What’s new?

What’s new?

“So What’s new?” Sally asked. Not really caring what was new, it was just a formality. 

“Well, to tell you the truth, not much.” Mark started to reply.

Sally began, “So let me tell you what’s new with…” 

She never got to finish the sentence, as Mark quickly continued. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, I did have an issue with the cat. You see the cat wanted to go out, and I wanted it to stay in, but then the landlady came to the door and wanted the rent check. As I opened the door to address the landlady, the cat ran out of the door.”

“That’s very interesting,” Sally said in a rather dreary sort of way. “But what I was going to say…”

Mark immediately cut in and continued, “So then the landlady says, ‘I didn’t know you had a cat. You know that’s forbidden. Now your rent will have to increase.’ I had forgotten that was why I kept the cat indoors and hidden. So I said, “What cat?” Of course then the phone rang. And you wouldn’t believe who it was?”

Sally was getting somewhat antsy as she again tried to point out that she had something to say. “I’m trying to tell you something,” she said a bit more forcefully.

 As Mark went on. “It was my ex, you remember Susan. What a pain she was. She wanted to know why I haven’t sent her the check yet. Like all the money I make in my shoe shop I should give to her.”

Again Sally tried to speak as she held up her hand in front of his face. “I have to tell you….”

Mark continued, “The woman’s a gold digger. She has her own job at the supermarket. You would think she could earn her own living without mooching off of me.” 

This went on for a while, with Sally trying to get a word in edgewise as Mark continued his saga of the cat, his ex-wife, a bunion he had that was killing him, the latest news on the Mets and Islanders, the price of coffee nowadays, and more. Finally, Mark said, “Like I said, not much is new. So what’s new with you?”

At this point Sally was so upset and frustrated she yelled, “I..I..I..just wanted to tell you…Oh crap, now I forgot.”

“It probably wasn’t very important then,” Mark said. “Maybe you’ll remember and then we can talk again. It’s always a pleasure to have a conversation with you.”

 

 

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

Let it…

Let it…

    One of my best friends growing up was Dave. Dave was a great sounding board for me whenever I thought of things, regardless of their relevance to anything that was going on in the world. However, he had a unique way when it came to how he gave me advice. For example:

    “I’m really angry about what my mom said I had to do. Imagine, I’m not even thirteen, a man in the Jewish faith, and she makes me, make my own lunch for school!”

    Dave’s response was, “Let it go, Let it go, Let it go.”

    So I did, how hard is it to take two slices of Wonder Bread and throw a slice of American cheese on it. That would be my lunch, every day, as long as I had to make it myself.

    “I hate this cold wintery weather. There’s nothing to do,” I’d say.

    Dave’s reaction, “Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow.”

    So I waited, and sure enough it would snow, and you couldn’t get me inside to do anything, I would just be playing outside in the snow, with my friends Dave and Ronald.

    “I hate studying! What’s the point? Can’t they just give us the information without a test?”

    Dave, “Got to know, got to know, got to know.”

    So I studied. Little knowing that when I grew up to be a teacher, I would need to know all of the things that I learned.

As I got older and got into bread baking:

    “I wish they invented a bread machine that would deal with all the kneading of this stuff.”

    Dave’s response, “let it grow, let it grow, let it grow.”

    So I started making sourdough bread. Much less kneading and you just had to set the dough somewhere for 12 hours and wait for it to rise.  Though eventually, I did buy a bread machine. 

    I also had stomach problems, growing up. You know the kind where your stomach and body tends to speak out for you – usually when you’re at an inconvenient public place.

    Dave’s advice was simple, “Eat it slow, eat it slow, eat it slow,”

    Believe it or not, by eating much slower at each meal, my unrequested noises did decrease. 

So Dave was a good friend that always gave me helpful advice. Which I would also like to pass on to you. Here’s what you should know: When you are frustrated with things that are going on around you and feel anger and resentment building inside. Sit down calmly, take it slow, as to your anger, let it go, and for the good feelings inside let them grow. And if you’re lucky, you might even let it snow.

