Perceptions, Delusions

Rain fell soft and silky.  How could she have lost touch with the man she almost married?

It hadn’t been Melvyn’s department store for forty years.  Fringed in yellow pollen, puddles became crime scene outlines.  Superstition prevailed.  They were to be avoided at all costs.

Deny perception or declare delusion?  She had no idea where this conversation was going.

Patchwork farms gave way to suburbia.  Too bad families, friends only got together at funerals.

Had he suffered in the last days?  Too late and inappropriate to ask.

Always affable.  Willing to share personal stories or anecdotes–before getting down to business.

It would be crass to call Harold a hero.  Hero was such an overused word.  Clients felt they were in good hands.  Harold was a businessman first–then a friend.

Harold’s health battles were kept secret.  No one, except a few close friends, knew till the very last day.  Harold’s death came as a complete shock.

The faithful milled about, their gaunt, long faces engaged in quiet conversations.

When it’s my time–I’d like to go that way.  He looked so nice and peaceful lying there.   




Does This Make Any Sense?

Perhaps some folks would like to relive their high school years.  Not me.  Introverted, anxiety-ridden–it’s better left in the past.

“Just order one,”  Came a shout from the kitchen.

“I know, they’re expensive as all heck,”  I answered.

“Would you like some popcorn?”

“Yes, Dear, that would be nice.”

Should past practices that are out of date be considered wastes of time?

What if someone were the best bloodletter in town?

“Last week I went to Cyrus because I was feeling a bit phlegmatic.  I didn’t feel a thing when he pricked my arm.”

It shouldn’t matter because no one knew any different back then.

People were accustomed to dealing with pain.

They were offered whiskey or a bullet to bite on–if they were lucky.

Some cultures still used horses and buggies.  It was part of their religious beliefs.  Did that make the practice a waste of time?

“Why did men always wear hats in the forties and fifties?”

“It was the style back then.  Haven’t you watched any old movies?”

“Your grandpa–my father wore a gray fedora hat.”

“If he were still here, his opinion would be, that people today dressed too casually.”

“He probably felt incomplete without his hat.”

For those of us with OCD tendencies, “whatever we do we’re never really through.”





Post-Cruise Reflections

A week ago, this was beach day at Labadee, Haiti.  Here, it’s still late winter.

Morning routine has changed somewhat, from taking the elevator from the seventh deck to the fifth deck for coffee, and then up to deck eleven to watch the sunrise.

What did I like most about the cruise?  Mornings-leisurely greeting the day.  The Broadway-style shows.  Obviously, great food and rich desserts.  Roasted tomatoes at breakfast with scrambled eggs were delicious.

If one ruled out similar offerings of watches, diamonds, clothing, trinkets, there were differences at each port of call.  I searched for Paul Allen’s yacht at Georgetown, Grand Cayman to no avail.  I would not have recognized it, even it had been there.

Our Good Hope plantation tour on Jamaica with emphasis on culture was the highlight of the trip.  Other site tours offered zip lines, ATV trails, horseback riding.  We were exposed to local flora, fauna, and herbal remedies.  Cures for migraine headaches, rashes, upset stomach among other things.

Little did I know, that behind the scenes tours of the cruise ship’s inner workings, were offered upon request.

On the last day, at the Captain and crew’s question and answer session, out came the “penguin” story from the First Engineer.

The First Engineer, previously worked for another cruise line specialized in Antarctic expeditions.  The waters from Argentina to Antarctica, near the straits of Magellan, were the most dangerous in the world.

During one such rough passage a call came in from a frantic female passenger.  The crew questioned the passenger to repeat the problem–“There’s a penguin in my bathroom.  I want it removed immediately.”

The engineer took the call.  According to the ship’s doctor, the woman had overdosed on anti-seasickness patches–which caused hallucinations.

After assurance the penguin, all wild creatures had been removed from her cabin, and with some “drying out time,” everything was fine the rest of the way.

Memories of the, night before, motel stay that proved cheaper wasn’t always better have faded away.  The ship boarding line up that took hours has been forgotten.

I’ll never forget that Jamaicans referred to heavy-set people as being “fluffy.”  I’m feeling quite fluffy this morning.  Getting back to the gym may help in that department.