A.G.E's Joint

How does the Spirit move you? How do you show it? Are the shining stars around? Are you a 10 year old boy in front of a black-and-white TV Way past your bedtime In a home that is not your own? Wondering if your parents care? Wondering if the world would stop? And you would not ride your bicycle Again. 55 years on The news is still about war. Still about atrocities Still about Man's inhumanity. And yet, it is good.

  He'd always been spiritual, constantly stopping to   reflect on his life and where he was going. Twenty years in L.A. had taught him a couple of things. Controlling all the events in your life just wasn't possible and misery couldn't be wished away. It crept up when he least expected it to. The business had often made him feel alone and afraid. Every project teetered on the edge of failing and there was little he could do about it. There was no family to support or to support him and he accepted that. But he plugged on. He was back in the mountains he visited so often in his youth, working as a script consultant for a project. The funding had been only approved in the last week and the Production team needed someone with experience in the area to reconcile plot inconsistencies. The director put him up in a house on Lake Chatuge not a quarter mile down the road from the church. On a whim, he decided to see it.  Memories of Homecomings past rushed forth. Stilted greetings,

 I have to admit, I was struggling this week. Mad for Plaid is not a fashion statement I have always followed. But when I started Googling, the Artificial Intelligence Gods brought me this: It makes you think of Balmoral Castle and how much of a marketing ploy the "culture" became.  Dressing up is still fun.  It's better than any of the "Pity is treason" themes I was working on. 

A couple of months ago, I went into my spare bedroom to get something out of the closet and I noticed a small brown spot on the baseboard molding. I reached down and everything along the floor was wet. On, no. It turned out I had a pinhole leak in a pipe going to my front outdoor spigot. I may have caused this problem because for the longest time, there was a hose that had seized to the threads and I tied (and failed) to use force to get it loose.  On inspection, the water was dripping from underneath the siding and flowing down toward the street.  I quickly called a plumber. Being the good company they are, they had a truck nearby and he was at the house in a couple of hours.  The hurry-up part? The pipe was fixed in about an hour. The slow-down part? I had water damage over a 4'X5' section of the wall and an unknown amount of the floor.                                          I received a referral to a company that could estimate the damage. I called and the representative

Walk down the driveway Usual bills and ads Except A small envelope FPO Eisenhower CV69  Inside Feminine scipt Standing watch on a dark sea Raging in the gentle night Scope and purpose Misinformation and no information Can she come home? Soon, Sweetheart Soon.

  In the call center outside Dallas TX... Rrring! Good Day to you and thank you for calling Devil's Quill, Gluttony Central. My name is Big Bertha. How may I help you? You want to gift your skinny sister a new body? Are you sure you don't want the Petty Jealousy division? You say she force fed you stuffing and cranberry sauce and kept all the pumpkin pie for herself? Let me patch in a couple of people. Hold, Please. Rring... "Wrath Division, Sandy speaking." "I've got a suc...er... client on the phone where we can get a two-fer. You have time to sit in? "Sure." "Hello. Thank you for holding. I have Sandy from our Wrath division and he's going be able to help your issue.  "Bertha tells me you were stuffed with stuffing and cranberry sauce and you want revenge how? To stuff her? Hmmm... Let me pull the records....Oh, my. Lot's of lust and envy there. It looks like she did  this to snag your husband. Oh, you say they have been having

  " You better wise up ." "What are you talking about?" "That 'girl' on Facebook. She isn't real." "How do you know?" "She says she's gluten-free." "No, she's Celiac. There's a difference." "How so?" "She can't eat gluten. Not she isn't made from gluten." "Oh, what was I thinking. You never listen." "Maybe I should invite her to the Disney trip." "Are you trying to bait me?" "No. It's just she likes Minnie Mouse." "Boy, you are losing it." "Just kidding. She's half my age." "Oh, just eat your supper. I've got a headache."

  Meeemmmmmorrryyy.... Nah, not that one. What's the buzz, tell me what is happening.  Better, but try again. Far, far away, someone was weeping. That one, albeit no one will listen to it. It's politically incorrect in the modern world. Everyone takes the opportunity to tear down rather than build up.  Maybe things will change.  We'll see. 

  Do not ignore the opportunity to write something...anything! If it is; then it will be This is the Ancestral Wisdom Under the Amber Moon It's scary. Thanks, Dave Coon.

A very pretty voice. 

 Do you realize You don't have a story Even though you thought you did You went on a road trip To find a busker To find  When the music hit you You found No old guitars Only cheap jewelry Thrift store clothes And distant memories.

