Passport Pictures

“OMG! That’s, ME? Okay, That’s I?”

“That’s you, sweetheart.”

“Damn, lie to me, woman, don’t let me try to sleep  tonight with that ugly truth in my sub-conscious.”

“You ‘OMGed’ when you saw you new driver’s license some months ago.”

“Yeah, I know, but, at least, the Driver’s License was in vivid color. This passport picture looks more black and white than color – more gray than black… Geez, my eyes look vacant and without any show of life…”

“Come on, honey, you’re becoming obsessed. I never knew your ego to go this far out north of kilter. You know drivers’ licenses and passport pictures are always horrible.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right, but it’s still a shock seeing my face in a depressing morgue’s gray slide-out chamber… By the way, where the hell might we be going? We just got to Phoenix a few weeks ago. That’s a beastly long drive for an internationally successful and wealthy author.”

“Uh, darling, you’re spacing out again…forget who you’re talking to?”

“I believe that should be, ‘…to whom you’re talking?”

“Oh, shut up and eat your oatmeal, grammar-hog.”

“I hate oatmeal! You know, your passport is no image winner, either!”

“Okay, I’m taking your oatmeal away.”

“That was the plan, dear heart.”

“You and your passport make good companions. I’m giving your oatmeal to ‘Lady Gray’.”

“Okay, that ‘draws the line’ so I’m using my ‘Executive Privilege’. You may not torture my beautiful ‘Lady Gray’ by feeding her something that only you like… You and your new passport sleeping in the guest room tonight?”

“No, you are!”

“Ah, you win some and you lose some…um, no kiss, ‘goodnight’…”

BR Chitwood – Feb. 20, 2020

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Being Who You Are

Image Art by: Lacie Slezak – Unsplash.com

Not so tough?

Au contraire, methinks!

Some people (ahem!) go through life too calculative in their environments, measuring an action and/or response that best benefits their position in any setting – a dinner date, a business meeting, even in a close and personal family discussion.

To various degrees, I’m sure it is part of our genetic structures ,and some of our closest allies, friends and loved ones are part of this non-sinister population.

Well, in most cases, I believe this ‘non-sinister’ qualifier applies. However, make no mistake about it, the evil ones of the world are born into or grow-up in a dark and gray surrounding and learn quickly the manipulative and criminal side of this calculative phenomenon. Most good people who live long enough come to know the predators who appear before them with some tired, time-worn scam and deftly remove themselves from the petty crook’s presence.

Some are not so fortunate…

Take me, for example…

Years past, in Monterey, California, I met some clients in Salinas’ famous ‘Cannery Row’ at a gourmet restaurant of some 5-Star ranking.

‘Cannery Row’ was people and traffic busy, and I parked my car in a dark alley area between some buildings. As I stepped from the alley onto the main street where the restaurant was located, two young men stopped me to ask directions to an address I had no clue…and their car broke down and ‘could I possible take them to where they wanted to go’? After a brief chat, easily sizing them up, I walked away thinking the two young men were amateurs in their con-artist attempts, but I could easily mark them as sinister.

 Just a few doors down the sidewalk I entered the restaurant, met my clients, and forgot about the young men.

After too many cocktails and a fine dinner, I left my clients and walked back down the sidewalk to the alleyway and entered the now ‘even darker-black’ area where my car was parked.

 As I turned from the alleyway and into the parking area, two young men, one on either side of me, grabbed my arms. Both men had tight grips on my upper arms, and the man on my right was jabbing the meaty part of my bicep. I felt little pain because of the tight grip he had just below the bicep. Wearing a heavy gray suit, I was thinking that heavy cloth was keeping the pain level at a low point.

The two men demanded my wallet, all the while talking their street-smart talk and vulgar threats. The man on the left finally found my wallet in my inside suit-coat pocket.

Someone yelled. I don’t know who or from where, but the two men dashed away into the thick darkness with my wallet…that was back in the day when cash was still a payment option. There was over one-hundred dollars in the wallet…at that time, a fair amount of money.

I yelled at the men and made a feeble attempt at running in the direction they had taken. I could no longer see them when they were only twenty or thirty feet from me.

Maybe the cocktails saved me that night on ‘Cannery Row’, and, admittedly, I was a little high on booze.

As I walked down the short alleyway and onto the sidewalk, a few people rushed to me, and, somehow, I did not know why…did not know why they were concerned about me.

