canada after the Europeans came to their homelands. The tribe became fierce and affiliated several times with other native Americans previously enemies or rivals but even when they got horses and rifles try as they might they couldn't adopt economically to the changes brought on by the onslaught of European settlers hungry for land and obsessed with making something of themselves in their new homeland.
Today the American portion of the Blackfeet Indians live on reservations and 95% of them live in poverty. The total living in poverty would be higher but luckily there is oil and gas under the land they live on resulting in the usual and customary divisions between rich and poor.
Good health, bad health it's all the same for the Blackfeet Indians these days. Poverty is a real drag. Everyday you get a little older and less able to cope with the changes coming at you but the good news is you don't have time to worry about small pox, or measles or other assaults on your immune system brought about by challenges to your health because you are in a running battle with the economic forces silently but obstreperously destroying your ancient way of life.
Friday, July 11, 2014
it's never too late to get with the program
it's never too late to get with the program
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It's ridiculous, true, but I figure it's never to late to get with the program. Me a sixty two year old man about to find and wear a tie dyed jacket.
In protest against the world's sorry condition this week I am going to search the charity thrift stores for a tie dyed jacket for myself to wear as a silent protest against the impending wars and violence breaking out throughout the world.
On top of that thousands of children are storming the border between Mexico and Texas. I honestly don't know how to react to that. Is it like the barbarians in 406AD crossing the frozen Rhine, harbingering of the fall of the Roman empire? Or is it a ploy cooked up by the parties in power here in America to take our mind off a sea of other troubles in our Country?..
Me I am going to put on a tie dyed jacket and return to the confidence and optimism of youth in the 1960's. Like another tie dyed wearing hippy said, " I remember days when it was raining daisies." [1]
1- John Sebastian- " she's a lady"
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It's ridiculous, true, but I figure it's never to late to get with the program. Me a sixty two year old man about to find and wear a tie dyed jacket.
In protest against the world's sorry condition this week I am going to search the charity thrift stores for a tie dyed jacket for myself to wear as a silent protest against the impending wars and violence breaking out throughout the world.
On top of that thousands of children are storming the border between Mexico and Texas. I honestly don't know how to react to that. Is it like the barbarians in 406AD crossing the frozen Rhine, harbingering of the fall of the Roman empire? Or is it a ploy cooked up by the parties in power here in America to take our mind off a sea of other troubles in our Country?..
Me I am going to put on a tie dyed jacket and return to the confidence and optimism of youth in the 1960's. Like another tie dyed wearing hippy said, " I remember days when it was raining daisies." [1]
1- John Sebastian- " she's a lady"
the devil and ed pritchard, aspiring author
the devil and ed pritchard, aspiring author
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
author- I am sure the lack of readers of this blog is temporary. It's just the Summer loll, caused by July vacations and pic-nics and things like that.
the devil- [kindly] well I would think people in America will be too tapped out now from the high prices for gas to travel and take vacations. Don't confuse cause and effect.
author- I was thinking maybe you could help me get some readers for my blog in return for a trade of my immortal soul
the devil- you mean get real people to read what you write?
author- yes
the devil- I can only do so much, I am not sure if even I could get people to do some things, I hate to over promise and not be able to deliver
author- well thanks anyway for stopping by
the devil- I needed a break, the world seems to be especially chaotic lately. What a mess. You think you have problems.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
author- I am sure the lack of readers of this blog is temporary. It's just the Summer loll, caused by July vacations and pic-nics and things like that.
the devil- [kindly] well I would think people in America will be too tapped out now from the high prices for gas to travel and take vacations. Don't confuse cause and effect.
author- I was thinking maybe you could help me get some readers for my blog in return for a trade of my immortal soul
the devil- you mean get real people to read what you write?
author- yes
the devil- I can only do so much, I am not sure if even I could get people to do some things, I hate to over promise and not be able to deliver
author- well thanks anyway for stopping by
the devil- I needed a break, the world seems to be especially chaotic lately. What a mess. You think you have problems.
When tanks are pictured on the news
When tanks are pictured on the news
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A tank is like a strong man with two hands clutched in a knuckles facing forward fist.
Airpower brings death and destruction but tanks bring capitulation.
Civilians die when the tanks roll in. When tanks are pictured on the news the battle is in the final stages and the game is serious. Slogans are useless when tanks belch metal and fire at exposed flesh.
Soon weapons makers will send flying tanks into battle. Soon there will be no more civilians.
It's time again for Buffy Sainte Marie to sing " Universal soldier". The tanks are about to roll again.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A tank is like a strong man with two hands clutched in a knuckles facing forward fist.
Airpower brings death and destruction but tanks bring capitulation.
Civilians die when the tanks roll in. When tanks are pictured on the news the battle is in the final stages and the game is serious. Slogans are useless when tanks belch metal and fire at exposed flesh.
Soon weapons makers will send flying tanks into battle. Soon there will be no more civilians.
