To the Fine Patrons and Owners of Lucky’s Freeway Diner

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fountain-pen-1851096_640To the fine patrons and owners of Lucky’s Freeway Diner, creators of unique spins on diner classics like the “Mama’s Chicken Fried Steak” and “Stack-o-Cakes”, I am sorry.

From the moment I entered the establishment and loudly declared the smell of kitchen to be “totally fudgin’ amazeballs” I set a bad example of what a good patron sounds like.  To make matters worse, wearing my torn jeans and blood stained shirt left my visual aesthetic to be desired.

Let me tell you of the moments leading to my appearance in the entryway of the cozy little diner, as I feel some explanation will help explain my behavior.

You see, I’m not usually one for dramatic entrances.  But the hours leading up to my terrible behavior might help my pending court case. Continue reading

Uninspiring

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“You know, you say, ‘fine’, but what I think you really mean is, ‘a spire of volcanic rock just spewed out of the ocean and cooled before our eyes and I have my doubts the boat can turn fast enough.’  Is that what you mean by, ‘we’re fine?'” Allan asked.

The captain, beard waving in the ocean breeze, body moving up and down with the roll of the waves, narrowed his eyes and raised his looking glass, brushing aside Allan’s concerns.

“I’ve seen much worse,” the captain assured the young man.

“When?” Allan protested.

“We’re probably fine,” The captain corrected.

People on the Highway

Driving before the sun is up is odd.  I want to know a better word for it, but ‘odd’ has to suffice.  Lexicon shortage.  Drat.

The odd part about driving before sun is up is that every other light source is at least 45,0000X10^4 brighter than normal.  So that guy in the SUV behind you, the guy who just merged into the left lane to pass you, the guy who forgets to turn off his blinker? Yeah, that guy.  That guy is the worst.

Today’s tale: It was all Yellow Continue reading

My Favorite Person

Many years ago I stood by my wife as we met our oldest son for the first time.  We’re about to celebrate that big guy’s birthday and the joy he brings into our lives (a solid 82% of the time), but every year I’m reminded of seeing my wife become my absolute favorite person again and again.

She’s been my favorite person since we were 18 years old.  She studied, read her text books, got involved in school.  I played GoldenEye and wrote papers at 2am.  She worked 12 hour days teaching while I sat in the basement and reset passwords.  She is strong, motivated and cares deeply about whatever she touches.  It’s admirable and being in proximity of her makes others want to try harder, do better, learn more and act fast.  Continue reading

Trumpet

old-trumpet-1411142_640 Dust and rust fell from the trumpet like snow.

“It’s a beauty,” said Grandpa Frank.  “Go ahead and play it, Erik.”

Erik had no intention of following the request.  “Wow, no, I couldn’t play your old horn. I’m no good,” Erik tried to deflect.  He was terrified of what tetanus in the mouth would look like.

Grandpa urged again, egging on the grandson to give the horn a chance.  Erik reluctantly drew the horn upward.

Grandpa Frank slapped his head.  “You do everything people tell you? Don’t be silly. This thing needs to be melted down.”

Erik couldn’t agree more.

I Wound Up Recreating Toys of My Youth Despite Best Intentions

Mighty Max and Micro Machines were the big toys of my early years.  They were awesome.  One or two plastic figurines (aka; dolls) to bounce around a small scene and play out fun stories with was all that was needed to keep an afternoon busy or a car ride short.  My brother and I had scores of these little sets. Looking back, I do wonder if we had so many options simply to keep us quiet for a little while as dinner was prepared or the drive to some far off place was underway.  I totally understand that need as it is exactly why I made the above item. Continue reading

A Time for Letting Go

morocco-123962_640Axel sang, “but why, oh why, have you left me to die? Was it nature or nurture that lead me here, oh dear, why oh why is the answer unclear?”

He stood, abandoned on the desert, and sent his song to the fleeing car.

“Tell me what did I do today? Tell me how do I prove it’s okay? Tell me, my love and I’ll change everything your way.”

His cell phone buzzed.

“Signal out here, crystal clear!” He sang before looking at the text.

“It’s because of the Michael Bolton impression. I’m leaving you.”

“That stings,” he sang, decrescendo.