Then I saw the right arm of my gray suitcoat – it was saturated with blood…the hood had used a pocket-knife as he jabbed me time and again, his grip on my arm so tight I could not feel the penetration into my bicep.

The police came.

I gave them the only information I could give them, described the two men who had confronted me down the sidewalk from the restaurant.

I went back to my Monterey hotel and pondered my loss – of money and of dignity.

A couple days later my wallet was found, credit cards still in their place, but, of course, you know, no money.

So, back to the beginning…

If you have not thought about the calculative gene in your body, be aware every day in your social outings. It can even be a ‘fun gene’ to have at times when subtlety and deviousness are teasing elements.

I’m not saying, ‘live in fear’, no way. Just be aware of who you are AND with whom you may be interacting.

We all have that gene within us, so, be who you are, have fun with it, BUT ‘be aware’.

BR Chitwood – Feb. 14, 2020

-HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY-

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Too Many Gauges

-A Dialogue, PLUS-

 

JH: “Interesting ‘Title’, Billy Ray. Why  do you use that title?”

 

BRC: “Why ‘not’ that title’, John?”

 

JH: “Well, I don’t really know. Maybe it’s nothing, but ‘gauges’ usually refer to automobiles, furnaces, machinery of some sort. Titles of topics should signify interest before the reading starts, don’t you think?”

 

BRC: “Yes, of course, but why would not someone think just looking at the title that it could be probably interesting?”

 

JH: “I said it was an interesting title. I’m just asking, ‘why’ the title?”

 

BRC: “Sure, but you’ve already shown that the title interested you. So, what you’re really asking me is to tell you the ‘dialogue’ so you don’t have to read it, correct?”

JH: “Geez Whiz, Billy Ray, I just asked, why do you use that title, and you’re acting like I broke a commandment or some sacred oath. I mean, it’s a ‘given’ I’m going to read ‘Too Many Gauges’. I’m just asking, ‘why do you use that title’?”

 

BRC: “Okay, okay. What does the word, gauges, mean to you?”

 

JH: “Gauges measure things, like a car’s gas gauge tells you if you’re about out of gas. A thermometer tells you how high your fever is…”

 

BRC: “Right, and you know I would not write something simple like that, and you want to draw me into a long chat about what ‘gauges’ means in this piece I’ve just written, and, you know my ‘gauges’ will be more of a philosophical bent than simple gas gauges and how sick someone might be. You would likely shift into a ‘funny mode’ and want to know if I would be writing about an anal or oral thermometer. It would turn out that my article would become yours. Then, I would have to hide from you and re-write a whole different article. You’re so easy to see through, John.”

 

JH: “Well, would you?”

 

BRC: “Would I, what?”

 

JH: “Would you be writing about an anal and/or oral thermometer?”

 

BRC: “John, you know I love you, but you’re beyond any possible hope…”

 

JH:“Ah, c’mon, buddy, lighten up. I’m going to read your dialogue thingy. Just give me a fast synopsis of your use of gauges in your article. Just, whet my appetite for more, okay?”

 

BRC: “Okay (sigh), I’m in bed, can’t sleep, a toss and turn night, emptying my bad kidneys every hour, and, okay, feeling sorry for myself, thinking about my life and times…why so much romancing and vagabonding instead of becoming POTUS (Yuck! Does anyone really want that job?), the greatest writer in the world, an ‘Oscar-winning’ actor, and/or, just an ordinary ‘picket fence’ guy with family and love…

 

“Yeah, I even thought about you, also like me, playing the ‘Corp Games’, about all your ’Willet Bourbon Intake’, your checking in and out of the ‘dry-out clinics’, your DUI tickets, the shame you carried after spending that time in the ‘slammer’…yeah, you had a tough go of it, John. My heart bled for you – that is, until you took one of my women, after all the lies you told about me. Funny how you’ve stayed together all these years with one of my favorite ladies and the dogs you stole out of the kennel…that really hurt, John…you knew I wanted my favorite lady and those dogs.

 

“Okay, open the fist, John. You know I’m just roasting you because you are a better writer than I, have a better blog than I, prevaricate so much more convincingly than I can (just, kidding). You, John, are  a standard bearer for all would-be ‘gentle-men’, and I love you, Man.

 

“Those were the gauges misread by me, John, those attributed here in this post, the missed opportunities, the chances at ‘greatness’ that I had and never took advantage of – those are the ‘mis-read’, or, ‘did not read’, gauges.