It's time again for Buffy Sainte Marie to sing " Universal soldier". The tanks are about to roll again.
stock market televison financial show guest expert don't preach too much fire and brimstone you will scare away the bull market
Stock market television financial show guest expert don't preach too much fire and brimstone you will scare away the bull market
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
I am reading Jim Cramer's latest book so I wrote his pals at the financial news something. Boo-yah!
start
If you want to be invited back as a guest host on the Financial news don't be negative and don't be a perpetual bear.
Don't be one of these guys who always sees a 30% drop in prices behind every down day in the Dow. Don't be a cranky bear for the first five years of a robust bull market.
If the market is off for a few days don't scare off the customers. If every viewer was to lose his drive to become fabulously wealthy where would the Financial news network be?
Stock market television financial show guests expert don't preach too much fire and brimstone; you will scare away the bull market and our viewers and customers. A retreat in prices is an ideal time to buy, valuations are more objective, in line with earnings; no one ever lost money betting bullishly on America's future.
Don't try to be an actual prophet. No one can see into the future. No one knows for real when prices for stocks will rise, fall or stay put for a while. It's a charade to pretend to know in aggregate where prices will go next, at least beyond the near term immediate future.
Here's what I wrote before, sort of related to what I am talking about here: as usual this means that and it's all so metaphorical
the caricature artist
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A caricature artist who doesn't follow the unwritten code of the profession can hurt a client deeply.
What lies beneath should be hidden and private. But, in a moment of spontaneity, a day at the beach or a walk in a park, a patron pays a few lira to have his picture sketched in wiggly lines for his best girl. An unflattering silhouette suggesting future rotundity, a beaking red nose hinting at future lechery or an sagging behind offends and startles both involved.
Why won't these young caricature artists follow the ancient criteria of daily practice? Must they shout every one's secret flaws?
Use your pen to entertain not to startle our unsuspecting public and our generous patrons. Let a walk along the boardwalk be pleasant and memorable in a fun way for our customers. Caricature artist don't lay bare your customer's soul.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
I am reading Jim Cramer's latest book so I wrote his pals at the financial news something. Boo-yah!
start
If you want to be invited back as a guest host on the Financial news don't be negative and don't be a perpetual bear.
Don't be one of these guys who always sees a 30% drop in prices behind every down day in the Dow. Don't be a cranky bear for the first five years of a robust bull market.
If the market is off for a few days don't scare off the customers. If every viewer was to lose his drive to become fabulously wealthy where would the Financial news network be?
Stock market television financial show guests expert don't preach too much fire and brimstone; you will scare away the bull market and our viewers and customers. A retreat in prices is an ideal time to buy, valuations are more objective, in line with earnings; no one ever lost money betting bullishly on America's future.
Don't try to be an actual prophet. No one can see into the future. No one knows for real when prices for stocks will rise, fall or stay put for a while. It's a charade to pretend to know in aggregate where prices will go next, at least beyond the near term immediate future.
Here's what I wrote before, sort of related to what I am talking about here: as usual this means that and it's all so metaphorical
the caricature artist
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A caricature artist who doesn't follow the unwritten code of the profession can hurt a client deeply.
What lies beneath should be hidden and private. But, in a moment of spontaneity, a day at the beach or a walk in a park, a patron pays a few lira to have his picture sketched in wiggly lines for his best girl. An unflattering silhouette suggesting future rotundity, a beaking red nose hinting at future lechery or an sagging behind offends and startles both involved.
Why won't these young caricature artists follow the ancient criteria of daily practice? Must they shout every one's secret flaws?
Use your pen to entertain not to startle our unsuspecting public and our generous patrons. Let a walk along the boardwalk be pleasant and memorable in a fun way for our customers. Caricature artist don't lay bare your customer's soul.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
"one morning I woke up and I knew it all"
"one morning I woke up and I knew it all"
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
"Rejoice, rejoice we have no choice but to carry on."
So sings Crosby, Stills,Nash and Young on the Deja Vu album.
The world is very full of strife, violence, fighting, posturing and dirty deeds this morning. Little Wars in so many places. The usual places but threatening to spread everywhere. Ambitious people are very busy expanding their will to power over others.
Worse our elected leaders are doing an especially bad job lately. They have no credibility at all.
"One morning I woke up and I knew it all." ---Can we teach wisdom?
Eventually one is tempted to turn off the news, take the eyes from the stock ticker and head out into the pasture to tend to the horses and rake manure and shovel it in a wheelbarrow to dump on the flowers and plants to nurture new growth.
Ah life. What does it mean? and does it signify anything? Sometimes it is so absurd to fret over the eternal suffering of the folly of mankind. Better to talk with the horses here on the suburban ranch.
Hopefully no children will be hurt by bombs and rockets fired around the world today. Other than that I mind to my own affairs.
'Nothing is new under the Sun sayeth the Preacher'; and '"I feel like I have been here before"'.
end
" Carry on" by Steven Stills, in " "
'Nothing is new under the sun' from Ecclesiastes in my dusty bible. in ' '
"'Deja vu"' by David Crosby, in '" '"
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
"Rejoice, rejoice we have no choice but to carry on."
