A Further Adventure of Winnie the Pooh (first version)

As the morning sun rose over the trees, Winnie the Pooh came across his friends at a
clearing in the woods. "Hello" he said to Rabbit, Tigger, and Piglet. They each returned his greeting, then Tigger said "where's Christopher Robin?". Pooh frowned and said "He is staying in his room all morning, says he's going be with Victoria."
"Who's Victoria?" asked Rabbit. Pooh sighed... "I dunno, I haven't met her yet."
"Well, if he wants to spend this whole morning with her, she must be a nice person" said Rabbit. "Yes, very nice" chimed in Piglet. "I suppose," said Pooh as he stared at the ground, then added, "he says she has a secret to tell him."
Tigger sprung to his feet, "Ooh... She should tell her secret to me! We Tigger's are
the best at keeping secrets!"
"No, no, Tigger" said Rabbit, "She doesn't know you... It is a secret, after all". Tigger reluctantly agreed and sat back down. "How long has Christopher Robin known her?" asked Piglet. "I'm not sure" said Pooh, "I think he met her at school."
"Gee Pooh" said Piglet, "I'm not sure they know each other well enough to be tellin' secrets. This whole thing makes me a little nervous."
"Everything," said Rabbit annoyingly, "makes you nervous Piglet."

At that moment, Eeyore came slowly into the clearing. "Hey everybody" he said quietly. "Hello Eeyore" they all said at once. "What are you guys talking about?" asked Eeyore. Tigger was back on his feet, "Christopher Robin is visiting with a girl this morning, and they're sharin' secrets! I wish I could be there too, we tiggers are soooo good with keeping secrets!" "Tigger..." said Rabbit and Tigger sat back down. "Hmm, I don't know" said Eeyore, "I don't like secrets. They're always so mysterious, and I don't like mysteries either."
"Yes" said Piglet, "Eeyore's right. I think we should go to the house and stop this entire thing... maybe." And Tigger was back on his feet "Yes!" he shouted, "it'll be our biggest adventure ever... To keep the secret a secret!"
"I'm not sure we should interfere" said Pooh, "I think he was looking forward to this."
"I think I agree with Piglet" said Rabbit, "I think secret are something Chirstopher Robin doesn't need to be involved with. I say we go to the house."
Pooh looked up, and at his friends. Then he said "I suppose, I mean... I think we will be helping him, and I will do anything to help Christopher Robin."
"It's settled then" said Rabbit. "Oh, boy. Let's go" added Tigger.

As the sun continued to rise over the trees, Winnie the Pooh and his friends marched
through the woods. They were all determined to get to Christopher Robin's house and keep that secret, a secret...

A Little Perspective

One day recently at work I was explaining to a co-worker some of the reasons why I don’t get angry while I’m there. I finished my sermon with “So basically, at two dollars and some change an hour, it isn’t worth it for me to get all bent out of shape.” Her response to my many excellent points was this: “you have a really good perspective.” Perspective. What does that word mean anymore? It’s easy for one to lose their perspective in a world where they can buy and sell items with someone in Moscow (or any other spot on earth). I wonder; if I really had perspective, shouldn’t I just come across a lot of money (probably “illegally”) and spend my very limited time on this speck, hurling through an infinite universe, having as much fun as I can. I should travel across the globe (probably “robbing” some banks along the way) and experience as much as I can during this galactic blink. Time is so fleeting, and I’m wasting it scratching out a meager paycheck. I could be sipping martinis under the Eiffel Tower while waiting for a flight to Australia, to try a little koala wrestling. Koala wrestling is just one of the millions upon millions of things I have not yet done during this cosmic snap of the fingers. Of course, I couldn’t let the pursuit of multiple law enforcement agencies get me down, as I venture to make the most of my time. They probably wouldn’t understand anyway. I would have to leave them notes that say “but the sun will burn out in 15 billion years, there is no time” on the pillows of the motel rooms I stayed in… perhaps other notes that say “earth is only 4 billion years old, far too early to judge my actions”. Hopefully, I would be able to avoid capture long enough to leave many such notes and they will start to see things from my perspective. At last, when they stop referring to my journey as a “crime spree”, I know I’ll be on easy street. “Finally”, I would say “looks like they are starting to see my point of view”. Me, my loot, “forged” documents, and Jenna Fischer (did I mention that she’d come with me?) would then be able to experience as much as possible during this plenum blip, so long as we keep a low profile.

poem 2 (an ad-lib)