 

“There is some solace in the recounting. While too busy passing up my many opportunities, my life is complete now, with Julie Anne, Lady Gray, and our wonderful children and grandkids. When all is finally written I’ve had a rather fascinating life…

 

“With years left to come…”

 

JH: “You finished?”

 

BRC: “Yep, all done…”

 

JH: “Good. You will hear from my attorney tomorrow.”

 

BRC: “The gorgeous blonde? Or, the wrinkled-faced Methuselah?”

JH: “You giving odds?”

 

BR Chitwood – Feb. 11, 2020

*

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Now, I Know

Growing up you get a lot of platitudinal advice on ‘how to live your life and how to settle into Twilight, the euphemism for ‘old age’. You are  smiling while acknowledging all the bromides, like: You’ve reached the ‘Twilight Years’; like, how’s Twilight treating you; like, Ah, Twilight, no more corporate B/S; like, what’s the Tee-Time? Like, honey, can we just stay home and watch movies? (Of course, home/movies are good, inside and outside of Twilight.)

During the school years and on into the early adult years, you thought you were going to live forever.

Would age sixteen ever arrive so you could get your driver’s license? Would the beastly acne be with you for all your life? Why did time move so slowly? You wanted to get out into the adult world and make your marks…on and on, what your parents, your that your beloved aunts, cousins, uncles, grandparents, friends, told you – the ever-Doubting Thomas’ – those lovely platitudes with smiles of love on their faces.

Life’s realities could not touch you. You were invincible. You were going on to accomplish so much in your lives.

Some of you did.

Some of you did not.

So, I’m the living proof. ‘Now, I Know’ those truths.

So, maybe the biggest truth of all is our ‘Deaths’, in believing that this entire chaotic business of living and dying is the unfolding of a higher order, a Deity – God – calling the shots on this thing we humans refer to as, Life.

‘Now, I Know’ those truths?

There is a label much of the world uses for believing that ‘God Calls the Shots’.

Faith is that grand label, and there is a plethora of History, including the Bible, that backs up that label. Some of those historical documents many of us have been privy to in life.

Of course, there are naysayers: those who believe in a ‘Big Bang theory’ of how we all got here on this Planet Earth: ‘Big Bang’, apparently meaning there was a huge explosion in the Universe and/or Galaxy and that created you, me, and all the other living creatures… really, that big bang creating all the wonders that we see: day, night, week, month, year, births of humans and all forms of life?

Well, each of us can make our own decision regarding Faith. For me, there seems to me some statistical mention of probability is in order, unless those arguing against Faith in God believe the Big Bang can claim the very same mystical magic as God.

Well, the only truth that matters, or, un-truth, depending on your own belief-system, must come from the individual.

Because I’m the individual writing this post, I’ll take the gauntlet. Here’s the truth as I came up with it:

I was born in Appalachia in a sawmill camp in bad economic times…you can read all about that if there’s an interest in my two memoirs: THE CRACKED MIRROR – REFLECTIONS OF AN APPALACHIAN SON and/or WHAT HAPPENS NEXT – A LIFE’S TRUE TALE (both books are on Amazon and other ‘buy sites’).

Now, Appalachia gets its share of bromidic tease, and that’s fine with me, but, my religious indoctrination dealt with ‘fire and brimstone’ – ‘Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God’, meaning one could not reach ‘The Pearly Gates’ if he/she cursed or uttered nasty words and phrases, had thoughts of sexual encounters, danced, smoked, and other daily routines one might have which could be considered unrighteous.

 It was tough emotionally being a kid in that environment, let me tell you, being conscious every minute, every day of everything you said and did. Well, it was just a scary way to live.

The biggest ‘hitch’ I found to the Big Bang Theory was that long nine-month period it takes for a life to begin. My feeling was always: ‘Whoa, there! That nine-month period of birth had some intricacies that was difficult to explain – just think, that Big Bang debris all settling and making everything what it is today. I just find it hard to accept that the Big Bang could create a baby’s birth, with all its complicated and intricate stages over that nine-month period.

So, I found it easier to accept the idea that a Higher Intelligence brought this ‘thing’ called Life. It also became clear to me that, since no one could tell me in any factual and sensible terms I could understand, ‘how a Big Bang carried all that preciseness’, I was just going to believe, have Faith that God was calling the shots…at least, I had a chance at being correct: if I was right, maybe I go to heaven; if not right, well, I was just going to become dust to dust. So, I guess one could say: “What have you got to lose? One way or another, you’re dead and don’t have a lot to say about ‘where you go’ upon death. It did not cost anything to hang onto Faith.