So sings Crosby, Stills,Nash and Young on the Deja Vu album.
The world is very full of strife, violence, fighting, posturing and dirty deeds this morning. Little Wars in so many places. The usual places but threatening to spread everywhere. Ambitious people are very busy expanding their will to power over others.
Worse our elected leaders are doing an especially bad job lately. They have no credibility at all.
"One morning I woke up and I knew it all." ---Can we teach wisdom?
Eventually one is tempted to turn off the news, take the eyes from the stock ticker and head out into the pasture to tend to the horses and rake manure and shovel it in a wheelbarrow to dump on the flowers and plants to nurture new growth.
Ah life. What does it mean? and does it signify anything? Sometimes it is so absurd to fret over the eternal suffering of the folly of mankind. Better to talk with the horses here on the suburban ranch.
Hopefully no children will be hurt by bombs and rockets fired around the world today. Other than that I mind to my own affairs.
'Nothing is new under the Sun sayeth the Preacher'; and '"I feel like I have been here before"'.
end
" Carry on" by Steven Stills, in " "
'Nothing is new under the sun' from Ecclesiastes in my dusty bible. in ' '
"'Deja vu"' by David Crosby, in '" '"
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
my special candle
my special candle
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
You said you saved that candle that you lit that night for me,
special, in your dresser drawer,
although you did not know me before then, when you had saved the candle,
saved the candle through times you being an innocent young girl,
but pursued,
then being the night special that you lit the candle for us,
at least you saved it, the special candle; for the me unknown to you,
before then when you lit the candle for me, myself,
you wanting the candle to burn special when lit,
course,
I don't know now if I believe what you said then or actually if I could believe you ever,
that is believe what you said, now or then, after what happened later than that candle being lit for us,
much later, after then,
much later, after,
no more us,
still it was romantic,
you in your head to toe pink sheer peignoir and me propped up in bed on one elbow there in the second floor apartment;
I said you were the most beautiful woman I ever espied;
still I don't know if I believe what I said before,
when the special candle was burning,
casting a special light there in the apartment,
you in your pink peignoir,
and me thinking I could be the only one,
me saying,
I would never forget you.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
You said you saved that candle that you lit that night for me,
special, in your dresser drawer,
although you did not know me before then, when you had saved the candle,
saved the candle through times you being an innocent young girl,
but pursued,
then being the night special that you lit the candle for us,
at least you saved it, the special candle; for the me unknown to you,
before then when you lit the candle for me, myself,
you wanting the candle to burn special when lit,
course,
I don't know now if I believe what you said then or actually if I could believe you ever,
that is believe what you said, now or then, after what happened later than that candle being lit for us,
much later, after then,
much later, after,
no more us,
still it was romantic,
you in your head to toe pink sheer peignoir and me propped up in bed on one elbow there in the second floor apartment;
I said you were the most beautiful woman I ever espied;
still I don't know if I believe what I said before,
when the special candle was burning,
casting a special light there in the apartment,
you in your pink peignoir,
and me thinking I could be the only one,
me saying,
I would never forget you.
teaching on the American frontier
teaching on the American frontier
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A couple times a month on payday one of the board members will stop by to tell me there is no money to pay me at this time. Then several families will bring me a chicken, or a skinned raccoon, or two dozen rotten apples.
Teaching on the American frontier here in Kansas in 1851; I should have packed up last year and went to the California gold rush. Hit or miss I would have been away from here.
Everyone in Kansas fights and fusses over slavery. Hell, we are the slaves. Everyone in the territory works from sun-up to sun down and still the soil is broiled brick.
A well heeled Kansas citizen has a house built of sod. It stinks of cow manure and the walls dissolve in an infrequent rain before your eyes as you cower in fear of dust storms and tornados.
These farmers hit their children and the boys come in with black eyes and the girls won't look anyone in the eye.
Someday Kansas will be a great State and someday teaching will be a respected and well paying profession I hear. Me, for now, I should have went on to California and stole land from the Spanish or dug for Gold.
Any where but Kansas territory for me.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A couple times a month on payday one of the board members will stop by to tell me there is no money to pay me at this time. Then several families will bring me a chicken, or a skinned raccoon, or two dozen rotten apples.
Teaching on the American frontier here in Kansas in 1851; I should have packed up last year and went to the California gold rush. Hit or miss I would have been away from here.
Everyone in Kansas fights and fusses over slavery. Hell, we are the slaves. Everyone in the territory works from sun-up to sun down and still the soil is broiled brick.
A well heeled Kansas citizen has a house built of sod. It stinks of cow manure and the walls dissolve in an infrequent rain before your eyes as you cower in fear of dust storms and tornados.
These farmers hit their children and the boys come in with black eyes and the girls won't look anyone in the eye.
Someday Kansas will be a great State and someday teaching will be a respected and well paying profession I hear. Me, for now, I should have went on to California and stole land from the Spanish or dug for Gold.