 Chinka...chinka....chinka....chinka The two guys were really into the ping-pong battle.  I'm still trying to come up with a logline, much less a premise, for a story. Am I missing something?  WHACK!! The short guy finally got one by his opponent.  I see the thread about the House Speaker I don't get political, usually. It's a dead end street.  Maybe I'll go to Starbucks. It will be quieter. 

The phone chirped. Daddy was drunk. Could she crash at his place? It had happened before. He replied without thinking.  A modern version of Belinda Carlisle, she was pleasingly thick, bleach blonde hair restrained with a butterfly barrette. The nose ring was an afterthought of rebellion. A monstrosity of a purse was slung over her shoulder. It could pack enough stuff to keep her for days. Tonight was going to be different. It would be a vacation of a different sort and he’d hang for it. The remark came out almost involuntarily. All his life, he had gone by the mantra "I can't fix that".It allowed him to miss more than one female trainwreck. He could never figure out why she was different. The bio-units were not deserving of the title parents. On the surface, it looked like a typical upper middle class family, nice house in a pretentious subdivision, nice cars in the garage. Dad, when he was around, was drunk or high. Mom lived in her own little world, denying her precious

  It's Fall and everything is coming up pumpkins and spice. I'm ambivalent. Like many, I am frightened by what I don't understand, And the fascination with allspice, cinnamon, and clove is one of those things. I'll eat pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving and the week after. But the overflow of everything pumpkin for weeks at a time is beyond the pale.  Another thing I never quite got was corn mazes, such as this one outside  Kalamazoo, MI . I have a friend in Grand Rapids who swears by the experience. I just get bored.  I guess I'm just old and want to play with frogs, instead. 

  The trip was her idea, a way to get some "we time" between work and kids' stuff.  Jimmy's mom not only offered to take the kids, but she had paid for the reservation. Everything was going to be perfect. Kathy had found the perfect place in the mountains where they didn't have to worry about being quiet.  The drive up had been easy, with no traffic on the way in. The only problem was missing the turn to the Inn. But that was quickly fixed and they turned off the small sidestreet. The driveway was lined with wildflowers and the turning trees indicated summer's end.  They got out of the car and looked at the building. They knew it was going to be special.  Behind the desk was a small, blonde woman.  "You must be the Morris', we've been expecting you."  She handed them the key and pointed toward the stairs. "The Millhouse Suite is at the top of the stairs. Enjoy your stay."   Running up like a couple of kids, they started laughing whe

 I missed my calling in life. I should have been a  Lineman . I could be outside all day and make like a pirate in the Carribean. Instead, I sit in front of my screen with the Muzak in the background.  Oh, well. 

Cuddled together in a garden Sun reflected off their skin A broken faerie And her mate Resting, breeze flowing "Could I be straight?" She mused, adjusting a wing "You need not.." He said "You are my September Dream I don't want to stop believing."

  Day Starts with Missing sock Can't run for the Glory without it on My feet. Ballons in my Hands. If all you told was turned to gold. If all you dreamed was new Would you then greet the sun Without worrying about the laundry. 

 Let's talk numbers. In a normal month, I usually average 400 reads a month, which isn't too bad for this antiquated format. I have a few really popular posts, but the average new post gets about 20 reads in the first week. Since I never have monetized either this blog or the WordPress model, the fact I am not one of the cool kids really doesn't bother me.  But the last few months have been crazy. A bunch of nosy neighbors from Poland and Singapore have been passing my URL around. You have to wonder why? I'm a third tier writer who only does this for fun. I'm not writing political screeds condemning the current situation or steamy sex romps where everyone looks like Barbie, Ken, and GI Joe. I just write what it is on my mind. It might be where I sample durian fruit or fried alligator tail. Or describing my house after a power outage where I have to maneuver by candlelight. Whatever, it seems to be working. I hope they keep coming back. 

  This river has been part of my life since I was in sixth grade. I've floated it, jumped off its rocks, and hiked all of its trails from Buford Dam to almost West Point. I've had deer snort at me, watched hawks screech as they got squirrels, and listened to immense bird life that exists along the stream bank.  This is Morgan Falls Dam. Where I live now is to the left of the picture. Where I grew up is to the right. Some of the best days of my life happened here. It was where  this story  happened. Many nights (and a few breakfasts) were forgotten in the parking lot.   There are peaceful nooks everywhere you go.  And I hope to keep enjoying it forever. 