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

2020

2020

(Sung to the tune “This Little Light of Mine”)

This is the time to shine

I’m going to just be me

This is the time to shine

I’m going to just be me

This is the time to shine

I’m going to just be me

just be free, just be free, just be me

Covid got you down

Don’t let it ruin your day

Covid got you down

Find some things to play

Covid got you down

Don’t let have its say

Just be free, just be free, just be me

Staying at home is fine

Just find some things to do

Staying at home is fine

Create a lot that’s new

Staying at home is fine

Friends will help you through

Just be free, just be free, just be me

2020 will soon pass

Let’s remember all the good

Vaccines come at last

We’ll do the things we should

To get back on our feet

Covid 19 will retreat

Let’s us pray for that day, have our way

This is the time to shine

Be all that we can be

This is the time to shine

Let the world accept and see

This is the time to shine

I’m going to just be me

just be me, and you’ll see, we’ll be free

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

Red


Red

They all called her Red, you could tell by her hood

She was kind, obedient, and generally good

It was on that day when the weather was chill

She’d visit her grandma who was feeling quite ill.


She filled up a basket with pastries and drink

Before she could go, her mom told her to think.

“Red, I know you are smart and though you know the way

There are dangers out there so you best not delay


Keep your head in the game while you carry your load

And no matter what, don’t veer off of the road. 

Don’t you talk to no strangers, they might get you in trouble

If you’re scared or not sure, just come home on the double.


Though Red heard what she said, she had heard it before

She was thinking of flowers as she went out the door. 

Flowers that grow off the road would be great

She could give them to Granny and be just a bit late.


Her mom watched her start on the path Red should know

And Red kept on walking, she knew just where to go

For well off the path she would find what she’d need

Those colorful flowers she could pick with much speed. 


But she wasn’t quite careful and a problem arose

She forgot her way back so she stopped and just froze

And who came along just to give her advice

Just a well dressed great wolf and he acted quite nice. 


The wolf’s mind was clear here’s a meal to be had

But maybe there’s more I’ll pretend to be sad

“You seem to be lost, and just where are you going?

With that basket of goodies, I’m sure you are towing.”


Forgetting the warnings that her mother did tell.

She replied, “To my granny’s, who’s not feeling quite well.”

The wolf seemed quite pleased as he managed to say

“I will show you the path, to continue your way.”


But the wolf had a plan and he led her astray

The path that he showed her was a much longer way

For this gave him the time to arrive before Red

And get rid of old granny, and become her instead.


He followed the rules to get through the door

And gobbled up granny till she was no more

Now he swallowed her whole, without even chewing

And waited for Red which would be his undoing.


The wolf dressed as Granny, lying covered in bed

Heard the knock on the door, then little Red said,

“May I come in, I have goodies for you.”

“Oh yes,” said the wolf, “I have something here too.”


Red came quite slowly, for her granny looked strange.

Big eyes and big ears and big teeth, what a change.

So she questioned her granny and was slow to surmise

That this wasn’t her granny, but the wolf in disguise.


The wolf was too quick as he accomplished his goal

By jumping on Red and consuming her whole.

Having eaten them both, he went back to bed

And this story is over, or so it was said. 


But that is a sad way to end – way too gory.

Let us back up and add a bit more to this story.

Red’s mom who was worried, and knew all the dangers

Thought Red would fall prey and listen to strangers. 


Instead of going with Red and giving assistance

She followed behind at a reasonable distance. 

She did not see the wolf or when Red left the trail

But knew something was up and her face turned quite pale.


She made it to granny’s after Red had been eaten

But she saw the wolf sleeping, she would not be beaten.

She took out her scissors from her sewing kit.

And cut the wolf open, till his stomach was split.


And who should jump out from inside where they’d been,

But Granny and Red both alive in their skin.

They all gathered stones, put them in the wolf’s gut

Then mom sewed his stomach till it was quite shut.


They left the wolf there and went out for a spell

When the wolf did wake up he was not feeling well.

His stomach felt bloated and certainly sore.

From then on he would not eat meat anymore.


And thus ends our story, I tell you no lie

They may not end happily, but no one did die.

But stories have morals, which I’m sure you have guessed.

When you’re given instructions, trust that mothers know best.

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

The Means to an End

The Means to an End

It is said that one of the 7 habits of highly effective people is to “Begin with the End in Mind.”  That is a great sentiment if you are looking at work and wish to accomplish a certain goal. Each year in my teaching career, I would write a pre-opening day journal entry. It was entitled Goals, Expectations, and Anxieties. I wrote about what my objectives were for the year, what I hoped to accomplish, and what worried me about things I might have to address while trying to meet my expectations and goals. 

Each year I filled up my journals with all the thoughts I had about teaching and my class, and each year as the year concluded I would re-read my journal for that year and see how well I accomplished what I set out to do. I also added some suggestions of things I might want to work on over the summer, prior to next year’s pre-opening day journal entry. 