My guess is that this little romp about life and death won’t have much of an audience, but I feel better about things having written it.

Enjoy your living and try a little ‘Faith’ or a lot of Faith.

Don’t see how it can hurt you.

We all must go sometime.

However, everyone should know this: I plan on being around here for a while yet. I’ve got more writing to tap out on this old laptop, say, until around 2038. I surely hope that does not displease anyone. If it does displease anyone, would you mind terribly keeping it to yourselves?

*

BR Chitwood – Feb. 9, 2020

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Mystical Moments

[Image Art by: Chad Walton – Unsplash.com\

Mystical Moments must come with age and consent from a source governed by our Deity’s  genetic wiring, with each delicate connection moving our actions and  thoughts in the direction favored by the Holy One.

How else do the memories of love, life’s failures, successes, and emotional impulses invade our present with their melancholic messages, their poignancy, their Joy, their Tenderness, their regrets and sorrows?

How many of us are blessed, or, cursed, with these Mystical Moments? Is it, after all, a Holy Contest? If so, who are deemed the victors?

For example, what are the rewards, for those who spend their lives in a  world of quandaries and romantic ballads?

Do they get to come back to another life and advance their Holy Standing? Becoming more Holy?

Or, do those who go blithely through this life with easy gaits, maybe some with criminal intent, get to come back to have more Mystical Moments and become more Holy?

But, then, why would one be favored over the other?

Is It simply a Holy Epigram, these Mystical Moments, not worthy of the space given in a blog post?

Perhaps that is the quickest way to rid the mind of any such philosophical meandering, and, for some readers of my words here: they will think this is merely all presumptuous B/S.

However, my Corp-life over and living far too much in my active mind, it is a necessary diversion that keeps me awake too long into the night until the thoughts become all too clearly the presumptuous B/S mentioned in the paragraph above.

BR Chitwood – February 5, 2020

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The Red, White, and Blue

Image Art by: Jon Sailer – Unsplash.com

*

Slow down, slow down,

You’re moving too fast.

You’ll pass out, Man!

Your face is beet-red!

Your shirt, dripping sweat.

You’ve done all you can.

*

One block to go…

I can make, I know.

Don’t slow me down.

The folks need to know,

About the Iowa sham,

Iowa ‘Caucus’, by damn.

*

So, what’s in the box?

Why such a rush?

They’ve waited all night,

And, another day.

Why so urgent,

Mighty Mite?

*

The box carries evidence

That the new voting system,

From a well-known source,

Is Bogus and fraud,

Developed from bigotry,

Hatred and bedlam sought.

*

So, why is it you, Sam,

Delivering this sad news?

Will you not be vilified?

Mocked by the Press?

Why must it be you, Sam?

To convey this partisan-mess?

*

Why should it not be me?

A patriot, loyal and true,

I will strive forever to

Give what is mine to give

To this great Republic I

Love: the red, white, and blue.

*

Let it then be recorded here

Along Constitution Avenue

Where the record will be

‘Most  glorified by your haste,

 Sam, a  man motivated by love

Of country and his Faith’.

*

No glory need be given any man

Acting with the love and pride

of his Country, his deed only

To right the ‘Ship of State’

And its fundamental belief

That all people are created equal.

*

BR Chitwood – Feb. 4,2020

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Books Must Breathe

By BR Chitwood

What is he talking about now?

Yeah, I know, I know, I get an appetite for writing these blog posts when I don’t sleep so well…thoughts churning, mysterious flashes on the mountain-top outside my bedroom window, car lights in the night, wakeful dreaming.

So, what the hell’s new?

A Book Must Breathe???

Well, yeah, for me, a book must breathe…

Have you read a book review where a critic says, ‘a little boring in spots, but, overall, a darn good read’? Even gives it  5-Stars?

The ‘boring in spots’ is the breath of the book. It’s this author ‘laying-back’, putting some flesh on her/his characters, giving them their bodies, their faces, their good and bad ideas, their patterns for living, yet, always, keeping those ‘explosive thrill elements’ a page or two away, giving some semblance of routine, daily regimen to the characters and events…

Now, understand, this is coming from a ‘non-Best-Selling’ author who perhaps sold $175.00 worth of books last year, a writer who does not depend so much on book royalties as do others. I had a ‘Corp-Life’ – such as it was – and left my creative urges to languish behind mahogany desks and a whole bunch of B/S and ‘Brown-Nosing Sycophants’.

