Let Your Imagination Run Wild

Posted on December 15, 2022 by hdh

Let Your Imagination Run Wild

One could say that I have a vivid imagination. It’s like my mind is focused on a perpetual movie screen in which the story continually changes. 

This is both a blessing and a curse. As a writer and storyteller, it allows me to be creative in ways that I never thought I could be (I was going to say in ways I never imagined, but that seemed counter to what I was talking about). Anyway, I am always playing out stories in my head. 

These stories might be based on reality, a movie or book I have been reading, or real memories I have experienced. And they are not just plot summaries. Some are epic adventures. Again, as a storyteller and writer, that gives me lots of food to set on my table of stories. 

Then there is the curse part. There are many times when these stories play out in my head when I’m supposed to be doing other things: like listening to something that someone is telling me, especially if that thing is something that I’m expected to remember, like what I’m supposed to pick up shopping, or how to put something together, or a new plan of action for an organization I’m part of. 

If it is not an important piece of information for me to store, I can usually get away with what I missed. 

“Did you hear what I said?” I’d be asked.

“Sure I did,” would be my reply. And as long as they didn’t ask me to repeat it or call me on it when I don’t get it done, I’m okay. 

There are times when, even in my dream state, I can repeat back almost exactly what they said, and even though I heard the words, I did not listen to them, meaning I did not follow up on requests made. 

 I’ve also discovered that there are some people who don’t want to hear what was going on in my mind when they are talking about something else. 

Such is the fortune or misfortune of having an unrestrained imagination.

Now, what was the topic you asked me to write about? I’m sorry, I heard every word you said. It was about an alien robbery at Area 51, right?

 

Posted in Personal Stories, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Do you believe in magic?

Posted on December 12, 2022 by hdh

Do you believe in magic?

Helena held the orb in her hand. It was just a piece of crystal that she found on her walk in the woods. Not something that one expects to find. It was perfectly round and clear. She could see her own reflection in it. The reflection of a sad and lonely girl out on her own. 

“I wonder what this is?” she said out loud. But there was no one there to hear her. There never was.  “It certainly doesn’t look natural. It’s too perfect.” 

It was then that she heard a woman’s voice, “If you believe, then it is real.”

Helena turned around to look. There was no one there to see. Just the branches of the trees swaying softly in the wind. It was getting late, and darkness was beginning to fall. 

Again the voice spoke, “If you believe, then it is real.”

As if on cue, music filled her head; it was the opening lines of an old 1965 song by the Lovin’ Spoonful –

 Do you believe in magic in a young girl’s heart

How the music can free her whenever it starts?

“What the…” This didn’t make any sense at all. The orb, the voice, the music…MAGIC?

She thought about it for a while, very confused. She thought to herself, “Do I believe in magic?” Helena had never thought about it before. She’d seen magicians doing tricks, but that’s just what they were…tricks.

But then the caring voice spoke up again, “If you believe, then it is real.”

“WHAT’S REAL!” she screamed but got no answer. 

She wanted to turn away from the orb in her hand, but instead, she felt compelled to look at the crystal orb again; only this time, it was no longer clear. Within the globe, she saw herself, yes, but it was not the she who was standing there in the woods. The image in that globe was her at another time and another place. It was Helena sitting beside the deathbed of her mother. She remembered that scene. She wanted to shut her eyes. The memory was too painful. She had lost the only person who did believe in her, the only person who gave her strength, the only person who advised Helena on who she should be. The one person who left her when Helena was so young.

In the image, her mother spoke. The words that her mother spoke, Helena had forgotten, but now they were being refreshed in her mind. 

“You are special,” her mother said. “You are inheriting a great gift from me as I pass on.” 

This time Helena did close her eyes. She did not need the image in the crystal to tell her the words that she now remembered. “You have power that comes from ancient lore. With this power, you can do anything you want. You can be anyone you want to be. You just have to believe in yourself.” And with that last breath, Helena’s mother passed on.

How could Helena have forgotten? How could she forget what her mother had gifted her? In Helena’s anger at her mother for leaving her like that, she had heard words with no meaning. 

But this globe, that song, that voice, which she now recognized, was no trick. Music and warmth filled her heart and her head. It had to be magic, which, in fact, it was. And yes, Helena did believe in magic. And said so, “I BELIEVE! I BELIEVE!” 

And that belief proved itself, for the crystal globe disappeared from her hand, and in its place, there was a special aura that surrounded Helena for the rest of her days. And the magic within her, and the magic she used, I would like to think, made this world a better place. 

Posted in Original Stories, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment

All Eggs May Stand Up Now!

Posted on December 11, 2022 by hdh

All Eggs May Stand Up Now!