 I had just gotten in from work when the phone rang. 'Hey, Hoser!'" Jim was as close to being Doug McKenzie without being from Canada.  "Yeah, Jim?" "Want some strange brew at Good Ol' Days?" My favorite converted Dairy Queen. It was Friday and I didn't have overtime tomorrow. Easy answer.  "What time?"  "About 8. Carol's coming." I had forgotten he was dating her. That woman can't hold her liquor to save her life. I wonder how long it will be before table dance? I think for a minute "I'll be there." It's better than watching the game. In ten minutes I've changed shirts and ready to go. Traffic was light for once. I get to the bar early and get a table outside. Molly, my regular waitress, comes up.  "Hey, Chirs. What will it be?" "A pitcher and three glasses, Jim and Carol are on their way." Her face fell. She knew it wasn't going to be Patty Cake.  "Tab or separate c

 "Recommend this obituary to your friends." The line startled me when I read it. Was this hard-coded into the website or did some bored secretary stick it in the frame header?   The news wasn't unexpected. She'd been doing poorly for years. But it was a life worth celebrating and recommending. A 1970s-era housewife who roared. She set up a community services center for the disadvantaged and ran it through its first decade. She then handed the reins to capable management. She was a person you either adored or despised. Headstrong and used to getting her own way,. She stepped on many toes. But things did get done. The dissolution of a 30-year marriage after several kids was quite the bangarang for her friends. It seemed every week the Coconut Telegraph had something about her. The response was typical, go to seminary and spend the next 25 years in hospital chaplaincy, taking three of her friends with her.  I look around the room. People who had known her way back when a

Short cuts Cheat sheets Funicular railways Built into mountainsides To get to the top Before Superman Only in America Is speed valued  Over quality.

 It's taken years. But I have finally made 100K views. Thank you for your support. 

The flash and bang happened together. Jack sat straight up on the sofa. Eyes darted from side to side, searching in the darkness to see where the bang had come from. Ever since she died, the least little thing woke him. He flipped out of bed and flopped down the hall. Before he passed out, the Bubble-Headed Bleach Blonde said there was a tornado watch,  pointing at the red and yellow screen. It was still a ways off in his mind and that was the last thing he remembered.  He looked at the clock. 3:45 AM. The stormy weather made it, obviously. Lights were still on, that's a plus. The trees were swaying pretty good out the window. Eye Candy was still on the tube along with her multi-colored screen, the L'Oreal # 1 faded a little more than earlier. There was no going back to sleep wondering if a branch would come down. Looking a the map, it looked like the first line of storms was past his house, but another would be along shortly.  Coffee or vodka? Why not both? It only took a minu

  A hammer and nail She wants me to time travel But I won't do that Going quick and dirty because I'm out of town for the next week. 

  History doesn't repeat It rhymes The professors say they understand When all they want to do Is tie the poem to a chair with a rope And torture a confession out of it And become the next Carl Jung But all they are is the next Dan Brown.

 Kathy and Emily are cleaning up the kitchen after supper.  "Mommy?"  "Yes, Sweetie." Kathy was struggling with some burnt-on grease on a fry pan. "Why do you call Daddy 'Cowboy'? Kathy stopped washing the dishes and looked out at her husband and son playing in the backyard. Little Charlie was riding circles around his Dad on a stick horse while he tried to reach the bridle. The memory made her smile. "It was a pet name I came up with when we first started dating." Kathy handed her daughter a dish to dry. "Like, 'Whoa, Cowboy' when he got too mushy? Emily smirked. Kathy laughed and splashed her daughter. She was too smart for her own good. "Yes. That IS where it came from."  "Thought so." Putting the dried dish on the counter. "How did it happen?" "We were sitting at the picnic table in Grandma's backyard." Kathy looked wistful as she thought back. "It was the week after his 14th  b

  Looking heavenward Alternating blinking lights Did E T phone home? I'm not much of a science fiction fan, but I did go through a short phase in college where I read Arthur C. Clarke, Heinlein, and Asimov. I spent time in Perlandra and Dune. Even did Watership Down and The Clan of the Cave Bear series. I appreciated their efforts to get me to think of what was beyond the veil. But in the end, I'm too much of a realist to suspend my belief in theories that, at least at the moment, have no basis in the real world.  I eventually came around to Carl Sagan.  He was one of few people who could communicate both what could be and what truly is (at least at the moment). The balance of skepticism and wonder rolled through his writing, whether it was Cosmos or about this family life. There is an essential hope to draw from there.  I hope I passed that on to my kids. 

 It's Saturday and I'm Another Government Employee. Or am I Marty Mammon in his office? Kari Summers at Micchu Pichu? Harry Handy? A little girl named Emily? Or just an American Idiot? You decide. I'm having hard time, myself in this crazy world.  There are so many things bad, it is hard to stay positive. So I hide in my characters. It is as good of a way as any to respond to the constant barrage of crap thrown my way. 

