Day: May 9, 2017

The News, Oh, Boy

Did you see the news today? Oh, boy. Nabisco announced an exciting new Oreo flavor. They’re putting Pop-rocks candy in their cookie and calling it the “Firework” Oreo. I think the only that could make that better is if the center was an ice cream filling with Pop-rocks candy, and they rolled it in funnel cake batter, deep-fried it, sprayed it with chocolate sauce and splashed confectionery sugar all over it.

Bet that’s coming to a county or state fair soon.

Not satisfied with resting on their flavors, Nabisco is challenging us, the public, to come up with the next new flavor of Oreo cookies. For that, they’ll pay five hundred thousand big ones, which is to say, American dollars. That’s a lot of cookies.

Naturally, I struggled to come up with an idea. The only thing that entered my feeble mind was a classic Neapolitan Oreo. The bottom would be a strawberry cookie. Vanilla cream would be in the middle, topped with the traditional chocolate Oreo. Sadly, I don’t think that’s special enough. Instead, I think they need something like red hot Oreos, all red and fiery with cinnamon flavors.

No, that’ not crazy enough. Well, someone will come up with something sufficiently crazy. It just won’t be me. Bummer.

I could use an extra half a rock.

0

Oh, The Times

If it’s the year of twenty-seventeen, then you know an airline is in trouble. I don’t accept the year unchallenged. Like Billy Pilgrim, sometimes I feel like I’ve become unstuck in time. It comes mostly from hearing male Republicans say things like, “Nobody dies because they don’t have access to healthcare.”

Well, not if you’re rich! Ha, ha. Oh, that Raul Labrador. He was kidding, of course. Ha, ha, what a joker. Thank the gods someone in the nation’s capitol has a sense of humor that matches Trump’s White House. You know those guys have a sense of humor when they decide they’re firing scientists from the EPA’s advisory board and replacing them with members of industry. That’s got to be a joke, right?

This year, depending on what Trump does — and his potential for disaster is infinite — might go down as a pivotal year of change for the U.S. airline industry. Each week finds another one in trouble or the news in recent months. First, there was United Airlines, politely trying to re-accommodate a passenger by taking him out of his seat and off the flight, to put him on another. Then American Airlines became the focus of social media ire when an employee bonked a woman on a flight with a stroller. American Airlines tried to fix it all by announcing that they were going to reduce leg room! That’s terrific news! Next they’ll be telling us that they’re going to start charging us to recline our seats or to use the restroom. After all, they’re making money and experiencing record profits, but, you know how it is with money and corporations: there’s never enough.

Delta Airlines, jealous over the the other airlines gaining so much attention, decided to boot a family off a flight from Hawaii.  They made up with them, afterwards, of course, because it was just another spat between an airline and those ungrateful people buying tickets.

Today, in the spirit of U.S. airline news, Spirit Airlines canceled nine flights. People were upset. The airline blamed the pilots. The pilots blamed the airline. We all know that Spirit Airlines really just wanted their time in the news. All the other U.S. airlines were in the news. Even Southwest Airlines made the news after reports that their CEO is resisting changes to the baggage policy and still letting people have two free bags. What a madman! Doesn’t he know he’s leaving money on the table? Gads, the scoundrel.

Of course, the wealthy have had enough of the commoners and their problems with those pesky airlines. They’re either buying their own aircraft or using the terminals constructed for their exclusive use.

It’s exhausting to contemplate. As Alvin Lee of Ten Years After said at Woodstock once, “I think next time, I’m going home by helicopter.”

Maybe he didn’t say it. I am getting old. Or maybe I’m just unstuck in time again, and he’s going to say it in the future.

5

Muted

“Mom, do you recognize me?”

Of course, she wanted to reply. It was a foolish question. She was her youngest daughter, so smart and beautiful, caring, passionate – and stubborn, independent and strong-willed. She looked exactly like her great aunt. Pragmatic and idealistic – “Bull-headed,” the child’s father had always called her — she’d been born, her final daughter of three, sixty years before, on a sweltering August day. She’d cried more in her first seventy-two hours than the other two sisters had cried in their first week, combined.

Yes, she remembered her and trusted her, and believed in her more than the others. She was always willing to give and help, always prodding her to speak up.

She wished she could speak up. She’d always wanted to speak up more. That was her greatest failing. She envied those, like her own mother, and her sisters, that spoke with firmness, conviction and clarity. She’d always wanted to speak like that, and it had forever been denied her, except when she’d been speaking with her late husband. She could tell Jack anything. He trusted her in a way no other ever had, and understood her better than anyone else. When he’d died, it was like her voice died with him. Ever since then, she’d lost more and more of her ability to express herself to others with every day. The more she loved those who spoke to her, the harder it was to talk to them.

That’s what couldn’t be explained to them. All the words failed. Even now, when her daughter asked her, “Mom, do you recognize me,” and gazed warmly at her face, her brown eyes wide, all the words she brought to mind failed to respond.

The only word willing to obey was, “Yes.”

To which her daughter looked sad and resigned. “I love you, Mom,” she said.

I love you, too, she answered, but her voice would not speak.

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Inspirational Quote # 632

This is one thing I do poorly; I don’t celebrate completing something sufficiently. I’m usually already pursuing another story, novel or idea at that point. I think I have some OCD about writing.