Any where but Kansas territory for me.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
us on a diet
us on a diet
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Time to time we all find ourselves facing the need to diet.
Dieting means everyone has advice for you on your poor eating habits and the proper mix of foods to easily lose the pounds. When it comes to you losing weight everyone is an expert and everyone has perfect willpower and enviable habits of restraint.
Since I need to lose weight to improve my heart's function I have been reading " Prevent and reverse Heart disease" by Dr. Caldwell Ellelstyn. His recommended diet for me? No meat, no cheese or dairy, no nuts, no eggs, no oils, including no olive oil and limit the fruit, fruit has too much sugar. The good news- raw vegetables are pretty much unlimited, except avocados which happens to be my favorite now days because of marketing efforts by the avocado marketing lobbyists. This diet is stricter than my daughter's vegan diet that I couldn't follow because of my weak will.
What's the best diet? Well for me it involves as few thou shall not's as possible and instead preaches moderation. I can eat most anything I want but I watch the calories carefully and have just a little bit infrequently of fatty foods, fried foods and try to never be too full. Oh yeah, limit severely beer intake. That's a tough one.
To date I have lost fifteen pounds since my heart problems induced by playing racquetball at too advanced of an age when I needed to lose thirty pounds. Yes,- I still need to lose fifteen more pounds, which I plan to do by eating moderately, watching the calories and being grateful just to be alive for a few more years.
Motivation to lose weight? Sometimes motivation is thrust upon us.
Here's to us on a diet. - - - Pass the carrot sticks.- - - Life is a party you know.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Time to time we all find ourselves facing the need to diet.
Dieting means everyone has advice for you on your poor eating habits and the proper mix of foods to easily lose the pounds. When it comes to you losing weight everyone is an expert and everyone has perfect willpower and enviable habits of restraint.
Since I need to lose weight to improve my heart's function I have been reading " Prevent and reverse Heart disease" by Dr. Caldwell Ellelstyn. His recommended diet for me? No meat, no cheese or dairy, no nuts, no eggs, no oils, including no olive oil and limit the fruit, fruit has too much sugar. The good news- raw vegetables are pretty much unlimited, except avocados which happens to be my favorite now days because of marketing efforts by the avocado marketing lobbyists. This diet is stricter than my daughter's vegan diet that I couldn't follow because of my weak will.
What's the best diet? Well for me it involves as few thou shall not's as possible and instead preaches moderation. I can eat most anything I want but I watch the calories carefully and have just a little bit infrequently of fatty foods, fried foods and try to never be too full. Oh yeah, limit severely beer intake. That's a tough one.
To date I have lost fifteen pounds since my heart problems induced by playing racquetball at too advanced of an age when I needed to lose thirty pounds. Yes,- I still need to lose fifteen more pounds, which I plan to do by eating moderately, watching the calories and being grateful just to be alive for a few more years.
Motivation to lose weight? Sometimes motivation is thrust upon us.
Here's to us on a diet. - - - Pass the carrot sticks.- - - Life is a party you know.
Sunday, July 6, 2014
the Judge has her first satori
The Judge
Her First Satori
fiction
edward w Pritchard
repost/ one edit
The Judge was a tough cookie. That was the polite way to describe the woman and often worse was said. She was however, formidable and for twelve years had ran the local divorce court with vigor. Our area was failing in the race of world wide economic development and nearby cities were absorbing our jobs and far away peoples were benefiting at our expense. Divorce in our area was a contrary indicator of our success and business was booming. The Judge ruled over the busy divorce court and managed the staff and routed the customers and directed the Attorneys day in and out and that area of local government functioned admirably well.
The Judge was rushing to a budget meeting at a local school where she served as a paid outside director of the local school system. She had ran over at her last hearing because the two male Attorneys had been posturing in front of their new wealthy clients and she had mismanaged her morning schedule because of them. The Judge was put off with herself for not being more firm and efficient with the two Attorneys. Her mismanagement of that one 15 minute status hearing had thrown off her schedule for the entire day and she was now going to be a few minutes late for a meeting, something she did not often allow her self the luxury to do.
Entering the second hallway of the school near the office the Judge saw six students in wheelchairs entering an elevator. There were two older woman with the six handicapped junior high students and they were pushing a couple of the students who had multiple handicaps onto the elevators. A few of the students had expensive heavy electric motored self moving wheel chairs that they were slumped in but operating the controls to power. One of the women assisting the students was holding with one hand as she pushed a wheelchair with her other hand, a medical IV of some sort for one of the students.
The shock of seeing a student at a public school going to class with a medical IV was jolting and overwhelming to the Judge. She knew this school from coming and going to other meetings here over the last few months and knew in about fifteen minutes the halls would be crammed with dashing excited children racing to class.
There was a small auditorium toward the back of the school and the Judge was sitting slumped near the stage quietly crying when the janitor heard and noticed her. After a few minutes he took her a small very cold plastic bottle of orange juice which she drank before she went to her budget meeting in the front portion of the building.
