A.G.E's Joint

"It would be that we are all OK..." The line came out of the blue as Jack looked out into the snow flecked night.  The inside of the taxi smelled of curry. In the old days when he drove, it was sauerkraut or beer. That was a long time ago. Had he been a coward for leaving so long ago? No. Was it unkind? No. It would have been worse to be the aider and abetter. The end was predetermined when she dropped out of school, starting the ripples that have now made it to shore. Jack's therapist referred to it as a Butterfly Effect. He wasn't sure.   So many bridges burned. Some things haven't changed. Midway is still a dirty dump in the middle of the slums. He got hit up four times by bums before he even made it to the taxi stand. The human wreckage of fate and bad decisions. Who is he kidding? Everyone makes bad decisions. It was why took the last plane out of Phoenix.  What was the verse?                      ...

Not quite. There still is the Board approval and all that. Will he turn the platform into his Bully Pulpit, demonizing everyone who criticizes Him? Too early to tell. But a rewatch of Citizen Kane is warranted.  [Edit] Maybe it isn't happening at all.

Images flashed in and out of his vision, Mother and then the policemen.   He wasn’t completely sure if he was awake or in one of his nightmares. Scenes in sepia tones, like an old photograph. Mother in her high collared blouse, dour and lifeless as a dead rose.   Jackson is across the room pounding on the table Murray pulls his hair and they are both laughing. Pigs enjoy humiliation.   The ground began   to rotate like a mechanical stage and a new point of view began.    Murray is approaching an area with crime scene tape around it. Jackson hails him over to a pile sitting on the sidewalk.   There is an old car just before the area. Jeremy waits as he gets closer and closer…. An acute pain broke through the dream, a stray sunbeam reflecting off the table knife and directly in the left eye.   Moaning, he raises his hand to block the intrusion. His head is leaden.   Jacking the chin up with his right hand, he is vaguely aware of the a...

Jeremy had about the same amount of luck finding the lock on the door as he did the car. Steadying himself on the door frame, the key was willed in and turned.   He stumbled over the mail. “I get mail, therefore I am, ” seemed to come from the darkness. He didn’t say that, must have been one of the voices.   They get restless like that when he hasn’t slept.   Moving across the room by instinct, he missed the small sofa and coffee table.   He found his way into the kitchen and turned on the light.   The institutional white walls hurt his eyes.   A few molded dishes were still in their places from when he left this morning.   Prescription bottles are lined up like toy soldiers on the kitchen counter, waiting to be played with. He couldn’t remember when he took them last. He didn’t care. It was another way to tweak the noses of the controlling pigs, just don’t play their mind control games. A small clock radio sat next to bottles. The sca...

I don't carry cash. The reason for this is my wife doesn't trust me not to spend on frivolous stuff like candy and beer.  She's cheap like that.  But, I don't mind.  That attitude has kept me out of debt (mostly) and better able to handle the shifts in business and life. But occasionally it puts me in a quandary.  Last night, we ordered a pizza and I went down to Chambodia to pick it up.  As I was leaving, I was approached by homeless woman looking for change.  I put up my hands and told her I didn't have any and she went on her way. As I said this, I got a good look at her face.  She had been pretty once. Petite and slender, her blonde hair put up on her head in a messy knot.  I saw the ravages of Methamphetamine all over her face.  As as she walked away, I felt a tinge of regret.  I knew in my heart any money would immediately go to the dealer for another 48 hours without sleep.  But I also knew she needed something or someo...