I was the ideal guy for the ‘Corp-Life’ as I had developed in those years after Appalachia my own brand of life-preserving B/S and humor – not to mention a ‘girl-chasing’ machine ready for action any place, any time…

Back to ‘books breathing’…

Well, for me, there’s always vital information ‘between the lines of a book’, not only on ‘the action lines’ of a book. Yes, I know most people do not want to be bored with all the machinations of a book’s characters, their dalliances, their bad jokes, their ‘nose-picking’ habits, favorite television shows, back-stabbing neighbors, and those peculiar idiosyncrasies they carry with them to bedevil anyone who comes near.

Well, with me doing the writing, and, not knowing how to sell what I’m writing, I allow that pretty ‘Lady Muse’ to take me where she wants to take me. Being a ‘Pantser’, that’s what I do, kill the readers with the marvelous literature along with the merciless mundanity, giving them the thrill of the action but making them suffer along with me to put clothes, mind-sets on my characters, and, of course, to get the page count at a friendly altitude…

So, now you know…I’m going to write you a savory stunner of a story, usually inspired by some unplugged idiot or idiots who have to show-off their evil ways, and the crafty-crusaders who have a particular hatred for the aforementioned ‘bad actors and actresses’.

Now, in the body of all this lively action and brief napping times, I’m going to throw in some romance, some love tokens, that will balance the narrative and send you to a happy place in your mind.

I’m just saying…if you read one hundred books in this year of 2020, my guess is you will rate my books in the upper half of what you read, maybe, even, the upper one-fourth of what you read… You understand? I have to say this – no one else will.

The movie makers can root out some jabbering here and there in my books to make their two-hour films, but the reader gets the full measure of my ‘swing and sway’.

Hey, a book has to breathe.

Because I suffered with a spotty sleep last night, you few people who still go to my posts have gotten the wisdom and wit of it all today.

Oh, incidentally, my just published Sci-Fi masterpiece is ready for the thousands of sci-fi fans out there who are expected to buy it…

Who the hell am I kidding?

I have included a short link for buying “Serpent Rock,” and please be timely before Amazon  sells out.

Okay, okay, I’m going for a nap…

Unless I fell for a prevarication, there’s a Universal BUY link for:

-SERPENT ROCK-

 mybook.to/my-serpent-rock

 

BR Chitwood – February 4, 2020

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My Conversation With Jacob

A Conversation With Jacob

Jacob is my imaginary friend, but he is real to me because he is my resource for living. Today we are sitting on the long deck of my log home, watching the squirrels scurry through the trees, up and down, and all around. An occasional bird drops by as if to say hello and/or to warn the squirrels of some danger nearby… This is the beginning point of my conversation with Jacob.

 “Jacob, why is it that I’m rather fascinated by the activities of squirrels and birds?”

“You give me too much power of comprehension, BR. That’s okay because I know why you give me that power. You want so much to figure things out for yourself, to allow for a natural flow of understanding to come through your own mind…”

“Okay, Jacob, you’ve reminded me of that time and again…just answer my question.”

“Well, of course, I remind you time and again and that is because you seem to be in some haste to find answers which should be obvious to you, yet you seek confirmation from me, your alter ego and closest ally.”

“There you go again. Please, just answer the question.”

“You are looking at the squirrels and the birds to find meaning for your own life. You know that it is September and the squirrels are busy gathering their provisions for the winter. The birds stop by to neighborly check on their progress and to determine when it might be best for them to venture south… Now, ask your bigger question.”

“Okay, Jacob, how am I connected to all of this? And, stop being flippant with me.”

“Being flippant was not my intent, BR, but you must admit it’s a bit ‘squirrely’ when one has conversations with himself… Your connection to all of this? (Ah, a squirrel just skittered down a tree – see it, BR?)”

“Of course, I see it… You couldn’t see it if I didn’t see it!”

“Very good, BR! I’m truly attached to you.”

“You were saying about my connection to all of this?”