Her First Satori
fiction
edward w Pritchard
repost/ one edit
The Judge was a tough cookie. That was the polite way to describe the woman and often worse was said. She was however, formidable and for twelve years had ran the local divorce court with vigor. Our area was failing in the race of world wide economic development and nearby cities were absorbing our jobs and far away peoples were benefiting at our expense. Divorce in our area was a contrary indicator of our success and business was booming. The Judge ruled over the busy divorce court and managed the staff and routed the customers and directed the Attorneys day in and out and that area of local government functioned admirably well.
The Judge was rushing to a budget meeting at a local school where she served as a paid outside director of the local school system. She had ran over at her last hearing because the two male Attorneys had been posturing in front of their new wealthy clients and she had mismanaged her morning schedule because of them. The Judge was put off with herself for not being more firm and efficient with the two Attorneys. Her mismanagement of that one 15 minute status hearing had thrown off her schedule for the entire day and she was now going to be a few minutes late for a meeting, something she did not often allow her self the luxury to do.
Entering the second hallway of the school near the office the Judge saw six students in wheelchairs entering an elevator. There were two older woman with the six handicapped junior high students and they were pushing a couple of the students who had multiple handicaps onto the elevators. A few of the students had expensive heavy electric motored self moving wheel chairs that they were slumped in but operating the controls to power. One of the women assisting the students was holding with one hand as she pushed a wheelchair with her other hand, a medical IV of some sort for one of the students.
The shock of seeing a student at a public school going to class with a medical IV was jolting and overwhelming to the Judge. She knew this school from coming and going to other meetings here over the last few months and knew in about fifteen minutes the halls would be crammed with dashing excited children racing to class.
There was a small auditorium toward the back of the school and the Judge was sitting slumped near the stage quietly crying when the janitor heard and noticed her. After a few minutes he took her a small very cold plastic bottle of orange juice which she drank before she went to her budget meeting in the front portion of the building.
call and response; how to reach out to others before facebook and twitter
call and response; how to reach out to others before facebook and twitter were available
fiction
edward w pritchard
BB King sits heavily in a chair at the 2010 Crossroads festival and guitar heroes Eric Clapton, Robert Cray and Jimmie Vaughn reach out with a brief solo on " Thrill is Gone" to honor BB King. BB responds as he listens like a proud Father hearing and seeing his beloved children again. See it on you tube BB King Cross roads 2010 " thrill is gone".
Call and response; how to reach out to others before facebook and twitter.
I see on the yahoo social news that all humans share a common aversion to things coming toward them; a fear we keep from long ago to protect us from predators. Yet how thrilling is it when the thing coming toward us is a friend of our clan we recognize. So much the better if a clan member not seen or conversed with in a long while.
Like embers in a dieing fire touched by a swift wind; after the " thrill is gone" a familiar step, tread of heavy footfalls of a forgotten friend, heard again native voice and rediscovered nod or a recalled smile brightens a cautious lonely life and chases away fears and blues.
fiction
edward w pritchard
BB King sits heavily in a chair at the 2010 Crossroads festival and guitar heroes Eric Clapton, Robert Cray and Jimmie Vaughn reach out with a brief solo on " Thrill is Gone" to honor BB King. BB responds as he listens like a proud Father hearing and seeing his beloved children again. See it on you tube BB King Cross roads 2010 " thrill is gone".
Call and response; how to reach out to others before facebook and twitter.
I see on the yahoo social news that all humans share a common aversion to things coming toward them; a fear we keep from long ago to protect us from predators. Yet how thrilling is it when the thing coming toward us is a friend of our clan we recognize. So much the better if a clan member not seen or conversed with in a long while.
Like embers in a dieing fire touched by a swift wind; after the " thrill is gone" a familiar step, tread of heavy footfalls of a forgotten friend, heard again native voice and rediscovered nod or a recalled smile brightens a cautious lonely life and chases away fears and blues.
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Adolph Hitler takes a personal day under a temporary persona
Adolph Hitler takes a personal day under a temporary persona
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Lost secrets of History; Adolph Hitler the great actor
Sometimes Adolph Hitler needed a personal day when he lived for free at the settlement house for near homeless men there in Vienna in 1908 under the benevolence of a rich Jewish family, the Rothschild's. Adolph read at the boarding house for men , painted post cards and occasionally visited the opera where he saw the same performances over and over for as many as twenty times if an opera moved him.
Though he lived as a near penniless misanthropic vagrant Adolph Hitler secretly had money hidden away that he had inherited when his beloved Mother died.
And although he looked meek and ordinary living there in Vienna Austria in 1908 Secretly Adolph was a world class actor capable of assuming many a persona and totally living the roll able to convince anyone and everybody he was someone else other than a meek homeless nobody.
Adolph would count out a pile of money, carefully put it in his sock and head for the train station about once a month. It was his personal day to escape his drab life there in Vienna.