Now I’m retired and am no longer writing personal journals looking toward the end of anything specific I plan to do. However, I continue to write. 

I do consider myself an effective writer. I think the things I write about are well written; at least I enjoy them. The difference for me from my school journal writing in these pieces of my writing is that I must start at the beginning in order to be more effective. In most cases, as I start to write, I have no idea where the end will be. For me, that makes me a more efficient writer. I take the spark that I have for the beginning and just write. Sometimes it’s memories, sometimes it’s fiction, there are times when it comes out poetically, and times when I editorialize. There are times when I start writing that I think I know where I want to go, and then go in a completely different direction. And each time I try, it works.

As many have said, my pieces seem to always have a beginning, a middle, and an end. 

I still have a number of pieces that have yet to be completed, that I may have started in a group and though I finished that part for the group, the need for the overarching story continues. One of my end goals for those pieces is to complete them. Which I may or may not do. In those cases, the more I add to them, the closer I get to figuring out where I’m going. And yet, until I’m close to the end, I still don’t have the ends clearly defined. 

So yes, to be highly effective in most cases it is important to have your end in mind. However, there are exceptions. And as I’m finishing this writing piece, I guess here is where I was trying to get to – At least until I begin the next one. 

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

Where We Are

Where We Are

    It was a warm day in March when I heard the news. Schools were being closed. At the time I didn’t know that it would be for the remainder of the school year. When I found that out, things changed. That meant that the rest of my days of subbing were at an end for the school year. As the year progressed it also meant that the following school year I would choose not to work in schools. It meant that the 5 remaining storytelling gigs I had been hired for, all in schools, were canceled. 

    As the month continued it also meant food and supplies that were usually easy to get were now at a premium. Simple things like toilet paper and cleaning supplies were not to be found, let alone Mac and Cheese. 

    Those first few months were frustrating and concerning but we managed to survive and continue, which was a lot more than can be said for others. 

    Time being what it is flows on. The more things change, the more we adapt. Shopping for supplies became easier, though there are still things that are hard to find. There were groups of people that, though far apart, became much closer. In my circle of interactions, compassion and empathy reigned. We had support when we needed it and acceptance.

    Unfortunately, that was not the case everywhere. There were too many groups that focused on self-centeredness and distrust. There were those that refused to cooperate and support others. The disconnect between people created this chasm of failure. That was the most frustrating of all. And it still continues. 

    Where is the empathy and compassion, needed for our existence? Where is the altruistic mantra to follow?  How do we as a people become a united group that speaks to each other and listens? All I see now are simultaneous monologues. Each group spouting their own ideals. 

Be grateful you’ve made it this far. Listen to one another. Be open to change. Act for the good of each other, not just yourself. Become a better you. In that way, we can stand strong. We can work together to get through anything. With Thanksgiving coming upon us, I would be very thankful for that.

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

Waiting

Waiting

“Mom, I want to go out and play,” I said, feeling quite bored being stuck at home once again.
“I’m sorry dear,” was her quick reply. “You know you can’t go out yet. Especially today, I’m working on a special project.”
“But you’re always working on a special project,” was my retort. “Every day, every night you are doing something. If it’s not raining on someone else’s parade, It’s playing with fire or blowing something away. How come you get all the fun and I have to stay home with dad. All he ever does is sit around all day getting older. Borrring!”
Mom looked at me with forlorn eyes. There really wasn’t much she could do. After all, there wasn’t much I could do outside. It wasn’t in my nature to do the things that she did and as for my father, I guess I was expected to follow in his footsteps, but did you see all of the things he screwed up this year. He was aging faster than anyone has ever aged. I’d be surprised if he lasted another month the way he is going. And mom didn’t help. Her messing around all over the world certainly made things worse.
So what was I to do? Learn from my father’s mistakes? He tried to take it slowly, but boy did that not work out. The more he dragged on the worse it got. It would have been nice if he had some support from other people or mom. Some people tried to help my dad pass time, but others, just ignored him and my mom or worked against them. That didn’t help at all.