“Your connection to the squirrels and birds and all living things with which you come into contact is that ‘Cogito – Ergo – Sum’ thing. You think, therefore you are. You stand and walk where you walk and perceive, react, and assimilate information. The squirrels do so as fiercely as you do. They do what they do to exist – a rather simple truth, don’t you agree? The bears, bees, butterflies, cats, cows, dogs, eels (shall I run the alphabet of living things?), they all do what it is their species do and have done ad infinitum. You are the so-called ‘higher order’ so you make the world more complicated because of that ‘Cogito, ergo sum’ thing. You think things to a point of obsessive behavior…”

“Well, sure, we think. We also get to the moon. We get to Facebook and Twitter, to super sonic jets, to big cities with all the playthings we want. Our knowledge is doubling so quickly that we’re defining and re-defining ourselves at warp speed. Are you telling me we are moving too fast, not fast enough, or, we shouldn’t be creating all the digital wonders?”

“No and I’m reasonably sure you already know that. You did forget to mention that we create ways to destroy ourselves, the big blast thing that’s nuclear. (Remember Charlton Heston at the end of one of those ‘Planet of the Apes’ movies where ‘Lady Liberty’s’ head and torso are half-buried in the beach sand?) All I’m saying is we are doing some things that just naturally come with all our smarts and ingenuity, and that’s good. What bothers me (ergo, you) is that we might very well be forgetting our hearts and souls. In this mad dash for making our lives so much digital and decidedly easier, are we just becoming cold and detached to matters of the heart and soul? And/or, is that the way this existential thing works? Is that really what these squirrels and birds are making you think about?”

“You know me so well, Jacob. Yes, I suppose that’s it. We think. We love. We procreate. We work. We fight in stupid wars. We pay taxes. We die. Is that dying part marking the final exit point of our existence? Do our souls transcend the darkness of dying and really go toward the bright light of eternity and God? Do we reincarnate and get another chance? Is there a God? Is all we see, feel, hear, sense, just a one-time thing?”

“Ah, the most deliriously captivating metaphysical enigma of every age! Do you believe the squirrels and the birds concern themselves with these questions? No, I’m sure that you don’t. They appear to be simply instinctive robotic like creatures that cyclically repeat their actions from one generational pool to another. Do they think of mortality matters, afterlife, and reincarnation? As humans, I don’t suspect that we think they do. Do the mad dictators or corrupted leaders of the world who lead us into wars think of mortality matters? Do people of runaway ambition, avarice, greed, hatred, have pious thoughts? At age twenty-five, did you perhaps think you would live forever, that life stretched out before you like a road paved in gold? Ah, the age-old conundrum, which came first, ‘the chicken or the egg’! Infinity is a thought that mortals cannot wrap their minds around.

“Your questions have answers, depending upon the humility of your soul, BR. Do you look at the stars, the planets, the moon, the sun, orderly galaxies and imagine that they achieved that order by a ‘big bang’? Do you watch a sunrise and sunset, the rain, the snow, the falling leaves, and imagine that there is simply a natural order to such things? When you hold the one you love and experience the supremacy of all ecstasy and joy, do you wish you could stop your world and live forever in that moment? Do you ever think about the magical nine-month period of human birth, of the intricate and delicate patterns that must be formed for life to begin? Do you simply believe that there is but the purpose to live and to die, that during the living, the world is a stage to perform your acts?”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting a migraine! William Wordsworth was right, ‘The World Is Too Much With Us.’ I want to believe, I will believe, that a supreme being made this spinning orb and that I have a chance to leave something of worth behind when I leave it. For ‘it is dark to die, and I fear that I still wish to be’. A good friend wrote that line as he and a war buddy lay in a fox hole during one of our wars. With all my doubts, insecurities, my loves and dreams, I must believe, have faith that Ecclesiastes 3.1 has meaning for us all, ‘Everything Has Its Time. For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die. I believe, too, that others have faith, and some do not. It is my way to respect the views of others while it is not always possible to do so.”

 “So, the squirrels and the birds brought all of this about?”

 “Well, yeah, pretty much, I guess. The tea was good, right, Jacob?”

 “Now you know I don’t drink tea… I only listen to you and repeat everything you think… By the way, why is it you’re calling me Jacob?”

 “Ah, you don’t like Jacob?”

 “You expect me to answer that?”

 “Are you reading my mind?”

 “You’re reading your mind!”

 “Okay, I’m calling you, Myopia!”

 “You’re losing it!”

 “Funny! I was just thinking that!”

 “Please, give us a NAP! You’re driving us crazy!”

 BR Chitwood – December 25, 2019 (‘Archived’)

 MERRY CHRISTMAS & HAPPY NEW YEAR, 2020!

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