Sometimes Adolph would travel on his personal day under the persona of a very wealthy politician able to influence world events and able to devise policies to change all of Europe. As he traveled on his personal day first class by train Adolph the introvert would become charming and convincing, a great orator who could talk and converse with the other wealthy travelers about the problems plaguing Europe in 1908. He was well liked by the other first class travelers and well listened to, a good companion for a day's train trip. Adolph listened to and learned and remembered what the wealthy thought, learned their fears and noted their prejudices.
After a short ride around Austria on the train Adolph would return to the boardinghouse for Men, to the coughing vagrants, the house rules, and the religious sermons to bide his time. Adolph knew some day he would be important.
end
Adolph Hitler/ part 2
world war one 1914- 1918
Adolph ceases to fear battle
fiction
edward w pritchard
All the new recruits were fearful and afraid of what might happen in the upcoming battle except Adolph.
All the recruits saw themselves laying on the field of battle dead, with twisted facial expressions and arms and legs flying in unnatural positions; except Adolph.
After the last ten years, in Vienna Adolph couldn't care, he had ceased to fear death, waiting only his deliverer, the quiet mailman who would one day bring him his blessing, a reprieve from his suffering. For secretly, Adolph could not be fearful of the various battles the German army faced whether, Adolph's unit won the battle, lost the battle or didn't fight at all. Adolph was indifferent to it all and if today he was in the army, it filled his time properly and was for him something to do while he waited; his duty was as good as anything to pursue for the time being while he waited for the quiet mailman to deliver his invitation to the causatum.
Doing his duty as a message runner on the front lines in the German army; Adolph Hitler was sure he was protected from the shells and bullets by God who had big things in store for the humble corporal.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Lost secrets of History; Adolph Hitler the great actor
Sometimes Adolph Hitler needed a personal day when he lived for free at the settlement house for near homeless men there in Vienna in 1908 under the benevolence of a rich Jewish family, the Rothschild's. Adolph read at the boarding house for men , painted post cards and occasionally visited the opera where he saw the same performances over and over for as many as twenty times if an opera moved him.
Though he lived as a near penniless misanthropic vagrant Adolph Hitler secretly had money hidden away that he had inherited when his beloved Mother died.
And although he looked meek and ordinary living there in Vienna Austria in 1908 Secretly Adolph was a world class actor capable of assuming many a persona and totally living the roll able to convince anyone and everybody he was someone else other than a meek homeless nobody.
Adolph would count out a pile of money, carefully put it in his sock and head for the train station about once a month. It was his personal day to escape his drab life there in Vienna.
Sometimes Adolph would travel on his personal day under the persona of a very wealthy politician able to influence world events and able to devise policies to change all of Europe. As he traveled on his personal day first class by train Adolph the introvert would become charming and convincing, a great orator who could talk and converse with the other wealthy travelers about the problems plaguing Europe in 1908. He was well liked by the other first class travelers and well listened to, a good companion for a day's train trip. Adolph listened to and learned and remembered what the wealthy thought, learned their fears and noted their prejudices.
After a short ride around Austria on the train Adolph would return to the boardinghouse for Men, to the coughing vagrants, the house rules, and the religious sermons to bide his time. Adolph knew some day he would be important.
end
Adolph Hitler/ part 2
world war one 1914- 1918
Adolph ceases to fear battle
fiction
edward w pritchard
All the new recruits were fearful and afraid of what might happen in the upcoming battle except Adolph.
All the recruits saw themselves laying on the field of battle dead, with twisted facial expressions and arms and legs flying in unnatural positions; except Adolph.
After the last ten years, in Vienna Adolph couldn't care, he had ceased to fear death, waiting only his deliverer, the quiet mailman who would one day bring him his blessing, a reprieve from his suffering. For secretly, Adolph could not be fearful of the various battles the German army faced whether, Adolph's unit won the battle, lost the battle or didn't fight at all. Adolph was indifferent to it all and if today he was in the army, it filled his time properly and was for him something to do while he waited; his duty was as good as anything to pursue for the time being while he waited for the quiet mailman to deliver his invitation to the causatum.
Doing his duty as a message runner on the front lines in the German army; Adolph Hitler was sure he was protected from the shells and bullets by God who had big things in store for the humble corporal.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
unusual pairings part 2 stevie ray vaugh and brother Jimmie play pipeline on a double neck guitar
unusual pairings part 2 Stevie Ray Vaugh and brother Jimmie play "pipeline" on a double neck guitar
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Unusual pairings on you tube; Stevie Ray Vaugh and brother Jimmie play " Pipeline" on a double neck guitar. Sometimes a man needs a little help from a Brother.
Stevie Ray a dynamo of explosive talent and energy gets a hand from his Brother to do what no man can do alone, play the double neck guitar as a solo.
Keep the relationship with your Brother sincere; you never know when you might need help playing a double neck guitar live in concert at the Mardi Gras heritage festival back in 1987.
Stevie Ray Vaugh gets a hand from his Brother Jimmie, an unusual pairing live on you tube. Check it out.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Unusual pairings on you tube; Stevie Ray Vaugh and brother Jimmie play " Pipeline" on a double neck guitar. Sometimes a man needs a little help from a Brother.