I understand that there is a new group of people that are willing to work with me and my mom to try and make my life more fun. I certainly look forward to that. Unfortunately, dad just crawls along. And mom, even though she knows I should take the controls from dad on January 1st, said that I won’t be effective at all until January 20th for whatever reason.
I guess I just have to wait my turn. But boy, do I have plans, once I’m in charge. Beware world; I’m planning on having a good time. I’ve even convinced my mom to let me help her some. I plan to work hard and with all those new people so that when I get old, everyone will remember what a great person I was. And when I have a kid, they will have a good example follow for generations to come.
“Mom, can’t I go out just a little bit, so I’m ready to take over?” I asked again, ready to sneak out.
“Your time will come. You just have to be patient. Now don’t you go sneaking out on me, you know it’s not easy to fool me.”
“Okay,” I replied. I guess I will see you all next year.

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

The Hike

The Hike

Arguments can be a productive way to resolve issues. They provide a forum for opposing views that when handled in a civilized manner can result in growth between all parties involved. However, it must be said that there are times when you argue with no reason or clarity, just to hear yourself.  It is not productive, in fact, it can be dangerous. 

I was going hiking with my friend Ronald on the Appalachian trail one summer day back in the late 1960s. We had brought with us enough food to last a couple of days and plenty of water. Ronald convinced me that he knew the trail very well and all I needed to do was follow him. This worked for a while until we got up near one of the mountains on the trail. I don’t remember the name of the mountain, but its distinct feature involved a very steep climb. As we reached what appeared to be the middle of the climb, I noticed that there was a level path that led off to the left, that looked pretty clear and safe. I suggested that we take that path, as I was getting tired. 

Ronald assured me, again, that he had done this hike before, and that the trail that I was suggesting was a dead end, where we might get lost. So onward we climbed. The higher we climbed the harder it was to move forward. In fact, it didn’t even look like we were on a trail. I hadn’t seen any Appalachian Trail markers in a long time. 

I suggested that we stop and go back. Ronald was adamant that we were almost at the peak of this mountainous trail and that the view would be great. Looking up, all I saw was the mountain as it continued up to the sky. 

This was where we had our argument. I wanted to return safely to where I was comfortable and knew there was a visible path. Ronald just talked about how he had done this and how I should trust his expertise. All he could talk about was how great the experience was when he last climbed the mountain. 

We went back and forth for a long time, neither of us willing to back down from our views. I was about to capitulate and follow Ronald up the mountain when I happened to ask him when was the last time he climbed this trail.

“Oh, it was way back in the 50s. I went with my dad. It was great. We made it all the way to the top and I could see everything.”

When I got Ronald to be more specific I found out that he was about 3 years old when this happened and his father had him on his back most of the way, hiking up the mountain. He also neglected to tell me that they needed a rescue helicopter to help airlift them both down the mountain back to the trail. But according to Ronald, it was a great hike. 

It was at this point that I just turned around and started hiking back to the trail. Ronald wasn’t quite sure what my problem was but agreed to follow me back. 

Sometimes I really need to listen to my mother’s voice in my head that says, “Be careful when you’re with Ronald. There’s something wrong with that boy.”

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

As Time Goes By

As Time Goes By

You know sometimes you have to wait a long time for something you never thought you could be part of to happen. You try to imagine it and feel as if you have the skills needed to deal with it. But time is a relative thing and that is not always what is needed to succeed.

As you sit and ponder you become less and less concerned about it and when it leaves your mind completely it happens.

You are sitting on a boulder in the campground. You watch the sky as day becomes night. That is when you see it. It is a star. A very bright star and it is moving quite fast. Maybe, you think, it is a jet or other flying object, but no, you can tell exactly what it is, for it looks like the sun only smaller.

As you watch you see underneath it a bright blue light. This confuses you. Lights don’t shine without something to light them. This you ponder. The star is brighter than any star you have seen before. The light on the other hand, though visible, wavers as it seems to get closer to you.

You think to yourself that this is some sort of mirage caused by the tedium of the day and your tiredness. You even pinch yourself to see if it is a dream. That pinch hurts, this is no dream. Then again, wouldn’t a pinch in a dream hurt as part of the dream? You ignore that thought.

Your mind tries to focus. Time passes. The blue light gets closer. The star on the other hand begins to fade. You try to get up.
You can feel the ache of every muscle as you try to move. You’ve been sitting too long. Slowly, as you rise the blue light disappears. You rub your eyes to get clarity. The star is no longer there. But then again neither is the boulder you were sitting on.

You look around you and the terrain is different. There are fields of well-manicured grass. There are gardens of exotic flowers. There are strange-looking artifacts that don’t look like anything you have ever seen. And surrounding it all there is a bubble of clear glass. You are small compared to the dome around you. There is no one else that you can see around you for miles. This confuses you even more. You do not know where you are.

