A.G.E's Joint

I sit Silent witness to romance. To joy and heartache. The Princesses come alone, And with their betrothed.  I bet they were ugly When they were frogs. Picture: (c) 2013 Dave Raider, Northfiield MN USA.  Used with permission.   

" For homicide detectives, the clock starts ticking the moment they are called. Their chance of solving a murder is cut in half if they don't get a lead within the first 48 hours. " “Memphis, Tennessee 1:30 A.M.”  {Long shot of a full moon over the Mississippi River} “It’s a humid July night on Beale St and the clubs are singing the summertime blues.   The roosting birds on a wire scatter when a scream comes from on the sidewalk…”                 [rinnngggg…] “Shelby County 911.    What is your emergency?” “There is a dead body lying in the doorway.   I think we’re gonna need the police.” “They are on their way…” [Cut to the interior of a car.   A youngish, short haired woman driving]   “Just sat down to eat dinner when I got this call.”    “Sergeant Penny Farthing, a ten year veteran of the homicid...

I was looking at Pam Stone's Facebook page earlier this week working a young mare.  It got me thinking about something that happened when I was about six or seven years old. We lived in a subdivision in the North Buckhead area of Atlanta.  This was in the mid 1960's and beyond our street the area was mostly small horse farms, with a few cows interspersed here and there.  There was a creek and an abandoned rock quarry.  In other words, lots of places for a kid to get lost in and have adventure.    One morning during the Spring, my mother was cleaning up the kitchen after everyone had left the house.  Given there four kids and a husband living there at the time, this was not a small task. I was home sick from school, so she had me to deal with, too.  She is finishing up the sink when the phone rings.  With a cuss, she picks the receiver off the wall.  It is Mrs. Rowan, our next door neighbor. "Teeny!  Have you looked outside your ...

Who is in? Who is out? Who has the gold decides. Tolerate? Expunge? Only flattering things? Why, yes. And those who disagree Down the memory hole They are scum Dirt ready to be scrubbed Cleansed from modern society And who has the gold decides.

Crescent moon over Primeval palmetto grove Brow beaded with sweat On this mid July night Stepping off Kilkenny Ferry She waits Past or future? Real or dream? Questions rise From rum and percocet And fear Ovaline pendant glows Between non existent breasts A young old woman Dancing circles to a silent melody. Parrying around an ancient oak, Spiraling downward Her face reflecting the pale moon Passing together Neither willing to concede The losing race. Touching ignites frenzy Modesty and civility Vanish into thin air Arms reach toward Heaven Minds race toward Hell. As the consummation plays Waking alone when the sun rises Dissolved in passion She plays among the stars In the deep memory of time. Picture- (c) Christopher H. Mitchell, Atlanta, GA, USA, 2005, 2013.

"Rrrriinggg.  Rrrriinnngg." "Hello.  This is Chris Mitchell.  How may I help you?" "Arrrggh.  'tis Scurvy Jack of Blackbeard Recovery, callin' about 'cher loan." "Excuse me?  Loan? I have no loan." "Aye, Lad, you do.  Captain said you took eighteen Doubloons from him to pay bar at The Chart House last fortnight.  He was the one legged man with the parrot." "The Chart House?  Never heard of the place.  Where might it be?" "Nassau Town, Sir." "This must be just your imagination, my friend.  I haven't been to Nassau in many years.  Landlubber I am." "Nay, Lad.  The Captain said you had come in soaked with a sheep.  Said somethin' about you winnin' a race but not receivin' da winnin's. You have a ponytail, Sir?" "No, I don.  This is silly, Mr. Scurvy.  I live over 700 miles from the Bahamas and it's too hot for sheep there." "Arrgh...

I am convinced the computer system at work is a woman.  Every month she cramps up and refuses to work without electric Midol and Chocolate. Does anyone else think Progressive Flo is just a human used tampon? Alex Rodriguez is fighting his suspension from baseball.  Why?  Just retire and go away.  You've already ruined your body, your reputation and any good thing about you. On the same subject: other teams seem to be doing fine without juicing.  Like the Braves. Is Obama worse than Bush?  They have the same owner, so I can't really tell. "The SKY is falling!" says the Chicken Little Network.  No, it isn't.  It's just the more extreme of the crazies has not taken their medication. 

One of the things I learned the hard way was that it doesn't pay to get discouraged. Keeping busy and making optimism a way of life can restore your faith in yourself. with the pink poodle skirt  doing the macerena.- Courtesy, Kim Herndon-Ft Drum, NY About ten years ago, I took a week off of work to be a Counselor/Den Leader at a Cub Scout day camp in Gwinnett County, about 20 miles from my home. With 120 boys registered, this was the largest assembly of scouts I had been to up to that point.   I was assigned to lead a Bear (9 year old) den that my older son was in.  My younger son was six and assigned to a Tiger Den that he ended up liking. It was one of the more challenging assignments I had ever done.In this crew, I only knew my son. I had eleven 9 and 10 year old boys, two of them certified ADHD, and I had one day to mold them into a semi cohesive unit that could work together without the death of me or some of the boys. At my home pack, I had known all the b...