Stevie Ray a dynamo of explosive talent and energy gets a hand from his Brother to do what no man can do alone, play the double neck guitar as a solo.
Keep the relationship with your Brother sincere; you never know when you might need help playing a double neck guitar live in concert at the Mardi Gras heritage festival back in 1987.
Stevie Ray Vaugh gets a hand from his Brother Jimmie, an unusual pairing live on you tube. Check it out.
angry words hang in the air forever
angry words hang in the air forever
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Eventually something is said that breaks the jar and the intentions and reservations are all shattered. Then it is over.
No more is anything sacred, everything becomes relative which means not really special or important. First attempt at honest communications has occurred but angry words hang in the air forever.
The Rubicon has been crossed by another. Something dies as another horseman wades across an inconsequential stream leaving shattered illusions dashed in the current. Then it is over the rest of the way.
"free, free now, I am free from your spell, now that's it's all over, all I can do is wish you well"
lyrics attributed to BB King and others, " the thrill is gone"
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Eventually something is said that breaks the jar and the intentions and reservations are all shattered. Then it is over.
No more is anything sacred, everything becomes relative which means not really special or important. First attempt at honest communications has occurred but angry words hang in the air forever.
The Rubicon has been crossed by another. Something dies as another horseman wades across an inconsequential stream leaving shattered illusions dashed in the current. Then it is over the rest of the way.
"free, free now, I am free from your spell, now that's it's all over, all I can do is wish you well"
lyrics attributed to BB King and others, " the thrill is gone"
riding fences with a blank mind and a soulless disposition
riding fences with a blank mind and a soulless disposition
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Sometimes its harder to be the one who stays home at the family homestead and tends to the business of life than to be the one who heads off West. West toward the Manifest destiny of loneliness.
Just ride fences with a blank mind and a soulless disposition. The sunsets drip with loneliness and nights alone wake you at 3:07 AM cold from too much space in the bed and no tightness in the bedroll.
Riding fences fills up the gaps of eternity in the engine of time. It's heavy work patching the fabric of the past with forgetfulness.
It takes a stout nature but the work is no chore. It's just what you do. Sometimes the Mind is blank but usually a melody drifts across the head but the words are gone. There's no one to dedicate a love song to and mysterious unmet strangers turn out to talk too much in the wrong voice spoiling the duet.
Stretch the arms wide and clutch the barbed wired fences toward together. Hold the nail between the teeth while you align two separated pieces of fencing so they meet but don't quite touch. Put a rusted crooked nail to hold things in place but forever apart with no compassion. Pound with one hand on the hammer while straining to hold onto to the other half of the fence tensely silent with stubborn resistance.
Watch the stars shoot across the sky the rest of the night. It's just rocky debris of unformed pieces of space process flashing brightly momentary across the vision of your forgiven awareness.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Sometimes its harder to be the one who stays home at the family homestead and tends to the business of life than to be the one who heads off West. West toward the Manifest destiny of loneliness.
Just ride fences with a blank mind and a soulless disposition. The sunsets drip with loneliness and nights alone wake you at 3:07 AM cold from too much space in the bed and no tightness in the bedroll.
Riding fences fills up the gaps of eternity in the engine of time. It's heavy work patching the fabric of the past with forgetfulness.
It takes a stout nature but the work is no chore. It's just what you do. Sometimes the Mind is blank but usually a melody drifts across the head but the words are gone. There's no one to dedicate a love song to and mysterious unmet strangers turn out to talk too much in the wrong voice spoiling the duet.
Stretch the arms wide and clutch the barbed wired fences toward together. Hold the nail between the teeth while you align two separated pieces of fencing so they meet but don't quite touch. Put a rusted crooked nail to hold things in place but forever apart with no compassion. Pound with one hand on the hammer while straining to hold onto to the other half of the fence tensely silent with stubborn resistance.
Watch the stars shoot across the sky the rest of the night. It's just rocky debris of unformed pieces of space process flashing brightly momentary across the vision of your forgiven awareness.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Beatrice had the look; that special look that was remembered and inspired poetry and song
Beatrice had the look; that special look that was remembered and inspired poetry and song
fiction
edward w Pritchard
Some women are memorable. Across the years their look inspire poetry and song
Beatrice had the look.
Walking as an eight year old girl not on a runway in Milan but on the crowded streets of 13th century Florence, Italy Beatrice captured Dante's imagination and inspired one hundred million future lovers through Dante's promotion of courtly love in his writing.
Dante seldom comments on his Beatrice's mere physical appearance preferring to keep it mystical, about her emerald eyes and calling her his lord who came to him in his dreams.
At their second meeting when Beatrice was eighteen and Dante nineteen, Beatrice greets Dante briefly and decorously and perhaps with a coy smile inspires eventually the Divine Comedy one of the seminal works in World literature.
By age twenty four Beatrice is dead, leaving her husband, not Dante, to grieve, but Dante to glorify dead Beatrice perhaps as his Muse and special love forever through his writing.