Did you ever try to stand an egg on its end? Well, I have. It seems that there is a myth that the Winter Solstice is one of the only days that you can stand a raw egg on the tip of its shell. It doesn’t specify which end, but it is supposed to be one of the few days during a year that it can be done. The other day is the Summer solstice. Actually, the scientific myth is that it can only be done on the Spring and Autumnal Equinoxes when day and night are equal. 

You can’t tell me a myth like that and not have me 1) try to prove that it is correct and 2) disprove that those are the only days that it can be done. I love a challenge.

Now realize that you are not allowed to cheat, like putting a cup holder underneath the egg or some other support. You must have the egg free standing on its own, and it can’t be a cooked hardboiled egg. 

Here are some tips: Number one is to ensure that you have a level surface to put it on. Any tilted surface will not work as the egg will lean and then roll. The next thing is that you need to have is very steady hands. This is not easy to do. Because of the pressure of trying to be perfect, your hand naturally tends to shake a bit. The third piece of the puzzle is, and this should be obvious, you need to stand the egg on the fatter end of the egg.

That being said, it is still very difficult to do. But after multiple tries on different Equinoxes, I managed to stand and egg on its end. It is doable. The idea is that the position of the moon and sun and their gravitational pull at that time of year makes this feat possible. 

So the next challenge is whether it can be done at any time of the year and at any time of the day. To answer that, one has to try to do it.  

Standing an egg on its end is not as simple as it sounds. In truth, I was able to do it at different times during the year; however, the number of times that I tried it and the effort that it took was not worth it, in my humble opinion. I should have accepted the proof after my first successful attempt on a non-known day. But I can get obsessive at times. In fact as soon as this meeting is over, I’m prompted to try it again. 

As for the rest of you…Give it try, and good luck.

 

Posted in Personal Stories, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Chase

Posted on December 8, 2022 by hdh

The Chase

I was running. Why you might ask. Well, when you are in my position, and there is something you want, you just take it. And if someone sees you doing it, they chase you to get it back. Hence, I was running. 

Mind you, I was not running fast, for the ones that were chasing me were not very swift. They obviously knew that I had taken something by my hasty exit, but they didn’t know what.

It is hard to chase someone when you are unsure of why you are chasing them, and you only suspect that they did something wrong. 

Now back to the chase – Where was I going to go to evade my pursuers, and what was I going to do with what I took? Up ahead, there was an alley. I chose to take it. At the end of the alley, there was a fire escape that led up to the top of a very tall apartment building. Time to test whether or not my pursuers were good climbers. 

It turns out that most of them were not willing to climb the fire escape. There was, however, one person that took me up on the challenge, and she was getting closer. 

I reached the roof of the apartment building and decided on my next option. Should I try to be a superhero and leap from building to building across rooftops or just find an exit into the building and enter it?

I chose neither. I opened the door to the entrance to the building, left it open, and then hid behind the chimney on the roof. 

When my pursuer noticed the open door, upon reaching the rooftop, she did exactly what I assumed she would; she went into the building and down the stairs. 

I quietly went back to the fire escape and went back down to the alleyway. By that time, all the other pursuers had gone. I leisurely walked back to the street and headed back to my house. 

Safely within the confines of my house, I took out the purloined item and shared my ill-gotten gain with my wife. 

She looked at me and nodded her head back and forth with a face of incredulity. She sneered. “You are such an idiot. You do realize that Covid tests are free, don’t you?”

My response was, “Well…I…No.”

She gave that look again, which she seems to do frequently, basically indicating to me…Please, don’t do that again.

Well duh! I don’t think so.

 

Posted in Original Stories, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment

We Argued About…

Posted on December 5, 2022 by hdh

We Argued about…

She began by saying I’m wrong

It’s the usual way we start

The point I made might have been strong

But I made it to show I was smart.

 

There he goes as he stands there and tries

Just because he has something to say

He will never admit he’s not wise

I am right, he will not have his way

 

Just look how she stands there so smug

The all-knowing, her answer is clear

You can see as she gives me a shrug

What I say she will not even hear

 

.

I’ll pretend he has something to say

I can see he is poised for a fight

Should I fold and let him have his way

Heaven’s No!  When I know I am right

 

So it’s time to play the last card

It is she who has made the goof

She must listen. It’s not very hard

The recording I made is the proof

 

He said I must listen right now

As he starts up an app on his phone

What it plays I can’t disavow

For that voice on the phone is my own. 

 

I see a sad gleam in her eye

It looks like she’s going to lose

I hear a perceptible sigh

What recompense shall I choose

 

The recording is true as he guessed

I must trick him and make him just doubt

Since his memory is faulty at best

I don’t think that he’ll figure it out

 

You say it was only a dream

One inspired by a recent review

You would never express that extreme

If awake since you know it’s not true.

 

I can see by his quizzical look

That he’s bought everything that I said

He’s as easy to read as a book

It’s not hard to get into his head.

