Goodbye Mike Kelly

Greetings Hairballers,

No warm fuzzies today.

Afghanistan has taken center stage in the news again, which is extraordinary given the state of things.

Here is something I wrote in April 2003, when a friend and former colleague was killed--that’s eleven years ago, when it was Bush’s war. 

Goodbye Mike Kelly©

         FMHorner

At the office, your desk

was littered with papers and toys,

crime scene tape draped around the edge.

When our group gathered at the “club,”

you regaled us with stories

while making calls on other’s cell phones.

A wise and talented man,

you wore the mask of a middle schooler

just to throw people off guard.

Truth and harsh opinions

were your stock in trade,

and even when I disagreed, I liked you.

What a funny man you were

always something to make us laugh

and keep us sane.

You made a choice,

you asked to go

it was your duty to record,

and now you’ve gone

and died on us

out there in a ditch in the desert--

no more laughter,

just silence

and it breaks our hearts

Hairballs are not enough.

f

The Manager

Greetings Hairballers,

Today we have a short story by our guest blogger, George Gracie.  Hope you enjoy.

The Manager©

On the day before she was fired, Stunada stood and surveyed her domain, marveling again at her good fortune.  Corner office with a water view--yes.  She wobbled slightly on her 5 inch red high heels (those shoes said it all) while holding the doorjamb to steady herself.  Yes, this was her job--the manager.  Wiggling her way into the promotion had been worth it and, perhaps, he’d actually leave his wife.  Then, she wouldn’t have to work at all.  Even she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

        

He hadn’t told her of his transfer to California.  What was with that?  Maybe giving her this job was his way of taking care of her before he left.  She’d be great in California, though.  Stunada was young, shapely and trendy.  A California kind of gal.

        

She was bothered that he barely acknowledged her at his sendoff party last night.  Of course, his wife was there wearing her proper little suit and patent leather pumps--hardly a head turner.

        

Whatever, she thought.  She could always find someone else.  She didn’t need him any more.

        

Right now, she had this divine job unlike her cousin, Carol, with her big deal law degree.  While Carol slaved away every night with her legal stuff, Stunada was visiting the bars she recommended on the apartment website.  Everything for her was on the house and she was a celebrity, welcomed with open arms.

        

There wasn’t a lot of heavy lifting to do.  The maintenance guys fixed anything that broke or replaced it.  The rental agents dealt with the tenants.  God, those tenants, they always wanted something.  What a bunch of losers.  Wasn’t it enough that she posted on Facebook when it was going to rain and just yesterday, she had a whole spread on National Sticky Bun Day?  Plus, she got them discounts at her favorite bars.

        

Then there was that bitch in the other building, who said it was against the law to give out people’s personal information when she posted birthdays. Stunada showed her, she started posting only first names with the birthdays so no one would know who it was.  She also changed the Facebook page so the bitch couldn’t comment. Stunada wanted only likes and praise.

        

She left the office and walked over to the sinkhole by the pool thinking the maintenance guys ought to fill it up with dirt or something. It was lunchtime by now so that thought would have to wait ‘till later if it resurfaced at all.

        

People were moving out like it was a hotel.  No biggie.  The investment company didn’t want people to stay.  They made more money renting vacant apartments where they could double the rent.  Besides, the young and with-it tenants tended to move on and they were the sort the complex wanted.

        

She sat for a while in her office pulling a strand of hair across her face, wondering whether to add blue streaks to the fuchsia ones.  She then shut off her computer and left for the day.

        

Little did Stunada know that in less than 12 hours, she would be packing up her ruby slippers, blue streaks or not, and moving back in with her parents.  The new female vice president, who replaced her former benefactor, had other ideas.

George Gracie

OMG OF THE WEEK

Just saw the following on one of the poetry sites:

If you submit and are accepted by February 30, you will win a free subscription.

Typo or scam?

Wonder if anyone fell for it.

Hairballs,

f

Love and Wine (Advice to a Teenager)©

Greetings Hairballers,

I’ve been doing NaPoWriMo, a poem a day for National Poetry Month.  Usually just batting stuff out to be reworked later.  Everyday has a prompt, which you can use as inspiration or not.  The other day, it was “love and wine.”

Omar Khayyam wrote of love and wine so eloquently that the Yankees retired his number.

I, on the other hand, decided to have a go at a rap lyric.  Don’t know where this came from, but here it is.

Love and Wine (Advice to a Teenager)© 

FMHorner

if you’re in love

and you love wine

you’d better slow down

or you’ll cross the line

the barriers blur

the more you drink

you feel all right

that’s what you think

it’s only one time

what’s the harm?

throw caution to the wind

no need for alarm

the 60s are over

they’re in the past

now what you do

could last and last

you’re brain’s in your head

not in your crotch

put on the condom

or your life you may botch

Hairballs,

f

OMG OF THE WEEK

Amazon Prime: 

Joined in mid-March to lock in the old fee--$79 a year--rather than the new one of $99, which will be charged to those who already had memberships.  Such loyalty.  You know the drill--join, get a month free and then pay for the year. 

They offer free two-day shipping for eligible items, the key word here is eligible.  The shipping is US Postal, not UPS.  There will be UPS stickers because they do the tracking--post office and UPS are intertwined.  No Teamster UPS driver will bring the stuff to your door, unless your mailbox is next to your door.  Then you get the postal delivery person not an UPS driver.  Me, I’ve got to schlep the stuff from the apartment office, across the parking lot and up the stairs. I ordered a paper book (Word Press for Dummies) to check it out.  It arrived by stagecoach in three days.  Next time, I’ll just go to Barnes & Noble.

You can borrow one book a month from eligible books--that word eligible shows up a lot.  Did you know you can borrow all the books you want for your Kindle from the library?

Then there are the free videos, which you must watch on your computer or phone.  Or buy a special box to install on your TV, which may only be compatible with Kindle Fire.  I’ve not gotten that desperate for entertainment.  Did watch a hockey game during the playoffs last year on my phone because of a power outage. Sitting in the dark, staring at my phone yelling, “score, Kaner, score,” is just weird.

Up to you.  The price now is $99, which is a $20 jump from last year.  I’m in for a year at $79, which gives me time to evaluate.  I’m thinking, not such a deal.

Hairballs in redundancy,

f

STONED CAT

Greeting Hairballers,

I’m doing NaPoWriMo, a poem a day for National Poetry Month.

Most of what I’ve written is terrible, but today, I handed it over to the cat, Benchley.

Here we go:

Prompt:  Write in lune form, a type of haiku.  3 stanzas:  1) 3 words, 2) 5 words, 3) 3 words

STONED CAT

         R. Benchley, H.C.

snort the catnip

then roll on the floor

stoned and happy

oblivion not far

why do I do this?

because I can

BDA--thanks for the ”because they can,” years ago.  I’ve finally found a way to use it.