How Cool is This?

Last night I opened my email to find a letter from the Hillary Clinton campaign:

  
Without hesitation I clicked on the red RSVP now button and received a follow up email.

  
I was so excited I barely slept last night. Because I wasn’t familiar with the venue I got up extra early. Thanks to my GPS I was at the site a good two hours before the event.

The reward for my hyper punctuality came when I scored a front row spot. 

  
The crowd of like-minded folks chatted congenially while waiting over an hour after taking our places.

   
   
I tried to take a panoramic photo of the crowd inside the center, but failed miserably. Thus you get some random crowd shots from outside.

Several local dignitaries spoke, and then William Jefferson Clinton was introduced to raucous applause.

   
    
 Not long into his speech, former president Clinton’s notes fell from the podium. He never missed a beat, just toed them out of his way.

After speaking in his mix of down home and politically savvy style, all the time reminding us why Hillary should be our choice in tomorrow’s primary election, Mr. Clinton left the stage to shake hands with as many people as possible.

Remember that first row spot I found? It paid off:

  
Oh I wish I were a better selfie taker!

Go vote tomorrow if you live in Florida or Illinois, or any other state holding its primary. 

Peace, people!

Marbles In

I picked up a
handful of marbles,
perfectly round,
smooth, cool, 
clinkety clunky in
my wrinkled grasp.

Brightly colored,
variegated blues,
yellows, reds, plus
an amber cat’s eye,
a shiny steelie,
and a swirly snaky.

There was nothing
particularly
notable about these
colorful orbs.
Other than they
exist simultaneously
in the worlds of my
present and my past
as only childhood
playthings can.

  
Peace, people!

The Diggers’ Vote

Twenty years spent digging ditches, climbing through

stacks of detritus, too tall to fathom, too many fathoms to ponder.

Some streaks of weakened light leaked past guarded columns of

life’s waste and want. “I still cannot see the end,” came the distant scream.

“Just keep digging,” called a calm response. “You’ll hit paydirt one day.”

The foreman urged patience and tenacity.
Those digging broke nails and fingers and backs.

“Come election day who do you reckon you’ll be voting for?” Digger 1 asked Digger 2.

Digger 2 did not pause in her labors. “I like that Trump guy.” she said.

“He’s gonna build a big wall to keep them illegals from stealing our jobs.”

“Yep. That’s how I see it,” spat Digger 1.

“Quit your jabbering,” smiled the foreman. “Keep digging.”

  

Don’t Forget to Spring Forward!

I almost forgot! Thank you Mitch!

mitchteemley's avatarMitch Teemley

Spring Forward

Photo: Richard Peters Photography

Daily Savings Time!

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Patches Says Rock Chalk Jayhawk

Our youngest cat has been totally into the Big 12 Championship game. We know she’s a Jayhawk fan even though she hasn’t actually said the words.

   
 
Peace, people!

Tree Heaven

 I guess I’m responsible for thousands of smiling trees. I wonder how they feel about e-readers? Relief? Survivor’s Guilt?  
Peace, people. 

Just Funny

Disclaimer: This is just a joke. Any similarities to my own sex life or lack thereof should not be construed. 

 

Slattern

Slattern

Waits in a darkened doorway, hand on a cocked hip. Long practiced words roll off her lips. 

“Want some company, handsome?” she huskily purrs. He shakes his head, another demurs. 

She drags on her cigarette, poufs out her hair. Straightens her posture, drapes a bruised leg on a chair.

A noisy crowd leaves the theatre two blocks down. Exuberant young people out on the town.

Arms linked, hands clasped, giggling innocents still. She seeps into shadows, ashamed, a nil.

Imagines the life that might have been hers. Friendships and outings, instead of this curse.

An accident of birth, one careless stork’s drop. There, she smirks, go I, but for the grace of God.