Echos of Kindness

I’m a sap at heart.  Well, sometimes.  Usually I’m stopped in my tracks when the universe reminds me I have left a small dent in it for the better.

Thunderhead and I rolled into the parking lot behind the apartment building a little after 1:00 Sunday morning after an enthusiastic night of board games.  As I’m lumbering up to my garage door, I see a small kitty dart out of one of the open garages and hide under the truck parked two stalls down from mine.  It’s not unusual to have a stray or two around.   I mean, Mamma kitty and Seamus were never domesticated, and I can only imagine they’re out being fruitful and multiplying.  We’ve started seeing Mamma more these days since she’s expecting again, and the garages offer a little more warmth and protection to her.  

History From the Rumbleseat

I've been sparring with effort of writing a short piece of historical fiction about the B.B. Cooper hijacking in 1971 for the last 18 months or so.  It's been slow going.  I had this amazing spark of creativity right out of the gate, but that has since fizzled, and I'm left snatching every sentence like it's the last creative sustenance I'll ever see.

However, that's given voice to a couple of other events I'd like to write a forgotten history for.  And, as you can imagine, the ones I have on the short list are weird, unexplained moments in time.  For example:

Once, When We Were Young - Vintage Ephemily Poetry

It may come as a shock to some of you, but I was once actually a virgin.  I may have been born a Scorpio, and tearing that hymen may have been a technicality, but there was once a time that I could only imaging what actual lovemaking was like.  

At 15, I met a boy that I was head over heels for.  I'll spare you the sappy details, but what stuck with me was what it felt like to fall in love and communicate on a level that most didn't at that age.  We were as inseparable as we could be.  The reality of that was though that we didn't get much time together, and "we" predated email and texting.  So, the time we did get was ambrosia.  I often spent time daydreaming about a sort of parallel universe where we had more of everything; freedom, time, choice.  I think that's where the poems below came from.

New Age Busker - Vintage Ephemily Poetry

When I was maybe 18, my family and I took a short trip out to Vail, Colorado during summer break.  Our family had a vacation condo there for many years, and I have a glut of fond memories of times spent in the mountains.  As we were walking around the familiar village, there was a younger man set up with an amplifier and a keyboard, playing his music to the passing tourists.  I went through a phase where I was really into new agey music.  Ray Lynch was perhaps one of the ones I latched on to the hardest.  This young man performing in the open air had a sound that transfixed me.  So, as my parents shopped, I sat and people watched while this long since-forgotten man performed.  This is what came of my observations that afternoon.

1 Order of Wedded Bliss. Please Drive Though.

"I now pronounce you, man and wife.  You may kiss your bride.  Well, if you can get around that gear shift with the commemorative NASCAR shifter there."

The gal in the hand me down wedding dress squealed and lunged across the front bench seats in her new husband's "chariot", knocking it out of gear.  They lurched forward, narrowly avoiding rolling into traffic.  The kid in the ill-fitting tuxedo with the stain on the shirt swore, pushed her off him, and threw the shifter into reverse.  He stopped an inch shy of the bumper on the car pulling in to take their place at the drive through window.  His answer to the resulting honk was a defiant middle finger out the driver's side window.  

After he engaged the brake and took the shambling car out of gear, he smoothed his vest and put a little more brylcreem on his comb to hold down his slicked back hair.  His new wife shot back across the seats to give his tonsils a tongue bath, messily smearing her lipstick across his teeth.  She had the back of his head in her hands, holding on as if he was the last source of oxygen on the planet.

That's when the officiant noticed her wedding band.  Or, what passed as one as it was a nail twisted into a crude circle.  

Train-Wreck Spotting Bingo

Anybody who has spent any amount of time on social network sites knows that you can find all walks of life among the users.  There's really no need to head to Walmart if you just want to people watch anymore, just log on!  Now, if only there was a way we could trivialize the schadenfreude. . .   Oh wait!  There is!

How To Read Porn on Public Transportation

With the popularity of erotic novels like 50 Shades of Gray being what it is, it might be time for a refresher course in how and where to enjoy your naughty novels.  For the purpose of this guide, we shall assume that you'd prefer not to broadcast the subject matter of your reading material by brandishing the full color glossy cover of "ass to mouth MILFs monthly".