Salted rim Bitter fruit There should be two But only one in front of me Stood up again Hung out to dry By the paper in front of me.  Dark screen Glows bright Attorney call Second paper doubles down On the first. I have no home.

Reveille sounded across base.  Mike drug himself out of his bunk and blindly put on fatigues.  It was a short day, only PT this morning , then on leave until Monday. Sarge's  voice droned as he went through the routine:  50 pushups, 50 crunches, Jumping Jacks. Thoughts of Susan,  the girl he met the other day at the NCO were drifting in his head. Long brown hair and sweet smell filled his mind. She stayed in a dorm at the local college. Not only had he gotten her number, she had agreed to a picnic.  Mike's mind wasn't on task as he stumbled through the obstacle course. There was a scream in his ear.He shrugged it off. He was just another GI trying to get through this assignment and on to the next one.  An hour and a half later, he was done and headed towards the barracks. A quick shower and change into civvies. With a wave to the guard, he pointed the Mini into town. He drove up to the parking gate.The guard looked at him warilyas he buzzed him through. A shudder of anticip

  They pile in from church In ill-fitting suits and chartreuse dresses Wanting to get into their Easter baskets Grandma says no,  Supper first And change out of the nice stuff We know you're getting messy Play clothes donned Ham and green beans eaten Out on the porch The trading starts. Emmy likes peeps Charlie likes bunnies Daddy feeds Mommy malt eggs When Grandma comes back  Everyone is asleep It's been a good day.

  Canoe floats smooth water Close bank Bandit's eyes Look down Waiting Pull ashore tent up Checklist Rocky leaves None here Too smart. Chances are I'm faking Or not.

A piece of cardboard Slipped into a folder As I walk up to the table Two older men smile and hand out glossies. Many years ago, they were on separate teams Each a star in their own right Locked in a race For the most home runs hit.that year I'm kind of nervous Would he sign this? And make  twelve-year-old me happy "Mr. Stargell?" The grin lights up the room "Willie." Holding out his hand "Would you sign my card?" He takes the card and shows the other man "Hey, Hank. You recognize this young man?" "You look good in that." He laughs Another guy in the crowd pulls out his card "What about us? Willie asks "Where have they all gone?" "We kind of got old," Hank replied Left them behind "You boys have made our day." They said as they gave us our cards back And the free glossies. We were happy.  Note-These are not my baseball cards. I sold my Stargell card not long after his death when a dealer gave me a d

 The scotch rolled as he brought it to his lips. Most of the time he came to the bar, he wanted to be alone. Tonight wasn't one of those nights. He was looking for a spring fling. A one or two-night stand to take his mind off the worries of the world.  Maybe I am selfish, he thought. Maybe it is inevitable. After all, I am only myself looking out. I can't really put myself in someone else's shoes. I'm only propelled by my own desires. And I want the scent of a woman as she whimpers under my touch. One that doesn't have an idea what the world is. All she knows is this is fun and there is no fear of consequences.  A tiny woman sings in the corner. Dressed simply in a flowered blouse and slacks, chocolate drop eyes framed by a mass of curls. Large hoops dangled from her ears and a slender gold chain around was around her neck.  The piano sounded harsh and thin like it had been beaten in a past life and resented music. But the performance rises above it all. The voice i

 Emily came in from school and found her mother at the living room table with a bunch of pieces of paper scattered in front of her "Hi, Mom." picking up one of the pieces. "Whatcha doin'?" "I'm trying to decide what color to paint the living room." She gave her daughter a hug, "Do you want to help?" "Sure" Throwing her book bag on the sofa, Emily pulled up a chair and looked at the piece of paper in her hand. "Char...trise?" "Chartreuse, Honey."  Emily made a face. "Yuck, that looks like baby barf." She tossed it down and pick up the one next to it. "This one is called Seaform." Mom looked at the chip. "Too light, Your Brother would mess that up in one day. I've got this one, Kelly Green." "That's the same color as the guy on the Lucky Charms box." Emily giggled. "And it's making me hungry." "You'll ruin super." She said without looki

