The Combination

            I haven’t shaved in nearly a month, and my hair on my head has grown out some, and I’ve taken to wearing my aviator sunglasses over my prescription glasses. The sunglasses over the prescription glasses can be a strange look up close, but from a distance nobody can tell the difference.

            I’ve noticed in recent days that the ladies are responding to me in a manner that they haven’t in years. I can’t figure out if it’s the sunglasses, the hair, or the beard, but it’s something. I’m not complaining. I thought I had lost it, but it turns out I still have it, but I’m not sure what it is.

            I was at a restaurant the other day and a young woman sitting at a booth with her boyfriend started to sneak peeks at me. I was flattered, but at the same time careful not to upset her relationship. I wasn’t wearing the sunglasses then, so it had to be the beard or the hair. 

            I’m not writing this story to brag. It’s just that the reaction I’ve received from women in recent days has been different from what I’m used to.

            I was driving down the road and a hoochie-mama was walking on the sidewalk in the opposite direction when she spotted me. She was a borderline woman, I couldn’t tell if she was working or not. She looked at me and I looked at her, I was puzzled by her. I turned away out of fear, but for a moment we held an uncomfortable gaze. I think she liked me.

            There have been others. I’m big with women over sixty and Mexican women who drive late model mini vans. There was a woman at a gas station who couldn’t take her eyes off of me, that never happens at gas stations, and a thirty something Hispanic woman in a white Mercury.  Somehow the animal in me is exciting the animal in them.

            I’m going to have to shave the beard to find out if it’s the hair, or cut the hair, to find out if it’s the beard. I’d like to get to the bottom of this, but for now, it’s all about the combination.

            

Smell Them Out

            I went for a walk last night. I don’t usually walk that far, just far enough to breath some fresh air, and to change things up a bit.

I was walking on the sidewalk, deep in thought, when I heard a hissing sound. I stopped. There was a juvenile skunk in front of me with his tail up. I immediately turned right, and walked down a driveway to the street to avoid him.

Wow! That little thing is so powerful that I instantaneously cowered to him. Skunks aren’t life threatening, they’re not going to eat you, or inflict bodily harm, their weapon is to create a nuisance for you. That’s all they have, a nuisance, a stench, a smell. I got to thinking, we don’t need to kill people. We can stink them out. We can create a stench so bad that people will move away, abandon ship, run for their sanity and comfort.

After my walk I drove over to my lady friend’s house. I was sitting at a stoplight, when I saw a skunk running around on a little patch of grass. It was a busy street, and he was running to the edge of the sidewalk as if he was contemplating running into the street. I whistled at him. I was trying to get him to move away from the street. He had a reckless side to him I could tell. I don’t think he heard my whistle, but I tried. I drove off, and forgot about him.

Who would eat a skunk? Do they have any predators? I wondered. I did some research when I got to my lady friends. They do, some birds can’t smell, and coyotes when they’re good and hungry will eat them.

In the morning I drove the same route home. I came to the street where I saw the skunk the night before. I smelled something funny, not pleasant. I noticed a skunk tail sticking up from the pavement. The skunk was squished but the tail was present. That tail. It fights on even in death. I tried to warn him. He wouldn’t listen.

            I added the motor vehicle to the list of skunk predators and drove on. 

P Rant

Lets see, debt crisis, joke. Republicans, a joke that isn’t funny. Democrats, jokers who have no will power.

I’ve never seen it so bad. It’s to the point where all you have to do to change policy is to be stubborn and obstinate. The fine art of oratory has gone by the wayside, and has been replaced by down right lying and arrogance. People are fooled. They fall for half-truths and sound bites and call themselves educated.

I’m going to vote for that. And that has nothing to do with their lives, their pocket books, or religion. It’s packaged goods, so the super wealthy, the oligarchy, can manipulate the masses, which history has proven to be willing and able. It’s only when people figure out that they have no meaningful way to make a living that they become concerned. Then it’s revolution, and chaos, only to be replaced by new government and the status quo. 

It’s all about the status quo. The debt crisis debate has used up two months of good time, meanwhile, congress has come to a stand still and nothing else has been talked about or accomplished.

           Nobody's talking about that, but everybody’s talking about a procedural event, which is the equivalent of wiping ones ass after defecation. It’s something necessary, but not always pleasant.

Sun Burns and Bikini's

I took the lady friend to the beach for her birthday. El Matador State Beach north of Malibu. The day started off overcast, and when we got to the beach, there weren’t many people around. We found a nice spot away from the few people that who were there, and made camp. The sun burned through the clouds and next thing I knew it was a nice day to be at the beach.

            “Wow, this is great there’s know one here,” I said.

            We couldn’t believe it. We had the beach to ourselves. Then a chubby couple came wondering onto the beach. I saw them walking towards us from the distance, I didn’t think much about them, other than they were chubby. I got up to cool off in the water, and when I came back to our area I discovered the couple had set up camp right next to us. Odd, The beach is almost empty and they set up right next to us. It didn’t feel right. It was an invasion of space. Why so close I wondered.

