People Are Crazy, Times Are Strange

 

As a stranger you slipped into my back pocket.

Filling the inset with tokens of good-byes.

Twenty-four hour chips turned over to years of near misses and heavy sighs!

The gravity to our kinship would never correlate on paper.

Before, the gathering, a rainbow’s pride had been just another friendship…

I had learned to hide.

An elk’s ashtray weighed down by Marlboro Reds and Camels.

A one person parade…

Playing out drunken disorderly in a public display of charades.

That is when this belligerent bond had been made.

Babies having babies for greed and doping needs.

 

The rebel in you, as soiled as, the dirt beneath my feet.

And, every time, I picked myself up off the ground…

Your town line is where my grime could be found.

As a strange friend you are the…Acme Staple Factory on a road that dead ends.

My best guess?

No one ever chooses to begin again.

Unless they have a stranger for a strange friend.

 

Things Have Changed – Bob (need I say more) Dylan

A worried man with a worried mind
No one in front of me and nothing behind
There’s a woman on my lap and she’s drinking champagne
Got white skin, got assassin’s eyes
I’m looking up into the sapphire tinted skies
I’m well dressed, waiting on the last train
Standing on the gallows with my head in a noose
Any minute now I’m expecting all hell to break loose
People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed
This place ain’t doing me any good
I’m in the wrong town, I should be in Hollywood
Just for a second there I thought I saw something move
Gonna take dancing lessons do the jitterbug rag
Ain’t no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag
Only a fool in here would think he’s got anything to prove
Lot of water under the bridge, Lot of other stuff too
Don’t get up gentlemen, I’m only passing through
I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road
If the bible is right, the world will explode
I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can
Some things are too hot to touch
The human mind can only stand so much
You can’t win with a losing hand
Feel like falling in love with the first woman I meet
Putting her in a wheel barrow and wheeling her down the street
I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road
If the bible is right, the world will explode
I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can
Some things are too hot to touch
The human mind can only stand so much
You can’t win with a losing hand
I hurt easy, I just don’t show it
You can hurt someone and not even know it
The next sixty seconds could be like an eternity
Gonna get low down, gonna fly high
All the truth in the world adds up to one big lie
I’m love with a woman who don’t even appeal to me
Mr. Jinx and Miss Lucy, they jumped in the lake
I’m not that eager to make a mistake
I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road
If the bible is right, the world will explode
I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can
Some things are too hot to touch
The human mind can only stand so much
You can’t win with a losing hand

the Teenaged Senior: A daughter’s dilemma

A Teenaged Senior and the Chaos they possess!

Senior Living: a daughter’s dilemma?

There is a quiet, and I am assuming, gentle little man that can be found at my local Gandhi convenience store. Gray haired, ashen and a bit on the pudgy side…Roger can only be unearthed at the Franklin Shop Express. He is either inside grasping his heart and being rude to customers. Or, he can be found outside, dirtying the earth with his Marlboro Red cigarettes. He is not an employee. No one is really sure where this Mickey Rooney knock off came from. He just is and he just arrives…out of the blue!

I chat with Roger…because he and I are on the same wave length: save the bullshit for the youngsters, we should be glad we get along.

I mention Roger because he seems to be doing the growing old thing with some style and with some sort of weird twist on ‘kick the can’…the New England way; crusty, cranky and stubbornly!

Roger is not a ‘teenaged’ senior…like my parents. Roger is a S.U.O. (senior of unknown origin). The type you would like to bring home to meet your centurion grandmother!

What is the requirement to be a teenaged senior?

  1. Older, galavant-ly matured persons…Little seniors fighting their own private technological war!’ These persons buy products to which Shark Tank would 0ffer a thumbs down and a middle finger up. And, to which, the gadget industry displays as infomercials on Sunday afternoons. Right after reruns of the Match Game’ and right before the Leave it to Beaver marathon!
  2. Teenaged Seniors are usually found off in the woods…in a home built for two. Set in a rustic setting with log cabin paraphernalia and artsy pictures of Covered Bridges. What sets these seniors apart from ‘normal’ ones? The loud noises! Everything is loud. The shutting of the refrigerator is a buxom boom, the wrapping of the known to everyone Christmas gifts can produce sounds equal to or louder than a show tune by Liberace volume 10!