 

So beware all you men, don’t get caught

When women and you disagree

There is one thing that you must be taught

They are certainly much smarter than we

Posted in Original Stories, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment

It’s all in the Book!

Posted on December 1, 2022 by hdh

It’s All in the Book!

“Well, If she can do it, why can’t I?” 

“One, because this is not a fairy tale. And two, because you are a male. Males don’t spin thread.”

“No, you’re wrong. First of all, the words in the story say that she couldn’t spin straw into gold, yet she did. And it says nothing about a male or female, it just happened in the book that it was a female. Why couldn’t it be a male?”

“All right, I’ll give you that argument. So, what is it exactly that you want me to do?” she asked.

“As the story goes, you have to lock me in a room, I guess that would be the back room, and if I can’t spin straw into gold, then you have to kill me.”

“That’s ridiculous!” she said.  “I’m not going to do that. Why should I kill you? I just met you. And furthermore, we don’t have a spinning wheel in the back room, it’s a freezer. We don’t have straw either. That would violate the health code.”  

“Okay, if that is not possible, let’s just jump to the chase. In the book, after the guy with the weird name does all of the spinnings, the girl has to promise to give him her firstborn child after she marries the king. She can get out of it if she figures out his name. When she does, the imp loses and jumps in a hole in the ground, and the king and queen live happily ever after.”

“Okay,” she says, “So what? As I said, it’s only a story.”

“Well, here’s the deal. I don’t need to spin thread because even if all that happens and I have to discover the imp’s name to save our firstborn child, I already know its name, so that’s not a problem.”

She looked at me with an astonished look, “Wait a minute, what do you mean our firstborn child? I only just met you.”

“Oh,” I replied, “Did I skip that part? I thought I said in the story she marries the king. Ergo I marry you.”

She replied, “But I’m not a king, and you are definitely not her.”

“Simple mistake,” I answered. “You see, I want to marry you, and you do work at Dairy Queen; therefore, I believe the analogy works.”

Well, believe it or not, this was not the worst pick-up line that I had ever used, but in this case, it worked. It worked so well that we have been married now for 32 years. And I never had to reveal anyone’s secret name to save my child.

 

 

Posted in Original Stories, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment

I Tought I Taw a Putty Tat

Posted on November 25, 2022 by hdh

I Tought I Taw a Putty Tat

Hi. My name is Clive, and I’m in a fix. You see, I’m a house cat. Generally, I’m good-natured and fun to be with. However, there are times when my cat instincts come out, and I want a good live kill.

I live in a house with two kids and a yellow bird named Goldie. 

The kids are ages 5 and 7, and they love watching TV all of the time. Their TV sits in the same room as that stupid bird’s cage. 

Their favorite shows are cat shows that they get from the library. I’m honored. Unfortunately, their taste in cat TV is somewhat limited. The shows they watch the most are “Tom and Jerry” and “Looney Tunes,” which occasionally is about Sylvester the Cat and a bird called Tweety. 

I hate it when they watch those shows. Cats are not that stupid! 

Why can’t they watch more good cat TV? Top Cat, now there is a clever cat. Felix the Cat, he can get out of any fix with his bag of tricks. Courageous Cat, his only problem is that he teams up with a mouse (Minute Mouse). Thank God we don’t have mice in our house

I could be like those clever cats. At least, that was what I thought when I saw Goldie’s cage with the bottom left open and no kids around. The kids must be cleaning the cage. Easy pickins I said to myself. 

I positioned myself right under the cage. I figured one good leap; I grab the bird before anyone is the wiser. 

I should have surveyed the situation better before I positioned myself. A good clue would have been that there was no bird in the cage. 

It all happened way too fast. As soon as I got under the cage, it dropped, sealing me inside the cage. And who should flutter down from where she was observing on a bookshelf? Freakin’ Goldie!

Clearly, I should have been paying more attention to Tweety in those shows than Sylvester. 

Posted in Original Stories, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Will the Real Thanksgiving Please Stand Up?

Posted on November 17, 2022 by hdh

Will the Real Thanksgiving Please Standup?

Thanksgiving, a day that comes each year in November, is when you gather around with family and friends to give thanks for all the wonderful things that have happened to you and the things and people that have enriched your life. 

This day is steeped in tradition within your family and the nation. 

There are the parades, like the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day one that celebrates…well, I’m not sure what it celebrates, but it’s a yearly event with lots of floats and marching bands and ends up with Santa Claus riding on his float, starting the season of gift buying. 

There are football games, I believe, in Detroit and Dallas, clearly celebrating well… grown men who would rather play games than be with their families. 

There’s the presidential pardoning of a turkey from being slaughtered and served for dinner. Clearly demonstrating how compassionate our nation can be. I often wonder what happens to all those pardoned turkeys. Do they now reside in an old-turkey home for retired poultry? 