            We had stopped at a store before hand and bought some snacks. I bought a Salami. I reached into my bag and pulled it out. I was sitting on my towel looking at the waves and munching on my Salami. A few more people arrived, and then another couple came strolling down the beach. I saw them turn toward us. They put their towels down next to us on the other side, to close for comfort. Why? It must be my lady friends ass that’s attracting them. It had to be her ass. That’s the only thing I could think of. Her bulbous bikini clad bottom. 

Cocaina

            When Fred lived in Chicago he had a problem with cocaine. The problem followed him to Los Angeles when he moved there to keep his job. Fred worked for a television show called America’s Most Sought After. Fred’s cocaine habit was so bad he didn’t want to take a chance and not have cocaine when he got to Los Angeles, so he arranged with his dealer in Chicago to have the drugs sent to his place of work.             

            Fred wired money to his dealer and his dealer sent the drugs to America’s Most Sought After.

            The plan worked beautifully for months until one day Fred received a telephone call from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

            “We’ve noticed a substantial number of wires between Chicago and Los Angeles, from you to a man named Sergei Kochikyan. Do you know what this is all about?”

            Fred was instantly panic stricken. He froze for a moment, time traveled in light speed and without thinking he said, “You caught us. We were doing a story on the FBI and we wanted to know how long it would take for you to catch up with us. It didn’t take long. You guys are good!”                                   

            “You’re doing a story on us?”

            “Yes sir. Wait until I tell my supervisor. He’s not going to believe it! You guys are good, you guys are fantastic!”

The Dancing Bears

            My friend John had just got back into town from a vacation in Detroit. He was driving home from work. He works nights, so it was well after twelve o’clock. He had just picked up a twelve pack of beer at a local liquor store. He was almost home when he encountered a mob of unruly Mexicans teenagers. The kids jumped in front of his car and tried to impede his progress. The kids weren’t angry, but rather, they tried to intimidate John by dancing in front of him. They were like young dancing bears jumping about. One of the kids, the ringleader, had his arms up near his head with his fingers pointing toward the sky. He was hopping and rocking his arms back and forth while looking at John mockingly.

            “Okay,” John said. 
            He wasn’t amused. 

            John managed to get by the kids without incident. He parked his car and walked into his apartment. He cracked open a beer, sat down, and then he called the police.

            “Police department.”

            “Yes, I’d like to report a gang of Mexican kids who are harassing cars as they drive by on Alameda street.”

            It didn’t take long for three police cars to show up. All you have to say is a gang of Mexicans harassing people and the cops are sure to follow.

            When the kids saw the cops they scattered. One of the kids ran into John’s courtyard. As it turned out it was the ringleader. John walked outside and saw the ringleader and his girlfriend hiding in the bushes.

            “Excuse me, do you belong here?" John asked.

            The kids came out from behind the bush.

            “Honestly,” the ringleader said. “I’m hiding from the cops.”

            The ringleader didn’t recognize John, but John sure in heck recognized the ringleader.  The ringleader was looking to John for sympathy, but John wasn’t having it. John walked back into his apartment and called the police again.

            “Hi. I just called to register a complaint about the Mexican kids. Well, there’s a couple of them hiding in my courtyard. Do you need my address?” 

Eight-Ball

            I was outside making repairs to my cabin when I looked down and noticed a magic eight-ball lying in the Jade plants. I picked it up and shook it. It read, “So it shall be.”

            It occurred to me that my neighbor Carol asked me if I had seen her magic eight-ball. She said she tossed it down the hill from her balcony in a fit of rage. I guess she wasn’t satisfied with the eight-ball’s answers.

            That was months ago and the conversation was far from my mind when I stumbled upon it.

            I sat down with the eight-ball. It seemed to work okay. The blue magic water was still in place and the pyramid responses were showing themselves, albeit the answers were delayed and the pyramid was sticking a bit.

            I couldn’t help myself. I asked it a question. It was the most obvious of all questions.

            “Will I ever be wealthy?” I asked.

            I shook it and looked to the eight-ball for the answer. The answer hung up a bit. I jiggled the pyramid into place. It read, “Chances aren’t good.”

            The stupid thing was broken. Let’s try it again. I shook it up again. The answer stumbled into place. This time the answer read, “Don’t bet on it.”

            Ugh. Out of frustration I heaved the eight-ball back into the jade plants. It hit the plants and rolled down the hill. What does that broken down eight-ball know? I assured myself it was silly to give the eight-ball any kind of credibility. It’s broken! It’s no good! I’ll prove it wrong someday! For a fleeting moment my goal in life was to dispel the eight-ball, but when my anger subsided, and I calmed down, I began to think about it more rationally. As a poet, the eight-ball might be right.