Today, You Will Write's avatarToday, You Will Write

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General Dream

“This is General Hamilton.”

Sure, I believed that. I was in the military again in this dream. My cell phone had rung. I’d answered. The other end had asked for Sergeant Seidel. I told them that was me. That’s when they identified themself.

Their voice was a pleasant tenor. Yeah, right, I thought, hearing that, and disconnected. I didn’t know a General Hamilton, and why would he be calling me? I was in the middle of some large, busy military complex. It was indoors and very modern. Everyone was in U.S. Air Force uniforms. I believe the location was in Florida.

I told someone else that a person had called and said they were General Hamilton. I didn’t know who that was. “It’s the commander,” they replied. “A five-star.”

A five-star? Seriously, a five-star calling me on my cell phone? Right.

The cell phone rang again. I answered. “This is General Hamilton.”

I answered with who I was and explained that we must have been disconnected. I remained dubious about who I was talking to.

“No problem,” he answered. “How do I get to the hospital?”

Was this a joke? I looked around. A large base directory, like in a mall, was mounted to a wall. “Where are you, General?”

“I’m in my office.”

“Where’s that?”

He told me. I traced it on the map. He seemed like he was two minutes away by car. The conversation continued, with me trying to understand why he was calling me, what his question meant, and what sort of help he was looking for.

“You’re the one responsible for coordinating activities, aren’t you?” he said.

Yes, that was one of my duties. As I was talking, I was walking and looking around, assessing where I was, trying to think through the issue and looking for anyone or anything that might be of help. His question completely baffled me. A five-star doesn’t have problems getting from one part of the base to another.

He had to hang up. He promised to call me back in a few minutes. “Thank you, sir,” I answered, and starting moving and thinking with more focused purpose. I’d made my way to the area he was trying to reach as I’d been talking to him. I’d realized he was going there to attend a ceremony taking place. I further knew who the organizers were, so I was heading there to talk to them. Most of the walls were glass. Although security was tight and I was often challenged, my security passes allowed me complete access.

Reaching the location of the ceremony, I entered and looked around. Although in a glass building, rolling, lush green grass dominated. Birds were singing, and it was sunny, with a warm breeze.

I saw the officer I sought. She was just concluding a speech. I hurried toward her. As I did, two heavily-armed security officers stepped up to her. They started talking. Thinking they were about to give her some problems, I hastened to them, because I knew that although she outranked me, I had a special position, and I could intercede.

I arrived at the end of their conversation. They were telling her, “We just wanted you to know that your story moved us, and we’re here to help you in any way that we can. We’re all here to help you.”

The officer was wiping off tears and sniffing. “Thank you.”

The security officers nodded and left. I gathered that her speech had been a moving one about loss, and they’d been moved. I just had that as an insight as I looked at her.

I started adding my condolences but was aware that time was short. She cut me off anyway, complaining about being emotional. I then began explaining my issue. I struggled to get the words out. As I did, I inadvertently called General Hamilton, General Mood.

I was correcting myself when she replied, “I know who you mean. That’s a good name for him. He’s really particular about how he travels. He has a phobia. That’s why he’s asking you for help. He wants to come here but he wants to walk.”

The explanation stunned me but as soon as I heard her, I knew what to do. It was just in time. The cell phone rang. I answered.

“This is General Hamilton,” they said from the other end.

I identified myself, and then began explaining what he needed to do. In the course of that, I realized that I called him General Mood. I immediately heard the mistake, apologized and corrected myself. He laughed. “That’s not a problem.”

Others came up to the officer I’d been talking to. They were concerned that General Hamilton hadn’t arrived. “I’m on the phone with him,” I replied, which impressed everyone. Then, as I resumed explaining how he was to reach our part, I looked up and saw him arriving.

The end.

***

I’ve typed the dream out to remember it so I forget as little as possible. In remembering it, some clues about what it’s about spoke to me, but overall, I need time to process it.

4

Catstable

A catstable is a feline who holds pawfice to enforce cat laws. Catstables face many difficulties enforcing cat laws, predominantly in that it’s not actually an pawfice, except in their mind. Enforcing cat laws is also problematic because they’re not written down, but haphazardly passed on between generations. Cat laws, and their meanings, often fluctuate between indoor/outdoor cats, feral cats, strictly indoor cats, etc. That encumbers catstable ability to properly execute their pawfice. Capping the difficulty scale, though, is that humans like to think their laws, customs and activities are above feline laws.

Cats disagree.

This is why, no matter what’s taking place, one or more catstables will come on the scene to observe and enforce the laws.

2

Today’s Theme Music

Honestly, I know this song through my wife. When we drove together, she’d sometiimes switch the station on MY CAR’S RADIO to HER station. (If I become portrayed as childishly indignant and immature, that’s a good summary of myself about this action back then.) This song was often played on the station she listened to. It’s a different style than I preferred, but she loves it. It’s on her exercise workout CD and her iPod shuffle. Put it on and she starts singing and dancing, which I enjoy.

Here, from nineteen ninety-six, is Quad City DJs with ‘C’mon N’ Ride It’. I prefer not to think about what train they’re riding.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gEdQ5KpY8Y

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