    Why is it so loud? No one can hear each other…So they talk over each other…Therefore, we, they, just keep talkin’ over… each other. No one is heard but the good thing is? You get to tell and/or hear the same old story over and over again!

  3. These persons pass retirement and built with grit are willing to ‘pay for things they used to get free!‘ Paper bags, plastic bags, elastics, pens and pencils, candy from the jar at the bank, catalogs and the newspaper. These newly acquired objects of ‘another person’s trash is a senior’s person treasure,’ are often scattered about the house.

    Last year, I had been able to construct my own Shanty town out of newspapers, church flyers and L.L. Bean catalogs. This Shanty town was placed on my Teenaged Senior Parent’s lawn for the times when the whatchaMAcallits die!

  4. Jack and Jackie’s of all Trades but electronics…this worrisome group loves the following gadgets:

    GPS, Tablets, Blue Tooth and/or anything that plays games.

    ##It should be noted that recently, an elderly woman from a local town had gone missing. She was last seen trying to get Candy Crush Soda app on her GPS while searching for the nearest Dollar Store on her hand held Yahtzee game and taking her blood pressure with her Tablet!

  5. Seniors with maturity issues often come not only in pairs but in foursomes. Two small dogs, neurotic and pedigree generally find themselves a home with Teenaged Seniors. They are neurotic to begin with because they were adopted from a breeder on Craig’s list whose only recommendations were the NRA and the Moose Cutter’s Union. They continue on with their mental maladjustment by living in a loud house with persons that shower them with bling off the QVC network.

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In ending, you have caught yourself a Teenaged Senior if the following has been witnessed:

A man or a woman in a bathroom and sleepers with two extend A leashes and two coked out dogs! This person has just had a ‘spell’ in the a foot of snow and has fallen and is now yelling to their partner in crime. Their partner in crime is also in a bathrobe… It is 1: am….They are preparing to set out for the city to pay an insurance bill that has gone unpaid. Everyone has their perspective phones but none are on. There is music playing in the background…’your lights are on but no one’s home’!

Editors note:

My parents are Teenaged Seniors and have often been know to cook a steak at midnight. Forgotten to go to church though they have been going since Christ was a child. My mother currently holds the record for the largest collection of plug n play devices…for persons over 65. My father is currently adding to his screw driver set…he now has twelve in the bathroom, 16 in the family room, 10 in the office and none in the basement where they belong.

Last I saw of them, my mother had fallen because she needed that one last present out of the truck and could not wait. I’ve been told, ‘ssh, don’t tell your father!’

My father was listening to Raspberry Beret by Prince while heading to the 24 hour Pet Store at 3: am., to get a Thunder calming shirt for his over the top dog.

Me, I am just sittin’ around wondering…where’s roger?

This blog has designed specifically for those with selective sight!

Selective Sight: choosing to see only those things that we want to see!

-support your mental health everyday…humor and a good bowel movement should do the trick!

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Have you been saved?

 

 

 

 

Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.”  ― Franz Kafka
Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.”
― Franz Kafka
 