And there are the family get-togethers that occurred annually up until 2 years ago, when they became hybrid events, if at all, due to Covid. The gathering of people, some of which you only see once a year and whose political opinions vary such that following the Thanksgiving celebration, you are glad it will be another year before you see them again. 

But to get back to Thanksgiving. Why is it necessary to designate a day to give thanks for all we have? Shouldn’t that be the norm for every day? 

“I’m sorry, I really appreciate what you have done for me, but I can’t say “Thanks” until the 4th Thursday in November.”

Add to that, I don’t think we should do things for others because we are looking for someone to say “Thanks,” or in some cases, because we are looking to get something back in return. 

Being thankful and grateful are things we should feel year-round. If one is empathetic and compassionate, doing things for others should be a given. Yes, I agree that getting thanks and appreciations makes us feel good for what we do, and we should all say “thanks” to others more than we do. But all the special parades and games we do on that day are not, in my humble opinion, recognizing how much we should be grateful for. For kids, it’s just celebrating two days off from school. For adults, it’s the anxiety of getting everything ready for this family event and possibly preparing to get trampled to death the next day, doing Christmas shopping.

So let’s make Thanksgiving an everyday event. We can save the 4th Thursday in November as a day to just relax and have fun. We can call it Give Ourselves a Break Day.

I thank you all for hearing me out. 

 

Posted in Original Stories, Personal Stories, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment

A Choice of Color

Posted on November 16, 2022 by hdh

A Choice of Color

What color you choose will determine the trait

That lets others know, are you nasty or great?

For colors tell all – who you are, what you’ll be.

And the thing about colors you choose, they’re all free. 

 

Take black as your choice, it’s a dark one indeed.

It says death and despair, with a slight touch of greed.

Now gray, it is better for with it there’s doubt.

Could be good or be bad, just not sure is its shout.

 

Now blue is the sky and the feeling of flight.

As you soar through the world, making everything bright.

You’ll find brown’s down to earth; you are grounded and firm

Where you make the world fertile, that is, if you’re a worm. 

 

Red is the color of fire, anger, and pain.

They say when you see it, self-control is in vain. 

You need white to feel calm, it’s as bland as can be

It is used to surrender on a flag that you see.

 

Now yellow’s the color that gives lots of signs

It’s the color you see in the sun as it shines

But be careful with that and remember to think

If its shine you prolong, your face will turn pink.

 

Of green there is growth, for the plants that will come

That is, so they say, if the green’s on your thumb.

Orange and purple may be great in their prime

Unless you’re a poet, for none has a rhyme

 

There’s gold and there’s silver; they make such a pair

They are shiny and special and exceedingly rare. 

For to have lots of each could provide one great wealth

Which in time if used right, can insure public health. 

 

There are colors galore. Far too many to mention

But to choose one from all, is way too much tension.

One may be right, for you if you choose.

But I like to be different, I often change views.

 

So my choice is them all. It’ll depend on the time.

I won’t limit my choices, I don’t think it’s a crime.

It will make me more rounded and then others can see

I am trusting, and caring, and…well… I am me.

Posted in Original Stories, Writing | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Thank you, Barry.

Posted on November 14, 2022 by hdh

Thank you, Barry 

When I was a student observer and student teacher at Middle Island back in the 1970s, I got to interact with a lot of different teachers. Some guided me on how to teach specific subjects. Some guided me as to how to deal with different kids as individuals. Some showed me the way to grow, both personally and professionally. Some even showed me how not to do all those things. 

I am grateful to all of them. One has even become a lifelong friend. She’s well aware of how grateful I am for everything I have learned in all the years I spent as a teacher. I’ve been able to repay her by sharing what I’ve learned from others to help her grow also.

One of the 6th-grade teachers that I worked with in Middle Island, whom I only interacted with for the two years that I was a college student observer and student teacher there, was Barry Luna. He taught me one thing that has been with me throughout my life since then. The words that he imparted to me were that I should always look at issues from both sides. 

These words helped me become more understanding of the differences that people have in both their opinions and who they are. It helped me become a better listener.

Though these words and beliefs are, at times, a problem for me, they have helped me become more understanding, empathetic, and compassionate in my dealings with the world around me. 

At times, following Barry’s principles becomes difficult when I have to make a choice decision. You might call me wishy-washy in those instances, but it is hard to make a decision when you see both sides of the coin and you see where people are coming from.

I guess what Barry’s advice helps me do, is accept others for their differing opinions and beliefs without necessarily giving up my own beliefs. And there are times seeing things from a different perspective does change my beliefs.

So thank you, Barry. Your gift of words has helped make me who I am today. 

 

Posted in Personal Stories, Writing | Tagged , | 3 Comments