There's a small solemn chapel in Florence where Dante first clapped his eyes on Beatrice and Dante's Bice's influence has been significant.
More than a woman but a little less than a goddess. Beatrice had the look that is memorable across the ages, a look that inspired poetry and song.
fiction
edward w Pritchard
Some women are memorable. Across the years their look inspire poetry and song
Beatrice had the look.
Walking as an eight year old girl not on a runway in Milan but on the crowded streets of 13th century Florence, Italy Beatrice captured Dante's imagination and inspired one hundred million future lovers through Dante's promotion of courtly love in his writing.
Dante seldom comments on his Beatrice's mere physical appearance preferring to keep it mystical, about her emerald eyes and calling her his lord who came to him in his dreams.
At their second meeting when Beatrice was eighteen and Dante nineteen, Beatrice greets Dante briefly and decorously and perhaps with a coy smile inspires eventually the Divine Comedy one of the seminal works in World literature.
By age twenty four Beatrice is dead, leaving her husband, not Dante, to grieve, but Dante to glorify dead Beatrice perhaps as his Muse and special love forever through his writing.
There's a small solemn chapel in Florence where Dante first clapped his eyes on Beatrice and Dante's Bice's influence has been significant.
More than a woman but a little less than a goddess. Beatrice had the look that is memorable across the ages, a look that inspired poetry and song.
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Dingle County annual one day fair
Dingle County annual one day fair
fiction
edward w pritchard
Set up and shut down had to be done the same day at the Dingle County annual one day fair for there was a lot of work to do at home and around the farms the other 364 days of the year.
Children called shut down time tear up time because a year was a long time to wait to go from booth to booth to see what each family had grown on their farm to sell, like sweet grape and chicory pie sold for 30 cents a slice by Mrs. Porter or miniature pictures of Reverend Davis playing blues piano in St Louis as a young man. .
Women and older teenage girls called tearing down the booths and the concession stands tear up time because it would be a long time before they could stand with their friends again and talk and talk or watch Shuty Mc Donald with his shirt off bend an iron bar onto a pretzel.
Grown Men at the Dingle County fair weren't much help to their wives during shut down because the Bekerman's the Mennoite family who were a little standoffish always sold spiked corn mash as a " Spring Tonic" and the sheriff always waited to late afternoon to put his finger in the crock and roll his eyes and wink at one of the Bekerman boys laddling out the sauce.
This year I knew what everyone meant about calling the end of the Spring Fair tear down time when the booths were dismantled and packed into old trucks and station wagons till next year. I saw Claudia Benson with Bobbi Guyt in his new Marine's uniform strolling around from stall to stall with his hand and arm around the lowest part of her waist. Old Reverend Davis knew just how I was feeling and played me a special song or two mixed in among the religious pieces he always played there at the Davis family booth at our County Fair. Mostly I just stood with the Davis family and listened to Reverend play.
It's been sixty eight years since I had spring tonic or chicory pie but many an early morning I wake thinking of Claudia.
end
to my critic- yes, this is a reworking of the " jilting of Granny Weatherall" by Katherine Porter who I wrote about a few blogs back under " looking up Katherine Porter's skirts" meaning I have finally acquired some secret wisdom about women.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Set up and shut down had to be done the same day at the Dingle County annual one day fair for there was a lot of work to do at home and around the farms the other 364 days of the year.
Children called shut down time tear up time because a year was a long time to wait to go from booth to booth to see what each family had grown on their farm to sell, like sweet grape and chicory pie sold for 30 cents a slice by Mrs. Porter or miniature pictures of Reverend Davis playing blues piano in St Louis as a young man. .
Women and older teenage girls called tearing down the booths and the concession stands tear up time because it would be a long time before they could stand with their friends again and talk and talk or watch Shuty Mc Donald with his shirt off bend an iron bar onto a pretzel.
Grown Men at the Dingle County fair weren't much help to their wives during shut down because the Bekerman's the Mennoite family who were a little standoffish always sold spiked corn mash as a " Spring Tonic" and the sheriff always waited to late afternoon to put his finger in the crock and roll his eyes and wink at one of the Bekerman boys laddling out the sauce.
This year I knew what everyone meant about calling the end of the Spring Fair tear down time when the booths were dismantled and packed into old trucks and station wagons till next year. I saw Claudia Benson with Bobbi Guyt in his new Marine's uniform strolling around from stall to stall with his hand and arm around the lowest part of her waist. Old Reverend Davis knew just how I was feeling and played me a special song or two mixed in among the religious pieces he always played there at the Davis family booth at our County Fair. Mostly I just stood with the Davis family and listened to Reverend play.
It's been sixty eight years since I had spring tonic or chicory pie but many an early morning I wake thinking of Claudia.
end
to my critic- yes, this is a reworking of the " jilting of Granny Weatherall" by Katherine Porter who I wrote about a few blogs back under " looking up Katherine Porter's skirts" meaning I have finally acquired some secret wisdom about women.
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