Time is an interesting thing. Sometimes it goes fast and other times it drags on. What has happened? What is real and what is not? Once you were in Roswell and now you are here. You wish you were a doctor or scientist and had the answers. But you are not. Back in Roswell, you are just another storyteller with time to tell a tale that few will believe.

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

Listen Carefully

Listen Carefully

As a reporter for the local newspaper, I’m told to always keep my ears open and listen to all that is happening around me. It’s rare when I’m not listening. I always carry a pad with me so that I can jot down interesting tidbits of information gleaned from others’ conversations. This has caused a number of issues in relationships that I’ve had. The person I’m with might be telling me something important or sharing good things that they have accomplished, but I’m listening to the conversation of the people sitting behind me. The person that I’m with usually gets pretty upset that I’m not paying attention to what they are saying. When they ask me who am I listening to, I can’t tell them. I play dumb. In theory, eavesdropping is a crime in this state and I’m reticent to admit that that is what I was doing. That might be why I’m still single.

But sometimes, I am by myself. It can be on a subway, or a restaurant, or just walking on a crowded street. That’s the time I try to really focus on the interactions around me. 

As it happened that was the case yesterday morning when I decided to stop for a cup of coffee and a buttered roll at the local diner before depositing $300 in cash at the bank on my way to work. I found an empty table, made my order, and stared at the television monitor that they had on over the lunch counter, while I waited for my coffee to come. The TV was tuned to the local news station.  As is usually the case, there was enough noise from customers, that I couldn’t hear a word the field reporters were saying on the TV, and closed captioning was off. What I did notice was that the camera shot showed the outside of the diner I was in. I was curious about what was happening. 

It was then, that I caught the conversation of the two people that were behind me. 

“I’m telling you he knows,” said someone with a very gruff voice. 

“He doesn’t, I tell you. If he did there would be cops all over the place.” a rather high pitched, anxious sounding voice replied. 

“All I can say is that someone out there has a camera and a microphone. And if they recognize us and saw us coming in here, we’re sunk.” was the first speaker’s retort. 

I was very tempted to turn around but didn’t want to give away that I was listening in on what they were saying. 

“Why don’t we just pay up our check and then leave, separately. You’ve got the stuff. They can’t follow us both, and why should they anyway, as long as we don’t look suspicious.” This time I was sure it was a female voice. If I were to guess, she was in her early twenties. 

“Sure,” responded her partner, “I get caught, and you get away scot-free. No dice. I’m not taking the fall for this alone.”

“Then let’s just do it. Slide it under your chair and then we’ll both get up and leave. Let the next person that sits here get caught with it. That was the plan.”

Now I was really curious. 

“That’s a lot of potential cash we’re giving up,” said the gruff guy. “You know how much this is worth to the right people?” 

“It’s only money, and besides it’s not like we can’t get more of them. We’ll find someone else and just set up a new drop.”

The next thing I heard was the people behind me getting up and leaving. I turned slowly to get a glimpse of what they looked like, but they were already gone. I looked carefully where they were sitting and noticed an envelope underneath one of their chairs. I went over and picked it up. That’s when it happened. Three undercover cops quickly grabbed me and the envelope and said I was under arrest. They read me my rights, searched me, and took me out of the diner to a waiting patrol car. It didn’t help that I was carrying $300.00 in cash. Things quieted down in the diner as we were leaving. I overheard the reporter on the TV talking about the horrible potholes in the street outside the diner.

I tried to explain to the cops who I was and what I was doing, but they refused to listen. I would have shown them my notes, except I never took any, as I had been so captivated by the conversation that was going on behind me that I forgot to. 

Long story, short I was initially charged with criminal possession of counterfeit medical prescriptions. It took a while for my newspaper’s lawyers to come down to the police station and clear me.  

It turns out that the whole thing had been a sting operation in which the two people I was listening to were supposed to be dealers of counterfeit prescriptions for drugs. They were to leave the prescriptions in an envelope under their chair and the suspect was to pick up the envelope and leave cash. As luck would have it, the payment was supposed to be $300.00. In theory one of the sellers sitting at the table was to come back claiming that had they forgot something and pick up the cash.  I eventually found out that the real criminal was the waiter that had served me. 

Sometimes it pays to listen to things happening around you. But you got to be careful and make sure that what you are hearing is actually real. 

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