Within the longest hours of the day
Trying to make the keyboard obey
The mind goes on a different path
Placing me in an inexpressive wrath
I try to collect these thoughts unseen
And find myself taking in more nicotine
The laziness overt
My brain now inert
And spilling out dirt
Where’s my lucky shirt
Perhaps if I could find an idea machine
It could keep these lines out of the latrine
Instead here is my humdrum warpath
Leaving ennui like a ring in the bath
I think poetry may not be my forte
Fine this time for I must dump my ashtray

an addictive act

I have smoked cigarettes for years. There might come a day when I decide, truly, to quit. Today isn’t that day though, I enjoy it too much. The actual smoking is what I enjoy, not so much the occasional coughing, or the nic fit when I go without for a while.
Anyway, those trivial matters aside; it’s what it is, to be a real smoker, which I would like to discuss.
There are a lot of things to consider, being a smoker. I will list a few here:
1) Having at least one pack, always
2) Having the money for said pack (and back-ups)
3) Having a working lighter
4) Having additional back-up packs
5) Having a back-up lighter
6) Knowing where all this stuff is
7) Making sure this stuff is easily accessible
8) Knowing where smoking is allowed (this gets more difficult each day)
9) Having at least one pack, always
The nature of the addiction is to make number one important, therefore, it must be mentioned twice.
So, having laid down a few basics, I will let my rant begin.
In most any social setting, at any time, I find myself going through the same scene. I can’t seem to avoid it, and I’m resigned to always playing my part. One day, I’ll ad-lib (if I really need to get into an argument, or a fight), but for now, the scene goes something like this:

Act 1- Scene1
Curtain rises on a bunch of people, standing outside a night-club. Danny stands at stage left, quietly enjoying his cigarette. After a minute, Random Guy makes his entrance.
Random Guy: “Sup”
Danny: “Sup”
Random Guy lingers around for a moment.
Random Guy: “Hey, can I get a smoke from you?”
Danny: “Sure, here”
Danny rummages around in his pocket, withdraws a pack, removes and hands over a cigarette.
Random Guy: “Thanks, man”
Danny: “No problem” Then turns, and goes back to enjoying his cigarette.
Random Guy: “Um, you gotta light?”
Danny: (sighs) “Yea, here…”
Danny reaches back into his pocket, and pulls out a cheap lighter. The kind of cheap lighter that anyone can find, for like, 99 cents at any convenience store, anywhere. I mean, there is practically a Quik-Trip on every street corner. I’m not talking about forming an expedition, to find the Holy Grail; I’m talking about buying a Bic. Then he lights the cigarette.
Danny: “Perhaps you’d like me to smoke it too. Ha, ha.” A loud chortle, to make Random Guy think he’s just kidding.
Random Guy: “Ha, ha… Yea, so anyway, thanks”
Danny: “Hey, don’t mention it”
Random Guy exits. Danny finishes his cigarette.
End scene: Curtain comes down.

Such real life events never win a Tony Award, and that’s too bad, or I would have run out of room in my trophy case years ago. But, I want to point out a few things in that scene. You probably noticed that Random Guy hadn’t covered any of the basics, which I outlined earlier. I need to say, Random Guy took a hit of the cigarette, and he didn’t turn green and start an uncontrollable coughing fit. He actually is a smoker! I simply don’t understand it. Is it the cost of smoking? Would he just rather me pay for his habit? These things are near four dollars a pack! I spend enough, just to support my own consumption. Did he run out? I run out, it happens, but, I don’t throw my lighter away when I do. Is he in the process of quitting? I’ve been there, done that. If you’re going to smoke one, you might as well just buy a pack, because it doesn’t work that way. I tell people that I quit every time I put one out, but, serious quitting is all or nothing (and you can ask Preston about that, too. Or, any other former smoker).
I’m a nicotine junkie, therefore I adhere to the previously mentioned basics. When I plan to drive anywhere, I carry my keys. If I plan to buy something, I carry money. Knowing I’m going to smoke, I keep the necessary implements on my person. These, in my mind, are all proverbial American Express cards- “Never leave home without it.”
But then, I did say “in my mind,” and that makes it all complete, utter, universal, and absolute nonsense…

poem 1

Disturbed by the morning sun
a look at the time, got to run.
Out of the shower in three minutes
clamoring across the familiar routes.
Of course, running late again today
knowing I don’t want to join the fray.
Now in the car, must turn the key
to fulfill my role as faithful employee.
Damn these cars I’ll never get there
and I’m pulling out the last of my hair.
Finally I’ve reached my personal hell
to spend all day being as a gazelle.
Springing from the left and the right
asking morons “would you like more Sprite?”
Constantly eyeing the clock on the wall
all the while suffering nicotine withdrawal.
The day wraps up after counting my dough
and already I’m dreading tomorrow.

Some Haiku

Coffee in my mug
Loud music on the stereo
Where is my lighter

Lay around all day
Eat a really big burger
Head on to bed

Reading some Nietzsche
Listening to some Zappa
I do love Tuesdays

Monkey nut tulip
Wheezing in the tense airflow
We should know better

A lot on the mind
Universe between the ears
What color is best

Left to my devices
Beyond a sea of boredom
Tuning the guitar

Slipping past ecru
Time fractures in its own way
Become the wrangler

“Que” asked the stranger
A reckoning in the car
Stifling the disposed

I realize the hour
The hands point high on the clock
Another day ends

This haiku is bad
here are seven syllables
and here are five more

Beer goes down easy
falling across the spaces
I can't feel my nose

Walk the rim beyond
meandering on the shore
need some time to think

Living in the now
the lottery can't be trusted
the machine churns on

Random word suffice
memories awaken now
past remains a-far

Floundering the test
looking frontward from the rear
a hope swells within

Need things to happen
get it together Jackets
avert the nonsense

Good fortune abound
an end to this foolishness
time to stop typing