 
A moral dilemma had rolled into my local town.  For that matter, it sat itself down on most of the northeast, parts of the south, all of the west and bear hugged the world…
The Truth or Dare local news sent out selfies of anchor persons with looks of confusion and pronounced images of DAH expressions!
The local networks…usually based upon 24 hours of cute kittens and huggable puppies…announced ‘doomsday‘.  The New Hampshire Homeland security agency sent out ‘hold on to your big girl panties’ emergency texts…Inconsistently, because most of the agents were busy helping old ladies cross the streets.
A small gesture has greatness with faith
A small gesture has greatness with faith
All messages whether blatant or obscured by urban slang, warned, evacuate your towns ASAP.  Pick up your trailer and find higher ground! 
‘The End is Near’ and
‘The End is Near You!’
Being a true blue blond.  Being fair of hair but loosened by too much gluttony, I gave up on my cynicism and fell for the ‘Dirty Laundry’ flashing upon my tablet’s screen.  Similar to Moses with the tree and/or bush…that some pyro’ set on fire…I knew my Higher Power had spoken to me via the change of the winds and the stare of the cats!  An epic spiritual event was about to happen and I had no one but me to blame!
Climbing upon a stolen milk crates stacked several stories high, I found room on a widow’s walk for seven cats, two dogs and one lesbian and myself (who also happens to be a queer).

Violence...unhappy dreams giving the illusion of warmth
Violence…unhappy dreams giving the illusion of warmth
I said to myself in a last gasp Marlboro Red voice,
‘Self, I trust in my Higher Power and if any of the forty legged family is in peril…an angel will fall upon me like ‘Baby Mommas to a poor town’ and save my sorry ass.
Sure enough, a text:
White Officer not indicted in the shooting of an unarmed African-American teenager…
The day rolled along, as most, ‘The End’ is always near, days go…
Yet, another text message:
NYPD cop goes unscathed after choking a young black man to death…
…As the young man pleads, I can’t breathe.  I can’t breathe!
 
As I stood amongst the fur, the ass-fault and the shingles, a neighbor shuffled by in her Moo-Moo.
‘Ruth, come down from there.  WTF!  Are you off your meds again?  Get in the Mini van and let’s head for the hills!  The shit is ’bout to hit the fan!’
I smiled a rainbow smile.  I nodded a liberal grin.  And, I calmly stated:
‘No, Dot, you and Jay Z jr., head on out.  Our angel will be coming to release us from this…a moral dilemma doomsday!’
The violent hearts kept rising higher, the languid lies, the avoided dishonesty and a world-full of not good began to overtake my mythical septic tank.
Honestly, the shit just stank!
My house filled with looking the other way.  My den became entrenched with disloyalty.  My home was soon becoming filthy with conformity and ethically bad worldly events!  There would be nothing left to do but jump!
Soon falling down would have to happen.  Soon a quiet little family from north of north…would become a blimp on the TSA‘s radar!
Franklin‘s also had a ‘up to no good’ police squad, akin to other poorly dealt authority figured small towns.  They too must have smelt a change in the air.  They too must have heeded the call, ‘if there is an accident…always wear clean underwear’!  They too came by!
‘Ruth, get you skinny white ass down off the roof.  Ruth, you’re in trouble and this time we’re telling you the truth!’
I spoke with gusto…
‘No, no, no!  Save someone else who really needs saving.  Help someone else’s cat out of a tree!’
I sent them all away.  The lack of News media, the lack of human-ness police.  The lack-less and gossip more neighbor. 
I sent them all away…Knowing an angel is on her way!
And, in the end?
Another text.  A lasting message:
Another person dies today for no reason.  Another person took another person life.  Another person will not see The End!
 
As I sat alongside my loved ones, I beckoned to the sky!  As I took a forever ending breath…I spoke to the heavens:
I put my faith in you.  You my supposed Higher Power.  I opened my mind and soul to you.  I begged you to rid me of the sadness the had fallen upon to my kin. 
Why didn’t you help me?  Why didn’t you feel my pain?  Why did you leave me in this…a shredding from the inside out world?
A sound like no other rose from the ashes of a world rotting from tooth decay.  A noise spoken from the ashes of my Ash tree.  A voice with no body.  A power covered with humility and saturated with goodness, spoke to me:
I sent you on angel.  You shot him.
I sent you another angel.  He begged you to look before you act.  You choked him.
And, lastly, I sent an angel to you each and everyday.  Each and every hour.  Each and every second.  You did not feed him.  You did not cloth her.  And, mostly, you passed them all by like they were strangers on the street.  Not the family they were.  The family you just didn’t have time to meet!