The beer was warm and flat, but it was free. It wasn't the first time Jerry had subbed in the middle of the set, but it was getting old. Something had to give. The Spock Brothers not being able to deliver just couldn't keep going. They drew a crowd, for sure.  Kirk was as solid as ever, though. But S'Chin seemed to fade with every performance. Maybe it was his Vulcan life force finally winding down? Who knows? He wasn't going to live long and prosper if he didn't get his act together.  Jerry looked at his watch, 2:30A.M. Should he stay till close or should he go? Looking up at the TV above the bar, he noticed someone had changed to TCM, probably Charlene. Old movies were her bag. He'd spent the night at her place a couple of times. They would play Spencer and Katherine where the scenes extended far beyond the Hays code.  The sound was off, but West Side Story was on and Officer Krupke was trying to instill his "wisdom" to miscreant Jets. Almost without

  Only memories remain Whispering wind moving small chimes Small flames peek through mesquite Arguments fade Evening wanes I thought I was mistaken I thought I heard your words Backflipping through the air Landing flat on the mat Morning will bring Balloons rising over Golden Aspens Leaving us behind. 

 It is Friday night and the deadline is coming up. When the topic came up, it was suggested I might do a Harry Handy since he's been silent for a while. I talked to him through the internet ether and he said was busy with some girl. I asked what did she look like? He gave me the Zoom link. Uh, yeah.  I think I'll leave those kids to OnlyFans.  It could have been a Devil's Quill, but when I called Marty Mammon, he said he was dealing with the aftermath of a Wrath project overseas that had gotten stuck. We chatted a while and I suggested my friend Kari Summers might be of assistance, He was quite familiar with her work. More than one person she'd helped over the bridge was with him, but this involved something above individual attention.  Really? Are my best characters ignoring me? I'm afraid they are.  Maybe I could talk about great trips.  But that doesn't happen until next month. Oh, well. I'll figure it out.  Main Topic-What do I write on? Prompt 1-Trips P

 If the real thing don't do the trick, Fake roses will Don't bring me those It's all a ruse To get someone To give something up After all, Love is blind And lust is Helen Keller As you can tell, Valentine's Day has never been my strong point. It isn't my wife's either. I guess that's why we are going on 38 years.

 Many people have said it. Once in a while, a bonehead will come up with it. Years ago, my niece gave me a book titled "The Trenton Pickle Ordinance and Other Bonehead Legislation" (Dick Hyman, The Stephen Greene Press, (c)1976) with 115 pages of laws, that might have made sense at the time of enactment, but are silly today.  The titular entry reads: "It is unlawful to throw tainted pickles into the streets" It doesn't say when the law went into effect, but I assume it was before most were paved and horses could literally be in a pickle. Tainted pickles do stink of rotted cucumbers, so there is that.  If you are living in the Northeast, you might be interested in this law from Brawley, California: "It is forbidden to snow within the city limits." Then you have ones that seem Prohibition Influenced: "In the state of South Carolina, it is unlawful to sell pants with hip pockets." This was done to dissuade people from carrying flasks. My moth

Dragons- Mythical creatures that exist in almost every culture.   At their simplest, they represent the unknown and the unknowable. Fears linger in our minds wondering if they should stay or should they go. Maps would say "Here be dragons!" to warn the unwary traveler.  People hunt them as they try to figure out what went wrong in their lives. One by one, they must be slain to proceed to the next level. Social media people chase the content dragon, never finding solace amount the detritus left behind. Thinking you will succeed is the ultimate in magical thinking. They aren't Puff.  Sauron is ravenous, consuming all who come into the lair. 

 Clouds in my coffee? When I first read the topic, Harry Handy immediately popped into my head. We are all of the Geritol Generation and 70s and 80s music was so much a part of it.  Then I heard Jeff Beck died, then David Crosby. Two people known for their extreme ways. I'm sure over the next year there will be more and more of the old gray rockers who will no longer get older.  Will they be asking after me? Sure, they will.  But until then, I'll eat my carbs and drink my wine.  It's all we have under the sun. 

  RRrring! Good Day, and welcome to Devil's Quill Communications. My name is Jezebel. How may we serve you today? Your Husband did what? Brought his new girlfriend over while you were changing the baby? My, isn't he the cheeky one? Oh, she handled the Flood Tide for you? That was nice. But then she wanted to clean everybody up? Including you? Hmm... Sounds like you might have a problem there and I think we might have the solution. Our "Hell Hath No Fury" package. In it, we provide personal lubricant spiked with chili peppers, a marital aid that doesn't turn off when used, and a webcam with an app for you to enjoy the festivities. We'll have those two worn down to germ when we get through. In my experience, it is great fun. In addition, I can include a 1:24 scale model of our golden calf for proud display in your home. All for the low, low price of an Age and an Epoch in Purgatory.  What about just chucking Missy through the window? Where exactly do you live? 3